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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Roads of Destiny, by O. Henry
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Roads of Destiny
+       Roads of Destiny -- The Guardian of the Accolade -- The Discounters of Money -- The Enchanted Profile -- "Next to Reading Matter" -- Art and the Bronco -- Phoebe -- A Double-dyed Deceiver -- The Passing of Black Eagle -- A Retrieved Reformation -- Cherchez la Femme -- Friends in San Rosario -- The Fourth in Salvador -- The Emancipation of Billy -- The Enchanted Kiss -- A Departmental Case -- The Renaissance at Charleroi -- On Behalf of the Management -- Whistling Dick's Christmas Stocking -- The Halberdier of the Little Rheinschloss -- Two Renegades -- The Lonesome Road
+
+
+Author: O. Henry
+
+
+
+Release Date: February, 1997  [eBook #1646]
+[Most recently updated: February 5, 2006]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROADS OF DESTINY***
+
+
+E-text prepared by John Bickers and Dagny
+and revised by Joseph E. Loewenstein, M.D.
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustration.
+      See 1646-h.htm or 1646-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/4/1646/1646-h/1646-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/4/1646/1646-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+ROADS OF DESTINY
+
+by
+
+O. HENRY
+
+Author of "The Voice of the City," "The Trimmed Lamp,"
+"Strictly Business," "Whirligigs," "Sixes and Sevens," Etc.
+
+1919
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "The old medical outrage . . . had a nigger along."
+(Frontispiece)]
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+       I. Roads of Destiny
+      II. The Guardian of the Accolade
+     III. The Discounters of Money
+      IV. The Enchanted Profile
+       V. "Next to Reading Matter"
+      VI. Art and the Bronco
+     VII. Phoebe
+    VIII. A Double-dyed Deceiver
+      IX. The Passing of Black Eagle
+       X. A Retrieved Reformation
+      XI. Cherchez la Femme
+     XII. Friends in San Rosario
+    XIII. The Fourth in Salvador
+     XIV. The Emancipation of Billy
+      XV. The Enchanted Kiss
+     XVI. A Departmental Case
+    XVII. The Renaissance at Charleroi
+   XVIII. On Behalf of the Management
+     XIX. Whistling Dick's Christmas Stocking
+      XX. The Halberdier of the Little Rheinschloss
+     XXI. Two Renegades
+    XXII. The Lonesome Road
+
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+ROADS OF DESTINY
+
+
+   I go to seek on many roads
+      What is to be.
+   True heart and strong, with love to light--
+   Will they not bear me in the fight
+   To order, shun or wield or mould
+      My Destiny?
+
+         Unpublished Poems of David Mignot.
+
+
+The song was over. The words were David's; the air, one of the
+countryside. The company about the inn table applauded heartily,
+for the young poet paid for the wine. Only the notary, M. Papineau,
+shook his head a little at the lines, for he was a man of books, and
+he had not drunk with the rest.
+
+David went out into the village street, where the night air drove
+the wine vapour from his head. And then he remembered that he and
+Yvonne had quarrelled that day, and that he had resolved to leave
+his home that night to seek fame and honour in the great world
+outside.
+
+"When my poems are on every man's tongue," he told himself, in a
+fine exhilaration, "she will, perhaps, think of the hard words she
+spoke this day."
+
+Except the roisterers in the tavern, the village folk were abed.
+David crept softly into his room in the shed of his father's cottage
+and made a bundle of his small store of clothing. With this upon a
+staff, he set his face outward upon the road that ran from Vernoy.
+
+He passed his father's herd of sheep, huddled in their nightly
+pen--the sheep he herded daily, leaving them to scatter while he
+wrote verses on scraps of paper. He saw a light yet shining in
+Yvonne's window, and a weakness shook his purpose of a sudden.
+Perhaps that light meant that she rued, sleepless, her anger, and
+that morning might--But, no! His decision was made. Vernoy was no
+place for him. Not one soul there could share his thoughts. Out
+along that road lay his fate and his future.
+
+Three leagues across the dim, moonlit champaign ran the road,
+straight as a ploughman's furrow. It was believed in the village
+that the road ran to Paris, at least; and this name the poet
+whispered often to himself as he walked. Never so far from Vernoy
+had David travelled before.
+
+
+
+THE LEFT BRANCH
+
+   _Three leagues, then, the road ran, and turned into a puzzle.
+   It joined with another and a larger road at right angles. David
+   stood, uncertain, for a while, and then took the road to the
+   left._
+
+Upon this more important highway were, imprinted in the dust, wheel
+tracks left by the recent passage of some vehicle. Some half an
+hour later these traces were verified by the sight of a ponderous
+carriage mired in a little brook at the bottom of a steep hill.
+The driver and postilions were shouting and tugging at the horses'
+bridles. On the road at one side stood a huge, black-clothed man and
+a slender lady wrapped in a long, light cloak.
+
+David saw the lack of skill in the efforts of the servants. He
+quietly assumed control of the work. He directed the outriders to
+cease their clamour at the horses and to exercise their strength
+upon the wheels. The driver alone urged the animals with his
+familiar voice; David himself heaved a powerful shoulder at the
+rear of the carriage, and with one harmonious tug the great vehicle
+rolled up on solid ground. The outriders climbed to their places.
+
+David stood for a moment upon one foot. The huge gentleman waved a
+hand. "You will enter the carriage," he said, in a voice large, like
+himself, but smoothed by art and habit. Obedience belonged in the
+path of such a voice. Brief as was the young poet's hesitation, it
+was cut shorter still by a renewal of the command. David's foot went
+to the step. In the darkness he perceived dimly the form of the lady
+upon the rear seat. He was about to seat himself opposite, when the
+voice again swayed him to its will. "You will sit at the lady's
+side."
+
+The gentleman swung his great weight to the forward seat. The
+carriage proceeded up the hill. The lady was shrunk, silent, into
+her corner. David could not estimate whether she was old or young,
+but a delicate, mild perfume from her clothes stirred his poet's
+fancy to the belief that there was loveliness beneath the mystery.
+Here was an adventure such as he had often imagined. But as yet he
+held no key to it, for no word was spoken while he sat with his
+impenetrable companions.
+
+In an hour's time David perceived through the window that the
+vehicle traversed the street of some town. Then it stopped in front
+of a closed and darkened house, and a postilion alighted to hammer
+impatiently upon the door. A latticed window above flew wide and a
+nightcapped head popped out.
+
+"Who are ye that disturb honest folk at this time of night? My house
+is closed. 'Tis too late for profitable travellers to be abroad.
+Cease knocking at my door, and be off."
+
+"Open!" spluttered the postilion, loudly; "open for Monsiegneur the
+Marquis de Beaupertuys."
+
+"Ah!" cried the voice above. "Ten thousand pardons, my lord. I did
+not know--the hour is so late--at once shall the door be opened, and
+the house placed at my lord's disposal."
+
+Inside was heard the clink of chain and bar, and the door was flung
+open. Shivering with chill and apprehension, the landlord of the
+Silver Flagon stood, half clad, candle in hand, upon the threshold.
+
+David followed the Marquis out of the carriage. "Assist the lady,"
+he was ordered. The poet obeyed. He felt her small hand tremble as
+he guided her descent. "Into the house," was the next command.
+
+The room was the long dining-hall of the tavern. A great oak table
+ran down its length. The huge gentleman seated himself in a chair at
+the nearer end. The lady sank into another against the wall, with an
+air of great weariness. David stood, considering how best he might
+now take his leave and continue upon his way.
+
+"My lord," said the landlord, bowing to the floor, "h-had I
+ex-expected this honour, entertainment would have been ready.
+T-t-there is wine and cold fowl and m-m-maybe--"
+
+"Candles," said the marquis, spreading the fingers of one plump
+white hand in a gesture he had.
+
+"Y-yes, my lord." He fetched half a dozen candles, lighted them, and
+set them upon the table.
+
+"If monsieur would, perhaps, deign to taste a certain
+Burgundy--there is a cask--"
+
+"Candles," said monsieur, spreading his fingers.
+
+"Assuredly--quickly--I fly, my lord."
+
+A dozen more lighted candles shone in the hall. The great bulk of
+the marquis overflowed his chair. He was dressed in fine black from
+head to foot save for the snowy ruffles at his wrist and throat.
+Even the hilt and scabbard of his sword were black. His expression
+was one of sneering pride. The ends of an upturned moustache reached
+nearly to his mocking eyes.
+
+The lady sat motionless, and now David perceived that she was young,
+and possessed of pathetic and appealing beauty. He was startled from
+the contemplation of her forlorn loveliness by the booming voice of
+the marquis.
+
+"What is your name and pursuit?"
+
+"David Mignot. I am a poet."
+
+The moustache of the marquis curled nearer to his eyes.
+
+"How do you live?"
+
+"I am also a shepherd; I guarded my father's flock," David answered,
+with his head high, but a flush upon his cheek.
+
+"Then listen, master shepherd and poet, to the fortune you have
+blundered upon to-night. This lady is my niece, Mademoiselle Lucie
+de Varennes. She is of noble descent and is possessed of ten
+thousand francs a year in her own right. As to her charms, you
+have but to observe for yourself. If the inventory pleases your
+shepherd's heart, she becomes your wife at a word. Do not interrupt
+me. To-night I conveyed her to the _chateau_ of the Comte de
+Villemaur, to whom her hand had been promised. Guests were present;
+the priest was waiting; her marriage to one eligible in rank and
+fortune was ready to be accomplished. At the alter this demoiselle,
+so meek and dutiful, turned upon me like a leopardess, charged
+me with cruelty and crimes, and broke, before the gaping priest,
+the troth I had plighted for her. I swore there and then, by ten
+thousand devils, that she should marry the first man we met after
+leaving the _chateau_, be he prince, charcoal-burner, or thief. You,
+shepherd, are the first. Mademoiselle must be wed this night. If
+not you, then another. You have ten minutes in which to make your
+decision. Do not vex me with words or questions. Ten minutes,
+shepherd; and they are speeding."
+
+The marquis drummed loudly with his white fingers upon the table.
+He sank into a veiled attitude of waiting. It was as if some great
+house had shut its doors and windows against approach. David would
+have spoken, but the huge man's bearing stopped his tongue. Instead,
+he stood by the lady's chair and bowed.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he said, and he marvelled to find his words flowing
+easily before so much elegance and beauty. "You have heard me say
+I was a shepherd. I have also had the fancy, at times, that I
+am a poet. If it be the test of a poet to adore and cherish the
+beautiful, that fancy is now strengthened. Can I serve you in any
+way, mademoiselle?"
+
+The young woman looked up at him with eyes dry and mournful. His
+frank, glowing face, made serious by the gravity of the adventure,
+his strong, straight figure and the liquid sympathy in his blue
+eyes, perhaps, also, her imminent need of long-denied help and
+kindness, thawed her to sudden tears.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, in low tones, "you look to be true and kind.
+He is my uncle, the brother of my father, and my only relative. He
+loved my mother, and he hates me because I am like her. He has made
+my life one long terror. I am afraid of his very looks, and never
+before dared to disobey him. But to-night he would have married me
+to a man three times my age. You will forgive me for bringing this
+vexation upon you, monsieur. You will, of course, decline this
+mad act he tries to force upon you. But let me thank you for your
+generous words, at least. I have had none spoken to me in so long."
+
+There was now something more than generosity in the poet's eyes.
+Poet he must have been, for Yvonne was forgotten; this fine, new
+loveliness held him with its freshness and grace. The subtle perfume
+from her filled him with strange emotions. His tender look fell
+warmly upon her. She leaned to it, thirstily.
+
+"Ten minutes," said David, "is given me in which to do what I would
+devote years to achieve. I will not say I pity you, mademoiselle; it
+would not be true--I love you. I cannot ask love from you yet, but
+let me rescue you from this cruel man, and, in time, love may come.
+I think I have a future; I will not always be a shepherd. For the
+present I will cherish you with all my heart and make your life less
+sad. Will you trust your fate to me, mademoiselle?"
+
+"Ah, you would sacrifice yourself from pity!"
+
+"From love. The time is almost up, mademoiselle."
+
+"You will regret it, and despise me."
+
+"I will live only to make you happy, and myself worthy of you."
+
+Her fine small hand crept into his from beneath her cloak.
+
+"I will trust you," she breathed, "with my life. And--and love--may
+not be so far off as you think. Tell him. Once away from the power
+of his eyes I may forget."
+
+David went and stood before the marquis. The black figure stirred,
+and the mocking eyes glanced at the great hall clock.
+
+"Two minutes to spare. A shepherd requires eight minutes to decide
+whether he will accept a bride of beauty and income! Speak up,
+shepherd, do you consent to become mademoiselle's husband?"
+
+"Mademoiselle," said David, standing proudly, "has done me the
+honour to yield to my request that she become my wife."
+
+"Well said!" said the marquis. "You have yet the making of a
+courtier in you, master shepherd. Mademoiselle could have drawn a
+worse prize, after all. And now to be done with the affair as quick
+as the Church and the devil will allow!"
+
+He struck the table soundly with his sword hilt. The landlord came,
+knee-shaking, bringing more candles in the hope of anticipating the
+great lord's whims. "Fetch a priest," said the marquis, "a priest;
+do you understand? In ten minutes have a priest here, or--"
+
+The landlord dropped his candles and flew.
+
+The priest came, heavy-eyed and ruffled. He made David Mignot and
+Lucie de Verennes man and wife, pocketed a gold piece that the
+marquis tossed him, and shuffled out again into the night.
+
+"Wine," ordered the marquis, spreading his ominous fingers at the
+host.
+
+"Fill glasses," he said, when it was brought. He stood up at the
+head of the table in the candlelight, a black mountain of venom and
+conceit, with something like the memory of an old love turned to
+poison in his eyes, as it fell upon his niece.
+
+"Monsieur Mignot," he said, raising his wineglass, "drink after
+I say this to you: You have taken to be your wife one who will
+make your life a foul and wretched thing. The blood in her is an
+inheritance running black lies and red ruin. She will bring you
+shame and anxiety. The devil that descended to her is there in her
+eyes and skin and mouth that stoop even to beguile a peasant. There
+is your promise, monsieur poet, for a happy life. Drink your wine.
+At last, mademoiselle, I am rid of you."
+
+The marquis drank. A little grievous cry, as if from a sudden wound,
+came from the girl's lips. David, with his glass in his hand,
+stepped forward three paces and faced the marquis. There was little
+of a shepherd in his bearing.
+
+"Just now," he said, calmly, "you did me the honor to call me
+'monsieur.' May I hope, therefore that my marriage to mademoiselle
+has placed me somewhat nearer to you in--let us say, reflected
+rank--has given me the right to stand more as an equal to
+monseigneur in a certain little piece of business I have in my
+mind?"
+
+"You may hope, shepherd," sneered the marquis.
+
+"Then," said David, dashing his glass of wine into the contemptuous
+eyes that mocked him, "perhaps you will condescend to fight me."
+
+The fury of the great lord outbroke in one sudden curse like a blast
+from a horn. He tore his sword from its black sheath; he called to
+the hovering landlord: "A sword there, for this lout!" He turned to
+the lady, with a laugh that chilled her heart, and said: "You put
+much labour upon me, madame. It seems I must find you a husband and
+make you a widow in the same night."
+
+"I know not sword-play," said David. He flushed to make the
+confession before his lady.
+
+"'I know not sword-play,'" mimicked the marquis. "Shall we fight
+like peasants with oaken cudgels? _Hola!_ Francois, my pistols!"
+
+A postilion brought two shining great pistols ornamented with carven
+silver, from the carriage holsters. The marquis tossed one upon the
+table near David's hand. "To the other end of the table," he cried;
+"even a shepherd may pull a trigger. Few of them attain the honour
+to die by the weapon of a De Beaupertuys."
+
+The shepherd and the marquis faced each other from the ends of the
+long table. The landlord, in an ague of terror, clutched the air
+and stammered: "M-M-Monseigneur, for the love of Christ! not in my
+house!--do not spill blood--it will ruin my custom--" The look of
+the marquis, threatening him, paralyzed his tongue.
+
+"Coward," cried the lord of Beaupertuys, "cease chattering your
+teeth long enough to give the word for us, if you can."
+
+Mine host's knees smote the floor. He was without a vocabulary. Even
+sounds were beyond him. Still, by gestures he seemed to beseech
+peace in the name of his house and custom.
+
+"I will give the word," said the lady, in a clear voice. She went up
+to David and kissed him sweetly. Her eyes were sparkling bright, and
+colour had come to her cheek. She stood against the wall, and the
+two men levelled their pistols for her count.
+
+"_Un--deux--trois!_"
+
+The two reports came so nearly together that the candles flickered
+but once. The marquis stood, smiling, the fingers of his left hand
+resting, outspread, upon the end of the table. David remained erect,
+and turned his head very slowly, searching for his wife with his
+eyes. Then, as a garment falls from where it is hung, he sank,
+crumpled, upon the floor.
+
+With a little cry of terror and despair, the widowed maid ran and
+stooped above him. She found his wound, and then looked up with her
+old look of pale melancholy. "Through his heart," she whispered.
+"Oh, his heart!"
+
+"Come," boomed the great voice of the marquis, "out with you to the
+carriage! Daybreak shall not find you on my hands. Wed you shall be
+again, and to a living husband, this night. The next we come upon,
+my lady, highwayman or peasant. If the road yields no other, then
+the churl that opens my gates. Out with you into the carriage!"
+
+The marquis, implacable and huge, the lady wrapped again in the
+mystery of her cloak, the postilion bearing the weapons--all moved
+out to the waiting carriage. The sound of its ponderous wheels
+rolling away echoed through the slumbering village. In the hall of
+the Silver Flagon the distracted landlord wrung his hands above the
+slain poet's body, while the flames of the four and twenty candles
+danced and flickered on the table.
+
+
+
+THE RIGHT BRANCH
+
+   _Three leagues, then, the road ran, and turned into a puzzle.
+   It joined with another and a larger road at right angles. David
+   stood, uncertain, for a while, and then took the road to the
+   right._
+
+Whither it led he knew not, but he was resolved to leave Vernoy far
+behind that night. He travelled a league and then passed a large
+_chateau_ which showed testimony of recent entertainment. Lights
+shone from every window; from the great stone gateway ran a tracery
+of wheel tracks drawn in the dust by the vehicles of the guests.
+
+Three leagues farther and David was weary. He rested and slept for a
+while on a bed of pine boughs at the roadside. Then up and on again
+along the unknown way.
+
+Thus for five days he travelled the great road, sleeping upon
+Nature's balsamic beds or in peasants' ricks, eating of their black,
+hospitable bread, drinking from streams or the willing cup of the
+goatherd.
+
+At length he crossed a great bridge and set his foot within the
+smiling city that has crushed or crowned more poets than all the
+rest of the world. His breath came quickly as Paris sang to him in a
+little undertone her vital chant of greeting--the hum of voice and
+foot and wheel.
+
+High up under the eaves of an old house in the Rue Conti, David paid
+for lodging, and set himself, in a wooden chair, to his poems. The
+street, once sheltering citizens of import and consequence, was now
+given over to those who ever follow in the wake of decline.
+
+The houses were tall and still possessed of a ruined dignity, but
+many of them were empty save for dust and the spider. By night there
+was the clash of steel and the cries of brawlers straying restlessly
+from inn to inn. Where once gentility abode was now but a rancid and
+rude incontinence. But here David found housing commensurate to his
+scant purse. Daylight and candlelight found him at pen and paper.
+
+One afternoon he was returning from a foraging trip to the lower
+world, with bread and curds and a bottle of thin wine. Halfway up
+his dark stairway he met--or rather came upon, for she rested on the
+stair--a young woman of a beauty that should balk even the justice
+of a poet's imagination. A loose, dark cloak, flung open, showed a
+rich gown beneath. Her eyes changed swiftly with every little shade
+of thought. Within one moment they would be round and artless like
+a child's, and long and cozening like a gypsy's. One hand raised
+her gown, undraping a little shoe, high-heeled, with its ribbons
+dangling, untied. So heavenly she was, so unfitted to stoop, so
+qualified to charm and command! Perhaps she had seen David coming,
+and had waited for his help there.
+
+Ah, would monsieur pardon that she occupied the stairway, but the
+shoe!--the naughty shoe! Alas! it would not remain tied. Ah! if
+monsieur _would_ be so gracious!
+
+The poet's fingers trembled as he tied the contrary ribbons. Then he
+would have fled from the danger of her presence, but the eyes grew
+long and cozening, like a gypsy's, and held him. He leaned against
+the balustrade, clutching his bottle of sour wine.
+
+"You have been so good," she said, smiling. "Does monsieur, perhaps,
+live in the house?"
+
+"Yes, madame. I--I think so, madame."
+
+"Perhaps in the third story, then?"
+
+"No, madame; higher up."
+
+The lady fluttered her fingers with the least possible gesture of
+impatience.
+
+"Pardon. Certainly I am not discreet in asking. Monsieur will
+forgive me? It is surely not becoming that I should inquire where he
+lodges."
+
+"Madame, do not say so. I live in the--"
+
+"No, no, no; do not tell me. Now I see that I erred. But I cannot
+lose the interest I feel in this house and all that is in it. Once
+it was my home. Often I come here but to dream of those happy days
+again. Will you let that be my excuse?"
+
+"Let me tell you, then, for you need no excuse," stammered the poet.
+"I live in the top floor--the small room where the stairs turn."
+
+"In the front room?" asked the lady, turning her head sidewise.
+
+"The rear, madame."
+
+The lady sighed, as if with relief.
+
+"I will detain you no longer then, monsieur," she said, employing
+the round and artless eye. "Take good care of my house. Alas! only
+the memories of it are mine now. Adieu, and accept my thanks for
+your courtesy."
+
+She was gone, leaving but a smile and a trace of sweet perfume.
+David climbed the stairs as one in slumber. But he awoke from it,
+and the smile and the perfume lingered with him and never afterward
+did either seem quite to leave him. This lady of whom he knew
+nothing drove him to lyrics of eyes, chansons of swiftly conceived
+love, odes to curling hair, and sonnets to slippers on slender feet.
+
+Poet he must have been, for Yvonne was forgotten; this fine, new
+loveliness held him with its freshness and grace. The subtle perfume
+about her filled him with strange emotions.
+
+
+
+On a certain night three persons were gathered about a table in a
+room on the third floor of the same house. Three chairs and the
+table and a lighted candle upon it was all the furniture. One of the
+persons was a huge man, dressed in black. His expression was one of
+sneering pride. The ends of his upturned moustache reached nearly to
+his mocking eyes. Another was a lady, young and beautiful, with eyes
+that could be round and artless, as a child's, or long and cozening,
+like a gypsy's, but were now keen and ambitious, like any other
+conspirator's. The third was a man of action, a combatant, a bold
+and impatient executive, breathing fire and steel. He was addressed
+by the others as Captain Desrolles.
+
+This man struck the table with his fist, and said, with controlled
+violence:
+
+"To-night. To-night as he goes to midnight mass. I am tired of the
+plotting that gets nowhere. I am sick of signals and ciphers and
+secret meetings and such _baragouin_. Let us be honest traitors. If
+France is to be rid of him, let us kill in the open, and not hunt
+with snares and traps. To-night, I say. I back my words. My hand
+will do the deed. To-night, as he goes to mass."
+
+The lady turned upon him a cordial look. Woman, however wedded to
+plots, must ever thus bow to rash courage. The big man stroked his
+upturned moustache.
+
+"Dear captain," he said, in a great voice, softened by habit, "this
+time I agree with you. Nothing is to be gained by waiting. Enough of
+the palace guards belong to us to make the endeavour a safe one."
+
+"To-night," repeated Captain Desrolles, again striking the table.
+"You have heard me, marquis; my hand will do the deed."
+
+"But now," said the huge man, softly, "comes a question. Word must
+be sent to our partisans in the palace, and a signal agreed upon.
+Our stanchest men must accompany the royal carriage. At this hour
+what messenger can penetrate so far as the south doorway? Ribouet is
+stationed there; once a message is placed in his hands, all will go
+well."
+
+"I will send the message," said the lady.
+
+"You, countess?" said the marquis, raising his eyebrows. "Your
+devotion is great, we know, but--"
+
+"Listen!" exclaimed the lady, rising and resting her hands upon the
+table; "in a garret of this house lives a youth from the provinces
+as guileless and tender as the lambs he tended there. I have met him
+twice or thrice upon the stairs. I questioned him, fearing that he
+might dwell too near the room in which we are accustomed to meet. He
+is mine, if I will. He writes poems in his garret, and I think he
+dreams of me. He will do what I say. He shall take the message to
+the palace."
+
+The marquis rose from his chair and bowed. "You did not permit me to
+finish my sentence, countess," he said. "I would have said: 'Your
+devotion is great, but your wit and charm are infinitely greater.'"
+
+While the conspirators were thus engaged, David was polishing some
+lines addressed to his _amorette d'escalier_. He heard a timorous
+knock at his door, and opened it, with a great throb, to behold her
+there, panting as one in straits, with eyes wide open and artless,
+like a child's.
+
+"Monsieur," she breathed, "I come to you in distress. I believe you
+to be good and true, and I know of no other help. How I flew through
+the streets among the swaggering men! Monsieur, my mother is dying.
+My uncle is a captain of guards in the palace of the king. Some one
+must fly to bring him. May I hope--"
+
+"Mademoiselle," interrupted David, his eyes shining with the desire
+to do her service, "your hopes shall be my wings. Tell me how I may
+reach him."
+
+The lady thrust a sealed paper into his hand.
+
+"Go to the south gate--the south gate, mind--and say to the guards
+there, 'The falcon has left his nest.' They will pass you, and you
+will go to the south entrance to the palace. Repeat the words, and
+give this letter to the man who will reply 'Let him strike when he
+will.' This is the password, monsieur, entrusted to me by my uncle,
+for now when the country is disturbed and men plot against the
+king's life, no one without it can gain entrance to the palace
+grounds after nightfall. If you will, monsieur, take him this letter
+so that my mother may see him before she closes her eyes."
+
+"Give it me," said David, eagerly. "But shall I let you return home
+through the streets alone so late? I--"
+
+"No, no--fly. Each moment is like a precious jewel. Some time," said
+the lady, with eyes long and cozening, like a gypsy's, "I will try
+to thank you for your goodness."
+
+The poet thrust the letter into his breast, and bounded down the
+stairway. The lady, when he was gone, returned to the room below.
+
+The eloquent eyebrows of the marquis interrogated her.
+
+"He is gone," she said, "as fleet and stupid as one of his own
+sheep, to deliver it."
+
+The table shook again from the batter of Captain Desrolles's fist.
+
+"Sacred name!" he cried; "I have left my pistols behind! I can trust
+no others."
+
+"Take this," said the marquis, drawing from beneath his cloak a
+shining, great weapon, ornamented with carven silver. "There are
+none truer. But guard it closely, for it bears my arms and crest,
+and already I am suspected. Me, I must put many leagues between
+myself and Paris this night. To-morrow must find me in my _chateau_.
+After you, dear countess."
+
+The marquis puffed out the candle. The lady, well cloaked, and the
+two gentlemen softly descended the stairway and flowed into the
+crowd that roamed along the narrow pavements of the Rue Conti.
+
+David sped. At the south gate of the king's residence a halberd was
+laid to his breast, but he turned its point with the words; "The
+falcon has left his nest."
+
+"Pass, brother," said the guard, "and go quickly."
+
+On the south steps of the palace they moved to seize him, but again
+the _mot de passe_ charmed the watchers. One among them stepped
+forward and began: "Let him strike--" but a flurry among the guards
+told of a surprise. A man of keen look and soldierly stride suddenly
+pressed through them and seized the letter which David held in his
+hand. "Come with me," he said, and led him inside the great hall.
+Then he tore open the letter and read it. He beckoned to a man
+uniformed as an officer of musketeers, who was passing. "Captain
+Tetreau, you will have the guards at the south entrance and the
+south gate arrested and confined. Place men known to be loyal in
+their places." To David he said: "Come with me."
+
+He conducted him through a corridor and an anteroom into a spacious
+chamber, where a melancholy man, sombrely dressed, sat brooding in a
+great, leather-covered chair. To that man he said:
+
+"Sire, I have told you that the palace is as full of traitors and
+spies as a sewer is of rats. You have thought, sire, that it was my
+fancy. This man penetrated to your very door by their connivance. He
+bore a letter which I have intercepted. I have brought him here that
+your majesty may no longer think my zeal excessive."
+
+"I will question him," said the king, stirring in his chair. He
+looked at David with heavy eyes dulled by an opaque film. The poet
+bent his knee.
+
+"From where do you come?" asked the king.
+
+"From the village of Vernoy, in the province of Eure-et-Loir, sire."
+
+"What do you follow in Paris?"
+
+"I--I would be a poet, sire."
+
+"What did you in Vernoy?"
+
+"I minded my father's flock of sheep."
+
+The king stirred again, and the film lifted from his eyes.
+
+"Ah! in the fields!"
+
+"Yes, sire."
+
+"You lived in the fields; you went out in the cool of the morning
+and lay among the hedges in the grass. The flock distributed itself
+upon the hillside; you drank of the living stream; you ate your
+sweet, brown bread in the shade, and you listened, doubtless, to
+blackbirds piping in the grove. Is not that so, shepherd?"
+
+"It is, sire," answered David, with a sigh; "and to the bees at the
+flowers, and, maybe, to the grape gatherers singing on the hill."
+
+"Yes, yes," said the king, impatiently; "maybe to them; but surely
+to the blackbirds. They whistled often, in the grove, did they not?"
+
+"Nowhere, sire, so sweetly as in Eure-et-Loir. I have endeavored to
+express their song in some verses that I have written."
+
+"Can you repeat those verses?" asked the king, eagerly. "A long time
+ago I listened to the blackbirds. It would be something better than
+a kingdom if one could rightly construe their song. And at night you
+drove the sheep to the fold and then sat, in peace and tranquillity,
+to your pleasant bread. Can you repeat those verses, shepherd?"
+
+"They run this way, sire," said David, with respectful ardour:
+
+
+   "'Lazy shepherd, see your lambkins
+        Skip, ecstatic, on the mead;
+     See the firs dance in the breezes,
+        Hear Pan blowing at his reed.
+
+    "Hear us calling from the tree-tops,
+        See us swoop upon your flock;
+     Yield us wool to make our nests warm
+        In the branches of the--'"
+
+
+"If it please your majesty," interrupted a harsh voice, "I will ask
+a question or two of this rhymester. There is little time to spare.
+I crave pardon, sire, if my anxiety for your safety offends."
+
+"The loyalty," said the king, "of the Duke d'Aumale is too well
+proven to give offence." He sank into his chair, and the film came
+again over his eyes.
+
+"First," said the duke, "I will read you the letter he brought:
+
+
+   "'To-night is the anniversary of the dauphin's death. If he
+   goes, as is his custom, to midnight mass to pray for the soul
+   of his son, the falcon will strike, at the corner of the Rue
+   Esplanade. If this be his intention, set a red light in the
+   upper room at the southwest corner of the palace, that the
+   falcon may take heed.'
+
+
+"Peasant," said the duke, sternly, "you have heard these words. Who
+gave you this message to bring?"
+
+"My lord duke," said David, sincerely, "I will tell you. A lady gave
+it me. She said her mother was ill, and that this writing would
+fetch her uncle to her bedside. I do not know the meaning of the
+letter, but I will swear that she is beautiful and good."
+
+"Describe the woman," commanded the duke, "and how you came to be
+her dupe."
+
+"Describe her!" said David with a tender smile. "You would command
+words to perform miracles. Well, she is made of sunshine and deep
+shade. She is slender, like the alders, and moves with their grace.
+Her eyes change while you gaze into them; now round, and then half
+shut as the sun peeps between two clouds. When she comes, heaven
+is all about her; when she leaves, there is chaos and a scent of
+hawthorn blossoms. She came to see me in the Rue Conti, number
+twenty-nine."
+
+"It is the house," said the duke, turning to the king, "that we have
+been watching. Thanks to the poet's tongue, we have a picture of the
+infamous Countess Quebedaux."
+
+"Sire and my lord duke," said David, earnestly, "I hope my poor
+words have done no injustice. I have looked into that lady's eyes.
+I will stake my life that she is an angel, letter or no letter."
+
+The duke looked at him steadily. "I will put you to the proof," he
+said, slowly. "Dressed as the king, you shall, yourself, attend mass
+in his carriage at midnight. Do you accept the test?"
+
+David smiled. "I have looked into her eyes," he said. "I had my
+proof there. Take yours how you will."
+
+Half an hour before twelve the Duke d'Aumale, with his own hands,
+set a red lamp in a southwest window of the palace. At ten minutes
+to the hour, David, leaning on his arm, dressed as the king, from
+top to toe, with his head bowed in his cloak, walked slowly from
+the royal apartments to the waiting carriage. The duke assisted him
+inside and closed the door. The carriage whirled away along its
+route to the cathedral.
+
+On the _qui vive_ in a house at the corner of the Rue Esplanade was
+Captain Tetreau with twenty men, ready to pounce upon the
+conspirators when they should appear.
+
+But it seemed that, for some reason, the plotters had slightly
+altered their plans. When the royal carriage had reached the Rue
+Christopher, one square nearer than the Rue Esplanade, forth from
+it burst Captain Desrolles, with his band of would-be regicides,
+and assailed the equipage. The guards upon the carriage, though
+surprised at the premature attack, descended and fought valiantly.
+The noise of conflict attracted the force of Captain Tetreau,
+and they came pelting down the street to the rescue. But, in the
+meantime, the desperate Desrolles had torn open the door of the
+king's carriage, thrust his weapon against the body of the dark
+figure inside, and fired.
+
+Now, with loyal reinforcements at hand, the street rang with cries
+and the rasp of steel, but the frightened horses had dashed away.
+Upon the cushions lay the dead body of the poor mock king and poet,
+slain by a ball from the pistol of Monseigneur, the Marquis de
+Beaupertuys.
+
+
+
+THE MAIN ROAD
+
+   _Three leagues, then, the road ran, and turned into a puzzle.
+   It joined with another and a larger road at right angles. David
+   stood, uncertain, for a while, and then sat himself to rest upon
+   its side._
+
+Whither these roads led he knew not. Either way there seemed to lie
+a great world full of chance and peril. And then, sitting there, his
+eye fell upon a bright star, one that he and Yvonne had named for
+theirs. That set him thinking of Yvonne, and he wondered if he had
+not been too hasty. Why should he leave her and his home because a
+few hot words had come between them? Was love so brittle a thing
+that jealousy, the very proof of it, could break it? Mornings always
+brought a cure for the little heartaches of evening. There was yet
+time for him to return home without any one in the sweetly sleeping
+village of Vernoy being the wiser. His heart was Yvonne's; there
+where he had lived always he could write his poems and find his
+happiness.
+
+David rose, and shook off his unrest and the wild mood that had
+tempted him. He set his face steadfastly back along the road he had
+come. By the time he had retravelled the road to Vernoy, his desire
+to rove was gone. He passed the sheepfold, and the sheep scurried,
+with a drumming flutter, at his late footsteps, warming his heart by
+the homely sound. He crept without noise into his little room and
+lay there, thankful that his feet had escaped the distress of new
+roads that night.
+
+How well he knew woman's heart! The next evening Yvonne was at the
+well in the road where the young congregated in order that the
+_cure_ might have business. The corner of her eye was engaged in a
+search for David, albeit her set mouth seemed unrelenting. He saw
+the look; braved the mouth, drew from it a recantation and, later,
+a kiss as they walked homeward together.
+
+Three months afterwards they were married. David's father was shrewd
+and prosperous. He gave them a wedding that was heard of three
+leagues away. Both the young people were favourites in the village.
+There was a procession in the streets, a dance on the green; they
+had the marionettes and a tumbler out from Dreux to delight the
+guests.
+
+Then a year, and David's father died. The sheep and the cottage
+descended to him. He already had the seemliest wife in the village.
+Yvonne's milk pails and her brass kettles were bright--_ouf!_ they
+blinded you in the sun when you passed that way. But you must keep
+your eyes upon her yard, for her flower beds were so neat and gay
+they restored to you your sight. And you might hear her sing, aye,
+as far as the double chestnut tree above Pere Gruneau's blacksmith
+forge.
+
+But a day came when David drew out paper from a long-shut drawer,
+and began to bite the end of a pencil. Spring had come again and
+touched his heart. Poet he must have been, for now Yvonne was
+well-nigh forgotten. This fine new loveliness of earth held him
+with its witchery and grace. The perfume from her woods and meadows
+stirred him strangely. Daily had he gone forth with his flock, and
+brought it safe at night. But now he stretched himself under the
+hedge and pieced words together on his bits of paper. The sheep
+strayed, and the wolves, perceiving that difficult poems make easy
+mutton, ventured from the woods and stole his lambs.
+
+David's stock of poems grew larger and his flock smaller. Yvonne's
+nose and temper waxed sharp and her talk blunt. Her pans and kettles
+grew dull, but her eyes had caught their flash. She pointed out to
+the poet that his neglect was reducing the flock and bringing woe
+upon the household. David hired a boy to guard the sheep, locked
+himself in the little room at the top of the cottage, and wrote more
+poems. The boy, being a poet by nature, but not furnished with an
+outlet in the way of writing, spent his time in slumber. The wolves
+lost no time in discovering that poetry and sleep are practically
+the same; so the flock steadily grew smaller. Yvonne's ill temper
+increased at an equal rate. Sometimes she would stand in the yard
+and rail at David through his high window. Then you could hear her
+as far as the double chestnut tree above Pere Gruneau's blacksmith
+forge.
+
+M. Papineau, the kind, wise, meddling old notary, saw this, as
+he saw everything at which his nose pointed. He went to David,
+fortified himself with a great pinch of snuff, and said:
+
+"Friend Mignot, I affixed the seal upon the marriage certificate of
+your father. It would distress me to be obliged to attest a paper
+signifying the bankruptcy of his son. But that is what you are
+coming to. I speak as an old friend. Now, listen to what I have to
+say. You have your heart set, I perceive, upon poetry. At Dreux, I
+have a friend, one Monsieur Bril--Georges Bril. He lives in a little
+cleared space in a houseful of books. He is a learned man; he visits
+Paris each year; he himself has written books. He will tell you when
+the catacombs were made, how they found out the names of the stars,
+and why the plover has a long bill. The meaning and the form of
+poetry is to him as intelligent as the baa of a sheep is to you. I
+will give you a letter to him, and you shall take him your poems and
+let him read them. Then you will know if you shall write more, or
+give your attention to your wife and business."
+
+"Write the letter," said David, "I am sorry you did not speak of
+this sooner."
+
+At sunrise the next morning he was on the road to Dreux with the
+precious roll of poems under his arm. At noon he wiped the dust from
+his feet at the door of Monsieur Bril. That learned man broke the
+seal of M. Papineau's letter, and sucked up its contents through his
+gleaming spectacles as the sun draws water. He took David inside to
+his study and sat him down upon a little island beat upon by a sea
+of books.
+
+Monsieur Bril had a conscience. He flinched not even at a mass
+of manuscript the thickness of a finger length and rolled to an
+incorrigible curve. He broke the back of the roll against his knee
+and began to read. He slighted nothing; he bored into the lump as a
+worm into a nut, seeking for a kernel.
+
+Meanwhile, David sat, marooned, trembling in the spray of so much
+literature. It roared in his ears. He held no chart or compass for
+voyaging in that sea. Half the world, he thought, must be writing
+books.
+
+Monsieur Bril bored to the last page of the poems. Then he took off
+his spectacles, and wiped them with his handkerchief.
+
+"My old friend, Papineau, is well?" he asked.
+
+"In the best of health," said David.
+
+"How many sheep have you, Monsieur Mignot?"
+
+"Three hundred and nine, when I counted them yesterday. The flock
+has had ill fortune. To that number it has decreased from eight
+hundred and fifty."
+
+"You have a wife and home, and lived in comfort. The sheep brought
+you plenty. You went into the fields with them and lived in the
+keen air and ate the sweet bread of contentment. You had but to be
+vigilant and recline there upon nature's breast, listening to the
+whistle of the blackbirds in the grove. Am I right thus far?"
+
+"It was so," said David.
+
+"I have read all your verses," continued Monsieur Bril, his eyes
+wandering about his sea of books as if he conned the horizon for a
+sail. "Look yonder, through that window, Monsieur Mignot; tell me
+what you see in that tree."
+
+"I see a crow," said David, looking.
+
+"There is a bird," said Monsieur Bril, "that shall assist me where I
+am disposed to shirk a duty. You know that bird, Monsieur Mignot; he
+is the philosopher of the air. He is happy through submission to his
+lot. None so merry or full-crawed as he with his whimsical eye and
+rollicking step. The fields yield him what he desires. He never
+grieves that his plumage is not gay, like the oriole's. And you have
+heard, Monsieur Mignot, the notes that nature has given him? Is the
+nightingale any happier, do you think?"
+
+David rose to his feet. The crow cawed harshly from his tree.
+
+"I thank you, Monsieur Bril," he said, slowly. "There was not, then,
+one nightingale among all those croaks?"
+
+"I could not have missed it," said Monsieur Bril, with a sigh. "I
+read every word. Live your poetry, man; do not try to write it any
+more."
+
+"I thank you," said David, again. "And now I will be going back to
+my sheep."
+
+"If you would dine with me," said the man of books, "and overlook
+the smart of it, I will give you reasons at length."
+
+"No," said the poet, "I must be back in the fields cawing at my
+sheep."
+
+Back along the road to Vernoy he trudged with his poems under his
+arm. When he reached his village he turned into the shop of one
+Zeigler, a Jew out of Armenia, who sold anything that came to his
+hand.
+
+"Friend," said David, "wolves from the forest harass my sheep on the
+hills. I must purchase firearms to protect them. What have you?"
+
+"A bad day, this, for me, friend Mignot," said Zeigler, spreading
+his hands, "for I perceive that I must sell you a weapon that will
+not fetch a tenth of its value. Only last I week I bought from
+a peddlar a wagon full of goods that he procured at a sale by a
+_commissionaire_ of the crown. The sale was of the _chateau_ and
+belongings of a great lord--I know not his title--who has been
+banished for conspiracy against the king. There are some choice
+firearms in the lot. This pistol--oh, a weapon fit for a prince!--it
+shall be only forty francs to you, friend Mignot--if I lose ten by
+the sale. But perhaps an arquebuse--"
+
+"This will do," said David, throwing the money on the counter. "Is
+it charged?"
+
+"I will charge it," said Zeigler. "And, for ten francs more, add a
+store of powder and ball."
+
+David laid his pistol under his coat and walked to his cottage.
+Yvonne was not there. Of late she had taken to gadding much among
+the neighbours. But a fire was glowing in the kitchen stove. David
+opened the door of it and thrust his poems in upon the coals. As
+they blazed up they made a singing, harsh sound in the flue.
+
+"The song of the crow!" said the poet.
+
+He went up to his attic room and closed the door. So quiet was the
+village that a score of people heard the roar of the great pistol.
+They flocked thither, and up the stairs where the smoke, issuing,
+drew their notice.
+
+The men laid the body of the poet upon his bed, awkwardly arranging
+it to conceal the torn plumage of the poor black crow. The women
+chattered in a luxury of zealous pity. Some of them ran to tell
+Yvonne.
+
+M. Papineau, whose nose had brought him there among the first,
+picked up the weapon and ran his eye over its silver mountings with
+a mingled air of connoisseurship and grief.
+
+"The arms," he explained, aside, to the _cure_, "and crest of
+Monseigneur, the Marquis de Beaupertuys."
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE GUARDIAN OF THE ACCOLADE
+
+
+Not the least important of the force of the Weymouth Bank was Uncle
+Bushrod. Sixty years had Uncle Bushrod given of faithful service
+to the house of Weymouth as chattel, servitor, and friend. Of the
+colour of the mahogany bank furniture was Uncle Bushrod--thus dark
+was he externally; white as the uninked pages of the bank ledgers
+was his soul. Eminently pleasing to Uncle Bushrod would the
+comparison have been; for to him the only institution in existence
+worth considering was the Weymouth Bank, of which he was something
+between porter and generalissimo-in-charge.
+
+Weymouth lay, dreamy and umbrageous, among the low foothills
+along the brow of a Southern valley. Three banks there were in
+Weymouthville. Two were hopeless, misguided enterprises, lacking the
+presence and prestige of a Weymouth to give them glory. The third
+was The Bank, managed by the Weymouths--and Uncle Bushrod. In the
+old Weymouth homestead--the red brick, white-porticoed mansion,
+the first to your right as you crossed Elder Creek, coming into
+town--lived Mr. Robert Weymouth (the president of the bank), his
+widowed daughter, Mrs. Vesey--called "Miss Letty" by every one--and
+her two children, Nan and Guy. There, also in a cottage on the
+grounds, resided Uncle Bushrod and Aunt Malindy, his wife. Mr.
+William Weymouth (the cashier of the bank) lived in a modern, fine
+house on the principal avenue.
+
+Mr. Robert was a large, stout man, sixty-two years of age, with
+a smooth, plump face, long iron-gray hair and fiery blue eyes.
+He was high-tempered, kind, and generous, with a youthful smile
+and a formidable, stern voice that did not always mean what it
+sounded like. Mr. William was a milder man, correct in deportment
+and absorbed in business. The Weymouths formed The Family of
+Weymouthville, and were looked up to, as was their right of
+heritage.
+
+Uncle Bushrod was the bank's trusted porter, messenger, vassal, and
+guardian. He carried a key to the vault, just as Mr. Robert and Mr.
+William did. Sometimes there was ten, fifteen, or twenty thousand
+dollars in sacked silver stacked on the vault floor. It was safe
+with Uncle Bushrod. He was a Weymouth in heart, honesty, and pride.
+
+Of late Uncle Bushrod had not been without worry. It was on account
+of Marse Robert. For nearly a year Mr. Robert had been known to
+indulge in too much drink. Not enough, understand, to become tipsy,
+but the habit was getting a hold upon him, and every one was
+beginning to notice it. Half a dozen times a day he would leave the
+bank and step around to the Merchants and Planters' Hotel to take a
+drink. Mr. Robert's usual keen judgment and business capacity became
+a little impaired. Mr. William, a Weymouth, but not so rich in
+experience, tried to dam the inevitable backflow of the tide, but
+with incomplete success. The deposits in the Weymouth Bank dropped
+from six figures to five. Past-due paper began to accumulate, owing
+to injudicious loans. No one cared to address Mr. Robert on the
+subject of temperance. Many of his friends said that the cause of
+it had been the death of his wife some two years before. Others
+hesitated on account of Mr. Robert's quick temper, which was
+extremely apt to resent personal interference of such a nature. Miss
+Letty and the children noticed the change and grieved about it.
+Uncle Bushrod also worried, but he was one of those who would not
+have dared to remonstrate, although he and Marse Robert had been
+raised almost as companions. But there was a heavier shock coming to
+Uncle Bushrod than that caused by the bank president's toddies and
+juleps.
+
+Mr. Robert had a passion for fishing, which he usually indulged
+whenever the season and business permitted. One day, when reports
+had been coming in relating to the bass and perch, he announced his
+intention of making a two or three days' visit to the lakes. He was
+going down, he said, to Reedy Lake with Judge Archinard, an old
+friend.
+
+Now, Uncle Bushrod was treasurer of the Sons and Daughters of the
+Burning Bush. Every association he belonged to made him treasurer
+without hesitation. He stood AA1 in coloured circles. He was
+understood among them to be Mr. Bushrod Weymouth, of the Weymouth
+Bank.
+
+The night following the day on which Mr. Robert mentioned his
+intended fishing-trip the old man woke up and rose from his bed at
+twelve o'clock, declaring he must go down to the bank and fetch the
+pass-book of the Sons and Daughters, which he had forgotten to bring
+home. The bookkeeper had balanced it for him that day, put the
+cancelled checks in it, and snapped two elastic bands around it. He
+put but one band around other pass-books.
+
+Aunt Malindy objected to the mission at so late an hour, denouncing
+it as foolish and unnecessary, but Uncle Bushrod was not to be
+deflected from duty.
+
+"I done told Sister Adaline Hoskins," he said, "to come by here for
+dat book to-morrer mawnin' at sebin o'clock, for to kyar' it to de
+meetin' of de bo'd of 'rangements, and dat book gwine to be here
+when she come."
+
+So, Uncle Bushrod put on his old brown suit, got his thick hickory
+stick, and meandered through the almost deserted streets of
+Weymouthville. He entered the bank, unlocking the side door, and
+found the pass-book where he had left it, in the little back room
+used for consultations, where he always hung his coat. Looking about
+casually, he saw that everything was as he had left it, and was
+about to start for home when he was brought to a standstill by the
+sudden rattle of a key in the front door. Some one came quickly in,
+closed the door softly, and entered the counting-room through the
+door in the iron railing.
+
+That division of the bank's space was connected with the back room
+by a narrow passageway, now in deep darkness.
+
+Uncle Bushrod, firmly gripping his hickory stick, tiptoed gently
+up this passage until he could see the midnight intruder into the
+sacred precincts of the Weymouth Bank. One dim gas-jet burned there,
+but even in its nebulous light he perceived at once that the prowler
+was the bank's president.
+
+Wondering, fearful, undecided what to do, the old coloured man stood
+motionless in the gloomy strip of hallway, and waited developments.
+
+The vault, with its big iron door, was opposite him. Inside that
+was the safe, holding the papers of value, the gold and currency of
+the bank. On the floor of the vault was, perhaps, eighteen thousand
+dollars in silver.
+
+The president took his key from his pocket, opened the vault and
+went inside, nearly closing the door behind him. Uncle Bushrod saw,
+through the narrow aperture, the flicker of a candle. In a minute or
+two--it seemed an hour to the watcher--Mr. Robert came out, bringing
+with him a large hand-satchel, handling it in a careful but hurried
+manner, as if fearful that he might be observed. With one hand he
+closed and locked the vault door.
+
+With a reluctant theory forming itself beneath his wool, Uncle
+Bushrod waited and watched, shaking in his concealing shadow.
+
+Mr. Robert set the satchel softly upon a desk, and turned his coat
+collar up about his neck and ears. He was dressed in a rough suit
+of gray, as if for travelling. He glanced with frowning intentness
+at the big office clock above the burning gas-jet, and then looked
+lingeringly about the bank--lingeringly and fondly, Uncle Bushrod
+thought, as one who bids farewell to dear and familiar scenes.
+
+Now he caught up his burden again and moved promptly and softly out
+of the bank by the way he had come locking the front door behind
+him.
+
+For a minute or longer Uncle Bushrod was as stone in his tracks. Had
+that midnight rifler of safes and vaults been any other on earth
+than the man he was, the old retainer would have rushed upon him and
+struck to save the Weymouth property. But now the watcher's soul was
+tortured by the poignant dread of something worse than mere robbery.
+He was seized by an accusing terror that said the Weymouth name and
+the Weymouth honour were about to be lost. Marse Robert robbing the
+bank! What else could it mean? The hour of the night, the stealthy
+visit to the vault, the satchel brought forth full and with
+expedition and silence, the prowler's rough dress, his solicitous
+reading of the clock, and noiseless departure--what else could it
+mean?
+
+And then to the turmoil of Uncle Bushrod's thoughts came the
+corroborating recollection of preceding events--Mr. Robert's
+increasing intemperance and consequent many moods of royal high
+spirits and stern tempers; the casual talk he had heard in the bank
+of the decrease in business and difficulty in collecting loans.
+What else could it all mean but that Mr. Robert Weymouth was an
+absconder--was about to fly with the bank's remaining funds, leaving
+Mr. William, Miss Letty, little Nan, Guy, and Uncle Bushrod to bear
+the disgrace?
+
+During one minute Uncle Bushrod considered these things, and then he
+awoke to sudden determination and action.
+
+"Lawd! Lawd!" he moaned aloud, as he hobbled hastily toward the side
+door. "Sech a come-off after all dese here years of big doin's and
+fine doin's. Scan'lous sights upon de yearth when de Weymouth fambly
+done turn out robbers and 'bezzlers! Time for Uncle Bushrod to clean
+out somebody's chicken-coop and eben matters up. Oh, Lawd! Marse
+Robert, you ain't gwine do dat. 'N Miss Letty an' dem chillun so
+proud and talkin' 'Weymouth, Weymouth,' all de time! I'm gwine to
+stop you ef I can. 'Spec you shoot Mr. Nigger's head off ef he fool
+wid you, but I'm gwine stop you ef I can."
+
+Uncle Bushrod, aided by his hickory stick, impeded by his
+rheumatism, hurried down the street toward the railroad station,
+where the two lines touching Weymouthville met. As he had expected
+and feared, he saw there Mr. Robert, standing in the shadow of the
+building, waiting for the train. He held the satchel in his hand.
+
+When Uncle Bushrod came within twenty yards of the bank president,
+standing like a huge, gray ghost by the station wall, sudden
+perturbation seized him. The rashness and audacity of the thing he
+had come to do struck him fully. He would have been happy could he
+have turned and fled from the possibilities of the famous Weymouth
+wrath. But again he saw, in his fancy, the white reproachful face of
+Miss Letty, and the distressed looks of Nan and Guy, should he fail
+in his duty and they question him as to his stewardship.
+
+Braced by the thought, he approached in a straight line, clearing
+his throat and pounding with his stick so that he might be early
+recognized. Thus he might avoid the likely danger of too suddenly
+surprising the sometimes hasty Mr. Robert.
+
+"Is that you, Bushrod?" called the clamant, clear voice of the gray
+ghost.
+
+"Yes, suh, Marse Robert."
+
+"What the devil are you doing out at this time of night?"
+
+For the first time in his life, Uncle Bushrod told Marse Robert a
+falsehood. He could not repress it. He would have to circumlocute a
+little. His nerve was not equal to a direct attack.
+
+"I done been down, suh, to see ol' Aunt M'ria Patterson. She taken
+sick in de night, and I kyar'ed her a bottle of M'lindy's medercine.
+Yes, suh."
+
+"Humph!" said Robert. "You better get home out of the night air.
+It's damp. You'll hardly be worth killing to-morrow on account of
+your rheumatism. Think it'll be a clear day, Bushrod?"
+
+"I 'low it will, suh. De sun sot red las' night."
+
+Mr. Robert lit a cigar in the shadow, and the smoke looked like his
+gray ghost expanding and escaping into the night air. Somehow, Uncle
+Bushrod could barely force his reluctant tongue to the dreadful
+subject. He stood, awkward, shambling, with his feet upon the gravel
+and fumbling with his stick. But then, afar off--three miles away,
+at the Jimtown switch--he heard the faint whistle of the coming
+train, the one that was to transport the Weymouth name into the
+regions of dishonour and shame. All fear left him. He took off his
+hat and faced the chief of the clan he served, the great, royal,
+kind, lofty, terrible Weymouth--he bearded him there at the brink of
+the awful thing that was about to happen.
+
+"Marse Robert," he began, his voice quivering a little with the
+stress of his feelings, "you 'member de day dey-all rode de
+tunnament at Oak Lawn? De day, suh, dat you win in de ridin', and
+you crown Miss Lucy de queen?"
+
+"Tournament?" said Mr. Robert, taking his cigar from his mouth.
+"Yes, I remember very well the--but what the deuce are you talking
+about tournaments here at midnight for? Go 'long home, Bushrod. I
+believe you're sleep-walking."
+
+"Miss Lucy tetch you on de shoulder," continued the old man,
+never heeding, "wid a s'ord, and say: 'I mek you a knight, Suh
+Robert--rise up, pure and fearless and widout reproach.' Dat what
+Miss Lucy say. Dat's been a long time ago, but me nor you ain't
+forgot it. And den dar's another time we ain't forgot--de time when
+Miss Lucy lay on her las' bed. She sent for Uncle Bushrod, and she
+say: 'Uncle Bushrod, when I die, I want you to take good care of Mr.
+Robert. Seem like'--so Miss Lucy say--'he listen to you mo' dan to
+anybody else. He apt to be mighty fractious sometimes, and maybe
+he cuss you when you try to 'suade him but he need somebody what
+understand him to be 'round wid him. He am like a little child
+sometimes'--so Miss Lucy say, wid her eyes shinin' in her po', thin
+face--'but he always been'--dem was her words--'my knight, pure and
+fearless and widout reproach.'"
+
+Mr. Robert began to mask, as was his habit, a tendency to
+soft-heartedness with a spurious anger.
+
+"You--you old windbag!" he growled through a cloud of swirling cigar
+smoke. "I believe you are crazy. I told you to go home, Bushrod.
+Miss Lucy said that, did she? Well, we haven't kept the scutcheon
+very clear. Two years ago last week, wasn't it, Bushrod, when she
+died? Confound it! Are you going to stand there all night gabbing
+like a coffee-coloured gander?"
+
+The train whistled again. Now it was at the water tank, a mile away.
+
+"Marse Robert," said Uncle Bushrod, laying his hand on the satchel
+that the banker held. "For Gawd's sake, don' take dis wid you. I
+knows what's in it. I knows where you got it in de bank. Don' kyar'
+it wid you. Dey's big trouble in dat valise for Miss Lucy and Miss
+Lucy's child's chillun. Hit's bound to destroy de name of Weymouth
+and bow down dem dat own it wid shame and triberlation. Marse
+Robert, you can kill dis ole nigger ef you will, but don't take away
+dis 'er' valise. If I ever crosses over de Jordan, what I gwine to
+say to Miss Lucy when she ax me: 'Uncle Bushrod, wharfo' didn' you
+take good care of Mr. Robert?'"
+
+Mr. Robert Weymouth threw away his cigar and shook free one arm
+with that peculiar gesture that always preceded his outbursts of
+irascibility. Uncle Bushrod bowed his head to the expected storm,
+but he did not flinch. If the house of Weymouth was to fall, he
+would fall with it. The banker spoke, and Uncle Bushrod blinked with
+surprise. The storm was there, but it was suppressed to the
+quietness of a summer breeze.
+
+"Bushrod," said Mr. Robert, in a lower voice than he usually
+employed, "you have overstepped all bounds. You have presumed
+upon the leniency with which you have been treated to meddle
+unpardonably. So you know what is in this satchel! Your long and
+faithful service is some excuse, but--go home, Bushrod--not another
+word!"
+
+But Bushrod grasped the satchel with a firmer hand. The headlight of
+the train was now lightening the shadows about the station. The roar
+was increasing, and folks were stirring about at the track side.
+
+"Marse Robert, gimme dis 'er' valise. I got a right, suh, to talk to
+you dis 'er' way. I slaved for you and 'tended to you from a child
+up. I went th'ough de war as yo' body-servant tell we whipped de
+Yankees and sent 'em back to de No'th. I was at yo' weddin', and
+I was n' fur away when yo' Miss Letty was bawn. And Miss Letty's
+chillun, dey watches to-day for Uncle Bushrod when he come
+home ever' evenin'. I been a Weymouth, all 'cept in colour and
+entitlements. Both of us is old, Marse Robert. 'Tain't goin' to be
+long till we gwine to see Miss Lucy and has to give an account of
+our doin's. De ole nigger man won't be 'spected to say much mo' dan
+he done all he could by de fambly dat owned him. But de Weymouths,
+dey must say dey been livin' pure and fearless and widout reproach.
+Gimme dis valise, Marse Robert--I'm gwine to hab it. I'm gwine to
+take it back to the bank and lock it up in de vault. I'm gwine to do
+Miss Lucy's biddin'. Turn 'er loose, Marse Robert."
+
+The train was standing at the station. Some men were pushing trucks
+along the side. Two or three sleepy passengers got off and wandered
+away into the night. The conductor stepped to the gravel, swung his
+lantern and called: "Hello, Frank!" at some one invisible. The bell
+clanged, the brakes hissed, the conductor drawled: "All aboard!"
+
+Mr. Robert released his hold on the satchel. Uncle Bushrod hugged it
+to his breast with both arms, as a lover clasps his first beloved.
+
+"Take it back with you, Bushrod," said Mr. Robert, thrusting his
+hands into his pockets. "And let the subject drop--now mind! You've
+said quite enough. I'm going to take the train. Tell Mr. William I
+will be back on Saturday. Good night."
+
+The banker climbed the steps of the moving train and disappeared
+in a coach. Uncle Bushrod stood motionless, still embracing the
+precious satchel. His eyes were closed and his lips were moving in
+thanks to the Master above for the salvation of the Weymouth honour.
+He knew Mr. Robert would return when he said he would. The Weymouths
+never lied. Nor now, thank the Lord! could it be said that they
+embezzled the money in banks.
+
+Then awake to the necessity for further guardianship of Weymouth
+trust funds, the old man started for the bank with the redeemed
+satchel.
+
+
+
+Three hours from Weymouthville, in the gray dawn, Mr. Robert
+alighted from the train at a lonely flag-station. Dimly he could
+see the figure of a man waiting on the platform, and the shape
+of a spring-waggon, team and driver. Half a dozen lengthy bamboo
+fishing-poles projected from the waggon's rear.
+
+"You're here, Bob," said Judge Archinard, Mr. Robert's old friend
+and schoolmate. "It's going to be a royal day for fishing. I thought
+you said--why, didn't you bring along the stuff?"
+
+The president of the Weymouth Bank took off his hat and rumpled his
+gray locks.
+
+"Well, Ben, to tell you the truth, there's an infernally
+presumptuous old nigger belonging in my family that broke up
+the arrangement. He came down to the depot and vetoed the whole
+proceeding. He means all right, and--well, I reckon he _is_ right.
+Somehow, he had found out what I had along--though I hid it in the
+bank vault and sneaked it out at midnight. I reckon he has noticed
+that I've been indulging a little more than a gentleman should, and
+he laid for me with some reaching arguments.
+
+"I'm going to quit drinking," Mr. Robert concluded. "I've come to
+the conclusion that a man can't keep it up and be quite what he'd
+like to be--'pure and fearless and without reproach'--that's the way
+old Bushrod quoted it."
+
+"Well, I'll have to admit," said the judge, thoughtfully, as they
+climbed into the waggon, "that the old darkey's argument can't
+conscientiously be overruled."
+
+"Still," said Mr. Robert, with a ghost of a sigh, "there was two
+quarts of the finest old silk-velvet Bourbon in that satchel you
+ever wet your lips with."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE DISCOUNTERS OF MONEY
+
+
+The spectacle of the money-caliphs of the present day going about
+Bagdad-on-the-Subway trying to relieve the wants of the people is
+enough to make the great Al Raschid turn Haroun in his grave. If not
+so, then the assertion should do so, the real caliph having been a
+wit and a scholar and therefore a hater of puns.
+
+How properly to alleviate the troubles of the poor is one of the
+greatest troubles of the rich. But one thing agreed upon by all
+professional philanthropists is that you must never hand over any
+cash to your subject. The poor are notoriously temperamental; and
+when they get money they exhibit a strong tendency to spend it for
+stuffed olives and enlarged crayon portraits instead of giving it to
+the instalment man.
+
+And still, old Haroun had some advantages as an eleemosynarian.
+He took around with him on his rambles his vizier, Giafar (a
+vizier is a composite of a chauffeur, a secretary of state, and a
+night-and-day bank), and old Uncle Mesrour, his executioner, who
+toted a snickersnee. With this entourage a caliphing tour could
+hardly fail to be successful. Have you noticed lately any newspaper
+articles headed, "What Shall We Do With Our Ex-Presidents?" Well,
+now, suppose that Mr. Carnegie could engage _him_ and Joe Gans to
+go about assisting in the distribution of free libraries? Do you
+suppose any town would have had the hardihood to refuse one? That
+caliphalous combination would cause two libraries to grow where
+there had been only one set of E. P. Roe's works before.
+
+But, as I said, the money-caliphs are handicapped. They have the
+idea that earth has no sorrow that dough cannot heal; and they rely
+upon it solely. Al Raschid administered justice, rewarding the
+deserving, and punished whomsoever he disliked on the spot. He was
+the originator of the short-story contest. Whenever he succoured any
+chance pick-up in the bazaars he always made the succouree tell the
+sad story of his life. If the narrative lacked construction, style,
+and _esprit_ he commanded his vizier to dole him out a couple
+of thousand ten-dollar notes of the First National Bank of the
+Bosphorus, or else gave him a soft job as Keeper of the Bird
+Seed for the Bulbuls in the Imperial Gardens. If the story was a
+cracker-jack, he had Mesrour, the executioner, whack off his head.
+The report that Haroun Al Raschid is yet alive and is editing
+the magazine that your grandmother used to subscribe for lacks
+confirmation.
+
+And now follows the Story of the Millionaire, the Inefficacious
+Increment, and the Babes Drawn from the Wood.
+
+Young Howard Pilkins, the millionaire, got his money
+ornithologically. He was a shrewd judge of storks, and got in on
+the ground floor at the residence of his immediate ancestors,
+the Pilkins Brewing Company. For his mother was a partner in
+the business. Finally old man Pilkins died from a torpid liver,
+and then Mrs. Pilkins died from worry on account of torpid
+delivery-waggons--and there you have young Howard Pilkins with
+4,000,000; and a good fellow at that. He was an agreeable, modestly
+arrogant young man, who implicitly believed that money could buy
+anything that the world had to offer. And Bagdad-on-the-Subway for
+a long time did everything possible to encourage his belief.
+
+But the Rat-trap caught him at last; he heard the spring snap, and
+found his heart in a wire cage regarding a piece of cheese whose
+other name was Alice von der Ruysling.
+
+The Von der Ruyslings still live in that little square about which
+so much has been said, and in which so little has been done. To-day
+you hear of Mr. Tilden's underground passage, and you hear Mr.
+Gould's elevated passage, and that about ends the noise in the world
+made by Gramercy Square. But once it was different. The Von der
+Ruyslings live there yet, and they received _the first key ever made
+to Gramercy Park_.
+
+You shall have no description of Alice v. d. R. Just call up in your
+mind the picture of your own Maggie or Vera or Beatrice, straighten
+her nose, soften her voice, tone her down and then tone her up,
+make her beautiful and unattainable--and you have a faint dry-point
+etching of Alice. The family owned a crumbly brick house and a
+coachman named Joseph in a coat of many colours, and a horse so old
+that he claimed to belong to the order of the Perissodactyla, and
+had toes instead of hoofs. In the year 1898 the family had to buy
+a new set of harness for the Perissodactyl. Before using it they
+made Joseph smear it over with a mixture of ashes and soot. It
+was the Von der Ruysling family that bought the territory between
+the Bowery and East River and Rivington Street and the Statue of
+Liberty, in the year 1649, from an Indian chief for a quart of
+passementerie and a pair of Turkey-red portieres designed for a
+Harlem flat. I have always admired that Indian's perspicacity and
+good taste. All this is merely to convince you that the Von der
+Ruyslings were exactly the kind of poor aristocrats that turn down
+their noses at people who have money. Oh, well, I don't mean that; I
+mean people who have _just_ money.
+
+One evening Pilkins went down to the red brick house in Gramercy
+Square, and made what he thought was a proposal to Alice v. d. R.
+Alice, with her nose turned down, and thinking of his money,
+considered it a proposition, and refused it and him. Pilkins,
+summoning all his resources as any good general would have done,
+made an indiscreet references to the advantages that his money
+would provide. That settled it. The lady turned so cold that Walter
+Wellman himself would have waited until spring to make a dash for
+her in a dog-sled.
+
+But Pilkins was something of a sport himself. You can't fool all the
+millionaires every time the ball drops on the Western Union
+Building.
+
+"If, at any time," he said to A. v. d. R., "you feel that you would
+like to reconsider your answer, send me a rose like that."
+
+Pilkins audaciously touched a Jacque rose that she wore loosely in
+her hair.
+
+"Very well," said she. "And when I do, you will understand by it
+that either you or I have learned something new about the purchasing
+power of money. You've been spoiled, my friend. No, I don't think
+I could marry you. To-morrow I will send you back the presents you
+have given me."
+
+"Presents!" said Pilkins in surprise. "I never gave you a present in
+my life. I would like to see a full-length portrait of the man that
+you would take a present from. Why, you never would let me send you
+flowers or candy or even art calendars."
+
+"You've forgotten," said Alice v. d. R., with a little smile. "It
+was a long time ago when our families were neighbours. You were
+seven, and I was trundling my doll on the sidewalk. You have me a
+little gray, hairy kitten, with shoe-buttony eyes. Its head came
+off and it was full of candy. You paid five cents for it--you told
+me so. I haven't the candy to return to you--I hadn't developed a
+conscience at three, so I ate it. But I have the kitten yet, and I
+will wrap it up neatly to-night and send it to you to-morrow."
+
+Beneath the lightness of Alice v. d. R.'s talk the steadfastness of
+her rejection showed firm and plain. So there was nothing left for
+him but to leave the crumbly red brick house, and be off with his
+abhorred millions.
+
+On his way back, Pilkins walked through Madison Square. The hour
+hand of the clock hung about eight; the air was stingingly cool,
+but not at the freezing point. The dim little square seemed like a
+great, cold, unroofed room, with its four walls of houses, spangled
+with thousands of insufficient lights. Only a few loiterers were
+huddled here and there on the benches.
+
+But suddenly Pilkins came upon a youth sitting brave and, as
+if conflicting with summer sultriness, coatless, his white
+shirt-sleeves conspicuous in the light from the globe of an
+electric. Close to his side was a girl, smiling, dreamy, happy.
+Around her shoulders was, palpably, the missing coat of the
+cold-defying youth. It appeared to be a modern panorama of the Babes
+in the Wood, revised and brought up to date, with the exception that
+the robins hadn't turned up yet with the protecting leaves.
+
+With delight the money-caliphs view a situation that they think is
+relievable while you wait.
+
+Pilkins sat on the bench, one seat removed from the youth. He
+glanced cautiously and saw (as men do see; and women--oh! never can)
+that they were of the same order.
+
+Pilkins leaned over after a short time and spoke to the youth,
+who answered smilingly, and courteously. From general topics the
+conversation concentrated to the bed-rock of grim personalities.
+But Pilkins did it as delicately and heartily as any caliph could
+have done. And when it came to the point, the youth turned to him,
+soft-voiced and with his undiminished smile.
+
+"I don't want to seem unappreciative, old man," he said, with a
+youth's somewhat too-early spontaneity of address, "but, you see, I
+can't accept anything from a stranger. I know you're all right, and
+I'm tremendously obliged, but I couldn't think of borrowing from
+anybody. You see, I'm Marcus Clayton--the Claytons of Roanoke
+County, Virginia, you know. The young lady is Miss Eva Bedford--I
+reckon you've heard of the Bedfords. She's seventeen and one of the
+Bedfords of Bedford County. We've eloped from home to get married,
+and we wanted to see New York. We got in this afternoon. Somebody
+got my pocketbook on the ferry-boat, and I had only three cents in
+change outside of it. I'll get some work somewhere to-morrow, and
+we'll get married."
+
+"But, I say, old man," said Pilkins, in confidential low tones,
+"you can't keep the lady out here in the cold all night. Now, as for
+hotels--"
+
+"I told you," said the youth, with a broader smile, "that I didn't
+have but three cents. Besides, if I had a thousand, we'd have to
+wait here until morning. You can understand that, of course. I'm
+much obliged, but I can't take any of your money. Miss Bedford and
+I have lived an outdoor life, and we don't mind a little cold. I'll
+get work of some kind to-morrow. We've got a paper bag of cakes and
+chocolates, and we'll get along all right."
+
+"Listen," said the millionaire, impressively. "My name is Pilkins,
+and I'm worth several million dollars. I happen to have in my
+pockets about $800 or $900 in cash. Don't you think you are drawing
+it rather fine when you decline to accept as much of it as will make
+you and the young lady comfortable at least for the night?"
+
+"I can't say, sir, that I do think so," said Clayton of Roanoke
+County. "I've been raised to look at such things differently. But
+I'm mightily obliged to you, just the same."
+
+"Then you force me to say good night," said the millionaire.
+
+Twice that day had his money been scorned by simple ones to whom his
+dollars had appeared as but tin tobacco-tags. He was no worshipper
+of the actual minted coin or stamped paper, but he had always
+believed in its almost unlimited power to purchase.
+
+Pilkins walked away rapidly, and then turned abruptly and returned
+to the bench where the young couple sat. He took off his hat and
+began to speak. The girl looked at him with the same sprightly,
+glowing interest that she had been giving to the lights and statuary
+and sky-reaching buildings that made the old square seem so far away
+from Bedford County.
+
+"Mr.--er--Roanoke," said Pilkins, "I admire your--your indepen--your
+idiocy so much that I'm going to appeal to your chivalry. I believe
+that's what you Southerners call it when you keep a lady sitting
+outdoors on a bench on a cold night just to keep your old,
+out-of-date pride going. Now, I've a friend--a lady--whom I have
+known all my life--who lives a few blocks from here--with her
+parents and sisters and aunts, and all that kind of endorsement,
+of course. I am sure this lady would be happy and pleased to put
+up--that is, to have Miss--er--Bedford give her the pleasure of
+having her as a guest for the night. Don't you think, Mr. Roanoke,
+of--er--Virginia, that you could unbend your prejudices that far?"
+
+Clayton of Roanoke rose and held out his hand.
+
+"Old man," he said, "Miss Bedford will be much pleased to accept the
+hospitality of the lady you refer to."
+
+He formally introduced Mr. Pilkins to Miss Bedford. The girl
+looked at him sweetly and comfortably. "It's a lovely evening, Mr.
+Pilkins--don't you think so?" she said slowly.
+
+Pilkins conducted them to the crumbly red brick house of the Von der
+Ruyslings. His card brought Alice downstairs wondering. The runaways
+were sent into the drawing-room, while Pilkins told Alice all about
+it in the hall.
+
+"Of course, I will take her in," said Alice. "Haven't those Southern
+girls a thoroughbred air? Of course, she will stay here. You will
+look after Mr. Clayton, of course."
+
+"Will I?" said Pilkins, delightedly. "Oh yes, I'll look after him!
+As a citizen of New York, and therefore a part owner of its public
+parks, I'm going to extend to him the hospitality of Madison Square
+to-night. He's going to sit there on a bench till morning. There's
+no use arguing with him. Isn't he wonderful? I'm glad you'll look
+after the little lady, Alice. I tell you those Babes in the Wood
+made my--that is, er--made Wall Street and the Bank of England look
+like penny arcades."
+
+Miss Von der Ruysling whisked Miss Bedford of Bedford County up to
+restful regions upstairs. When she came down, she put an oblong
+small pasteboard box into Pilkins' hands.
+
+"Your present," she said, "that I am returning to you."
+
+"Oh, yes, I remember," said Pilkins, with a sigh, "the woolly
+kitten."
+
+He left Clayton on a park bench, and shook hands with him heartily.
+
+"After I get work," said the youth, "I'll look you up. Your address
+is on your card, isn't it? Thanks. Well, good night. I'm awfully
+obliged to you for your kindness. No, thanks, I don't smoke. Good
+night."
+
+In his room, Pilkins opened the box and took out the staring, funny
+kitten, long ago ravaged of his candy and minus one shoe-button eye.
+Pilkins looked at it sorrowfully.
+
+"After all," he said, "I don't believe that just money alone will--"
+
+And then he gave a shout and dug into the bottom of the box for
+something else that had been the kitten's resting-place--a crushed
+but red, red, fragrant, glorious, promising Jacqueminot rose.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE ENCHANTED PROFILE
+
+
+There are few Caliphesses. Women are Scheherazades by birth,
+predilection, instinct, and arrangement of the vocal cords. The
+thousand and one stories are being told every day by hundreds of
+thousands of viziers' daughters to their respective sultans. But
+the bowstring will get some of 'em yet if they don't watch out.
+
+I heard a story, though, of one lady Caliph. It isn't precisely
+an Arabian Nights story, because it brings in Cinderella, who
+flourished her dishrag in another epoch and country. So, if you
+don't mind the mixed dates (which seem to give it an Eastern
+flavour, after all), we'll get along.
+
+In New York there is an old, old hotel. You have seen woodcuts of
+it in the magazines. It was built--let's see--at a time when there
+was nothing above Fourteenth Street except the old Indian trail
+to Boston and Hammerstein's office. Soon the old hostelry will be
+torn down. And, as the stout walls are riven apart and the bricks
+go roaring down the chutes, crowds of citizens will gather at
+the nearest corners and weep over the destruction of a dear old
+landmark. Civic pride is strongest in New Bagdad; and the wettest
+weeper and the loudest howler against the iconoclasts will be the
+man (originally from Terre Haute) whose fond memories of the old
+hotel are limited to his having been kicked out from its free-lunch
+counter in 1873.
+
+At this hotel always stopped Mrs. Maggie Brown. Mrs. Brown was a
+bony woman of sixty, dressed in the rustiest black, and carrying a
+handbag made, apparently, from the hide of the original animal that
+Adam decided to call an alligator. She always occupied a small
+parlour and bedroom at the top of the hotel at a rental of two
+dollars per day. And always, while she was there, each day came
+hurrying to see her many men, sharp-faced, anxious-looking, with
+only seconds to spare. For Maggie Brown was said to be the third
+richest woman in the world; and these solicitous gentlemen were only
+the city's wealthiest brokers and business men seeking trifling
+loans of half a dozen millions or so from the dingy old lady with
+the prehistoric handbag.
+
+The stenographer and typewriter of the Acropolis Hotel (there! I've
+let the name of it out!) was Miss Ida Bates. She was a hold-over
+from the Greek classics. There wasn't a flaw in her looks. Some
+old-timer paying his regards to a lady said: "To have loved her was
+a liberal education." Well, even to have looked over the black hair
+and neat white shirtwaist of Miss Bates was equal to a full course
+in any correspondence school in the country. She sometimes did a
+little typewriting for me, and, as she refused to take the money
+in advance, she came to look upon me as something of a friend and
+protege. She had unfailing kindliness and a good nature; and not
+even a white-lead drummer or a fur importer had ever dared to cross
+the dead line of good behaviour in her presence. The entire force of
+the Acropolis, from the owner, who lived in Vienna, down to the head
+porter, who had been bedridden for sixteen years, would have sprung
+to her defence in a moment.
+
+One day I walked past Miss Bates's little sanctum Remingtorium,
+and saw in her place a black-haired unit--unmistakably a
+person--pounding with each of her forefingers upon the keys. Musing
+on the mutability of temporal affairs, I passed on. The next day I
+went on a two weeks' vacation. Returning, I strolled through the
+lobby of the Acropolis, and saw, with a little warm glow of auld
+lang syne, Miss Bates, as Grecian and kind and flawless as ever,
+just putting the cover on her machine. The hour for closing had
+come; but she asked me in to sit for a few minutes in the dictation
+chair. Miss Bates explained her absence from and return to the
+Acropolis Hotel in words identical with or similar to these
+following:
+
+"Well, Man, how are the stories coming?"
+
+"Pretty regularly," said I. "About equal to their going."
+
+"I'm sorry," said she. "Good typewriting is the main thing in a
+story. You've missed me, haven't you?"
+
+"No one," said I, "whom I have ever known knows as well as you do
+how to space properly belt buckles, semi-colons, hotel guests,
+and hairpins. But you've been away, too. I saw a package of
+peppermint-pepsin in your place the other day."
+
+"I was going to tell you all about it," said Miss Bates, "if you
+hadn't interrupted me.
+
+"Of course, you know about Maggie Brown, who stops here. Well, she's
+worth $40,000,000. She lives in Jersey in a ten-dollar flat. She's
+always got more cash on hand than half a dozen business candidates
+for vice-president. I don't know whether she carries it in her
+stocking or not, but I know she's mighty popular down in the part of
+town where they worship the golden calf.
+
+"Well, about two weeks ago, Mrs. Brown stops at the door and rubbers
+at me for ten minutes. I'm sitting with my side to her, striking off
+some manifold copies of a copper-mine proposition for a nice old man
+from Tonopah. But I always see everything all around me. When I'm
+hard at work I can see things through my side-combs; and I can leave
+one button unbuttoned in the back of my shirtwaist and see who's
+behind me. I didn't look around, because I make from eighteen to
+twenty dollars a week, and I didn't have to.
+
+"That evening at knocking-off time she sends for me to come up to
+her apartment. I expected to have to typewrite about two thousand
+words of notes-of-hand, liens, and contracts, with a ten-cent tip in
+sight; but I went. Well, Man, I was certainly surprised. Old Maggie
+Brown had turned human.
+
+"'Child,' says she, 'you're the most beautiful creature I ever saw
+in my life. I want you to quit your work and come and live with me.
+I've no kith or kin,' says she, 'except a husband and a son or two,
+and I hold no communication with any of 'em. They're extravagant
+burdens on a hard-working woman. I want you to be a daughter to me.
+They say I'm stingy and mean, and the papers print lies about my
+doing my own cooking and washing. It's a lie,' she goes on. 'I
+put my washing out, except the handkerchiefs and stockings and
+petticoats and collars, and light stuff like that. I've got forty
+million dollars in cash and stocks and bonds that are as negotiable
+as Standard Oil, preferred, at a church fair. I'm a lonely old woman
+and I need companionship. You're the most beautiful human being I
+ever saw,' says she. 'Will you come and live with me? I'll show 'em
+whether I can spend money or not,' she says.
+
+"Well, Man, what would you have done? Of course, I fell to it. And,
+to tell you the truth, I began to like old Maggie. It wasn't all on
+account of the forty millions and what she could do for me. I was
+kind of lonesome in the world too. Everybody's got to have somebody
+they can explain to about the pain in their left shoulder and how
+fast patent-leather shoes wear out when they begin to crack. And
+you can't talk about such things to men you meet in hotels--they're
+looking for just such openings.
+
+"So I gave up my job in the hotel and went with Mrs. Brown. I
+certainly seemed to have a mash on her. She'd look at me for half
+an hour at a time when I was sitting, reading, or looking at the
+magazines.
+
+"One time I says to her: 'Do I remind you of some deceased relative
+or friend of your childhood, Mrs. Brown? I've noticed you give me a
+pretty good optical inspection from time to time.'
+
+"'You have a face,' she says, 'exactly like a dear friend of
+mine--the best friend I ever had. But I like you for yourself,
+child, too,' she says.
+
+"And say, Man, what do you suppose she did? Loosened up like a
+Marcel wave in the surf at Coney. She took me to a swell dressmaker
+and gave her _a la carte_ to fit me out--money no object. They were
+rush orders, and madame locked the front door and put the whole
+force to work.
+
+"Then we moved to--where do you think?--no; guess again--that's
+right--the Hotel Bonton. We had a six-room apartment; and it cost
+$100 a day. I saw the bill. I began to love that old lady.
+
+"And then, Man, when my dresses began to come in--oh, I won't tell
+you about 'em! you couldn't understand. And I began to call her
+Aunt Maggie. You've read about Cinderella, of course. Well, what
+Cinderella said when the prince fitted that 3-1/2 A on her foot was
+a hard-luck story compared to the things I told myself.
+
+"Then Aunt Maggie says she is going to give me a coming-out banquet
+in the Bonton that'll make moving Vans of all the old Dutch families
+on Fifth Avenue.
+
+"'I've been out before, Aunt Maggie,' says I. 'But I'll come out
+again. But you know,' says I, 'that this is one of the swellest
+hotels in the city. And you know--pardon me--that it's hard to get
+a bunch of notables together unless you've trained for it.'
+
+"'Don't fret about that, child,' says Aunt Maggie. 'I don't send
+out invitations--I issue orders. I'll have fifty guests here that
+couldn't be brought together again at any reception unless it were
+given by King Edward or William Travers Jerome. They are men, of
+course, and all of 'em either owe me money or intend to. Some of
+their wives won't come, but a good many will.'
+
+"Well, I wish you could have been at that banquet. The dinner
+service was all gold and cut glass. There were about forty men and
+eight ladies present besides Aunt Maggie and I. You'd never have
+known the third richest woman in the world. She had on a new black
+silk dress with so much passementerie on it that it sounded exactly
+like a hailstorm I heard once when I was staying all night with a
+girl that lived in a top-floor studio.
+
+"And my dress!--say, Man, I can't waste the words on you. It was all
+hand-made lace--where there was any of it at all--and it cost $300.
+I saw the bill. The men were all bald-headed or white-whiskered, and
+they kept up a running fire of light repartee about 3-per cents. and
+Bryan and the cotton crop.
+
+"On the left of me was something that talked like a banker, and on
+my right was a young fellow who said he was a newspaper artist. He
+was the only--well, I was going to tell you.
+
+"After the dinner was over Mrs. Brown and I went up to the
+apartment. We had to squeeze our way through a mob of reporters all
+the way through the halls. That's one of the things money does for
+you. Say, do you happen to know a newspaper artist named Lathrop--a
+tall man with nice eyes and an easy way of talking? No, I don't
+remember what paper he works on. Well, all right.
+
+"When we got upstairs Mrs. Brown telephones for the bill right away.
+It came, and it was $600. I saw the bill. Aunt Maggie fainted. I got
+her on a lounge and opened the bead-work.
+
+"'Child,' says she, when she got back to the world, 'what was it? A
+raise of rent or an income-tax?'
+
+"'Just a little dinner,' says I. 'Nothing to worry about--hardly a
+drop in the bucket-shop. Sit up and take notice--a dispossess
+notice, if there's no other kind.'
+
+"But say, Man, do you know what Aunt Maggie did? She got cold feet!
+She hustled me out of that Hotel Bonton at nine the next morning. We
+went to a rooming-house on the lower West Side. She rented one room
+that had water on the floor below and light on the floor above.
+After we got moved all you could see in the room was about $1,500
+worth of new swell dresses and a one-burner gas-stove.
+
+"Aunt Maggie had had a sudden attack of the hedges. I guess
+everybody has got to go on a spree once in their life. A man spends
+his on highballs, and a woman gets woozy on clothes. But with forty
+million dollars--say, I'd like to have a picture of--but, speaking
+of pictures, did you ever run across a newspaper artist named
+Lathrop--a tall--oh, I asked you that before, didn't I? He was
+mighty nice to me at the dinner. His voice just suited me. I guess
+he must have thought I was to inherit some of Aunt Maggie's money.
+
+"Well, Mr. Man, three days of that light-housekeeping was plenty
+for me. Aunt Maggie was affectionate as ever. She'd hardly let me
+get out of her sight. But let me tell you. She was a hedger from
+Hedgersville, Hedger County. Seventy-five cents a day was the limit
+she set. We cooked our own meals in the room. There I was, with
+a thousand dollars' worth of the latest things in clothes, doing
+stunts over a one-burner gas-stove.
+
+"As I say, on the third day I flew the coop. I couldn't stand for
+throwing together a fifteen-cent kidney stew while wearing, at the
+same time, a $150 house-dress, with Valenciennes lace insertion. So
+I goes into the closet and puts on the cheapest dress Mrs. Brown had
+bought for me--it's the one I've got on now--not so bad for $75, is
+it? I'd left all my own clothes in my sister's flat in Brooklyn.
+
+"'Mrs. Brown, formerly "Aunt Maggie,"' says I to her, 'I'm going to
+extend my feet alternately, one after the other, in such a manner
+and direction that this tenement will recede from me in the quickest
+possible time. I am no worshipper of money,' says I, 'but there are
+some things I can't stand. I can stand the fabulous monster that
+I've read about that blows hot birds and cold bottles with the same
+breath. But I can't stand a quitter,' says I. 'They say you've got
+forty million dollars--well, you'll never have any less. And I was
+beginning to like you, too,' says I.
+
+"Well, the late Aunt Maggie kicks till the tears flow. She offers to
+move into a swell room with a two-burner stove and running water.
+
+"'I've spent an awful lot of money, child,' says she. 'We'll have
+to economize for a while. You're the most beautiful creature I ever
+laid eyes on,' she says, 'and I don't want you to leave me.'
+
+"Well, you see me, don't you? I walked straight to the Acropolis and
+asked for my job back, and I got it. How did you say your writings
+were getting along? I know you've lost out some by not having me to
+type 'em. Do you ever have 'em illustrated? And, by the way, did you
+ever happen to know a newspaper artist--oh, shut up! I know I asked
+you before. I wonder what paper he works on? It's funny, but I
+couldn't help thinking that he wasn't thinking about the money he
+might have been thinking I was thinking I'd get from old Maggie
+Brown. If I only knew some of the newspaper editors I'd--"
+
+The sound of an easy footstep came from the doorway. Ida Bates saw
+who it was with her back-hair comb. I saw her turn pink, perfect
+statue that she was--a miracle that I share with Pygmalion only.
+
+"Am I excusable?" she said to me--adorable petitioner that she
+became. "It's--it's Mr. Lathrop. I wonder if it really wasn't the
+money--I wonder, if after all, he--"
+
+Of course, I was invited to the wedding. After the ceremony I
+dragged Lathrop aside.
+
+"You are an artist," said I, "and haven't figured out why Maggie
+Brown conceived such a strong liking for Miss Bates--that was? Let
+me show you."
+
+The bride wore a simple white dress as beautifully draped as the
+costumes of the ancient Greeks. I took some leaves from one of the
+decorative wreaths in the little parlour, and made a chaplet of
+them, and placed them on nee Bates' shining chestnut hair, and made
+her turn her profile to her husband.
+
+"By jingo!" said he. "Isn't Ida's a dead ringer for the lady's head
+on the silver dollar?"
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+"NEXT TO READING MATTER"
+
+
+He compelled my interest as he stepped from the ferry at Desbrosses
+Street. He had the air of being familiar with hemispheres and
+worlds, and of entering New York as the lord of a demesne who
+revisited it in after years of absence. But I thought that, with all
+his air, he had never before set foot on the slippery cobblestones
+of the City of Too Many Caliphs.
+
+He wore loose clothes of a strange bluish drab colour, and a
+conservative, round Panama hat without the cock-a-loop indentations
+and cants with which Northern fanciers disfigure the tropic
+head-gear. Moreover, he was the homeliest man I have ever seen. His
+ugliness was less repellent than startling--arising from a sort of
+Lincolnian ruggedness and irregularity of feature that spellbound
+you with wonder and dismay. So may have looked afrites or the
+shapes metamorphosed from the vapour of the fisherman's vase. As he
+afterward told me, his name was Judson Tate; and he may as well be
+called so at once. He wore his green silk tie through a topaz ring;
+and he carried a cane made of the vertebrae of a shark.
+
+Judson Tate accosted me with some large and casual inquiries about
+the city's streets and hotels, in the manner of one who had but
+for the moment forgotten the trifling details. I could think of no
+reason for disparaging my own quiet hotel in the downtown district;
+so the mid-morning of the night found us already victualed and
+drinked (at my expense), and ready to be chaired and tobaccoed in a
+quiet corner of the lobby.
+
+There was something on Judson Tate's mind, and, such as it was, he
+tried to convey it to me. Already he had accepted me as his friend;
+and when I looked at his great, snuff-brown first-mate's hand, with
+which he brought emphasis to his periods, within six inches of my
+nose, I wondered if, by any chance, he was as sudden in conceiving
+enmity against strangers.
+
+When this man began to talk I perceived in him a certain power.
+His voice was a persuasive instrument, upon which he played with
+a somewhat specious but effective art. He did not try to make you
+forget his ugliness; he flaunted it in your face and made it part of
+the charm of his speech. Shutting your eyes, you would have trailed
+after this rat-catcher's pipes at least to the walls of Hamelin.
+Beyond that you would have had to be more childish to follow. But
+let him play his own tune to the words set down, so that if all is
+too dull, the art of music may bear the blame.
+
+"Women," said Judson Tate, "are mysterious creatures."
+
+My spirits sank. I was not there to listen to such a world-old
+hypothesis--to such a time-worn, long-ago-refuted, bald, feeble,
+illogical, vicious, patent sophistry--to an ancient, baseless,
+wearisome, ragged, unfounded, insidious, falsehood originated by
+women themselves, and by them insinuated, foisted, thrust, spread,
+and ingeniously promulgated into the ears of mankind by underhanded,
+secret and deceptive methods, for the purpose of augmenting,
+furthering, and reinforcing their own charms and designs.
+
+"Oh, I don't know!" said I, vernacularly.
+
+"Have you ever heard of Oratama?" he asked.
+
+"Possibly," I answered. "I seem to recall a toe dancer--or a
+suburban addition--or was it a perfume?--of some such name."
+
+"It is a town," said Judson Tate, "on the coast of a foreign
+country of which you know nothing and could understand less. It is
+a country governed by a dictator and controlled by revolutions and
+insubordination. It was there that a great life-drama was played,
+with Judson Tate, the homeliest man in America, and Fergus McMahan,
+the handsomest adventurer in history or fiction, and Senorita
+Anabela Zamora, the beautiful daughter of the alcalde of Oratama, as
+chief actors. And, another thing--nowhere else on the globe except
+in the department of Trienta y tres in Uruguay does the _chuchula_
+plant grow. The products of the country I speak of are valuable
+woods, dyestuffs, gold, rubber, ivory, and cocoa."
+
+"I was not aware," said I, "that South America produced any ivory."
+
+"There you are twice mistaken," said Judson Tate, distributing the
+words over at least an octave of his wonderful voice. "I did not say
+that the country I spoke of was in South America--I must be careful,
+my dear man; I have been in politics there, you know. But, even
+so--I have played chess against its president with a set carved
+from the nasal bones of the tapir--one of our native specimens
+of the order of _perissodactyle ungulates_ inhabiting the
+Cordilleras--which was as pretty ivory as you would care to see.
+
+"But is was of romance and adventure and the ways of women that was
+I going to tell you, and not of zoological animals.
+
+"For fifteen years I was the ruling power behind old Sancho
+Benavides, the Royal High Thumbscrew of the republic. You've seen
+his picture in the papers--a mushy black man with whiskers like the
+notes on a Swiss music-box cylinder, and a scroll in his right hand
+like the ones they write births on in the family Bible. Well, that
+chocolate potentate used to be the biggest item of interest anywhere
+between the colour line and the parallels of latitude. It was three
+throws, horses, whether he was to wind up in the Hall of Fame or the
+Bureau of Combustibles. He'd have been sure called the Roosevelt of
+the Southern Continent if it hadn't been that Grover Cleveland was
+President at the time. He'd hold office a couple of terms, then he'd
+sit out for a hand--always after appointing his own successor for
+the interims.
+
+"But it was not Benavides, the Liberator, who was making all this
+fame for himself. Not him. It was Judson Tate. Benavides was only
+the chip over the bug. I gave him the tip when to declare war and
+increase import duties and wear his state trousers. But that wasn't
+what I wanted to tell you. How did I get to be It? I'll tell you.
+Because I'm the most gifted talker that ever made vocal sounds since
+Adam first opened his eyes, pushed aside the smelling-salts, and
+asked: 'Where am I?'
+
+"As you observe, I am about the ugliest man you ever saw outside
+the gallery of photographs of the New England early Christian
+Scientists. So, at an early age, I perceived that what I lacked
+in looks I must make up in eloquence. That I've done. I get what I
+go after. As the back-stop and still small voice of old Benavides
+I made all the great historical powers-behind-the-throne, such
+as Talleyrand, Mrs. de Pompadour, and Loeb, look as small as the
+minority report of a Duma. I could talk nations into or out of debt,
+harangue armies to sleep on the battlefield, reduce insurrections,
+inflammations, taxes, appropriations or surpluses with a few words,
+and call up the dogs of war or the dove of peace with the same
+bird-like whistle. Beauty and epaulettes and curly moustaches and
+Grecian profiles in other men were never in my way. When people
+first look at me they shudder. Unless they are in the last stages
+of _angina pectoris_ they are mine in ten minutes after I begin to
+talk. Women and men--I win 'em as they come. Now, you wouldn't think
+women would fancy a man with a face like mine, would you?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Mr. Tate," said I. "History is bright and fiction dull
+with homely men who have charmed women. There seems--"
+
+"Pardon me," interrupted Judson Tate, "but you don't quite
+understand. You have yet to hear my story.
+
+"Fergus McMahan was a friend of mine in the capital. For a handsome
+man I'll admit he was the duty-free merchandise. He had blond curls
+and laughing blue eyes and was featured regular. They said he was a
+ringer for the statue they call Herr Mees, the god of speech and
+eloquence resting in some museum at Rome. Some German anarchist, I
+suppose. They are always resting and talking.
+
+"But Fergus was no talker. He was brought up with the idea that
+to be beautiful was to make good. His conversation was about as
+edifying as listening to a leak dropping in a tin dish-pan at the
+head of the bed when you want to go to sleep. But he and me got
+to be friends--maybe because we was so opposite, don't you think?
+Looking at the Hallowe'en mask that I call my face when I'm shaving
+seemed to give Fergus pleasure; and I'm sure that whenever I heard
+the feeble output of throat noises that he called conversation I
+felt contented to be a gargoyle with a silver tongue.
+
+"One time I found it necessary to go down to this coast town of
+Oratama to straighten out a lot of political unrest and chop off a
+few heads in the customs and military departments. Fergus, who owned
+the ice and sulphur-match concessions of the republic, says he'll
+keep me company.
+
+"So, in a jangle of mule-train bells, we gallops into Oratama, and
+the town belonged to us as much as Long Island Sound doesn't belong
+to Japan when T. R. is at Oyster Bay. I say us; but I mean me.
+Everybody for four nations, two oceans, one bay and isthmus, and
+five archipelagoes around had heard of Judson Tate. Gentleman
+adventurer, they called me. I had been written up in five columns of
+the yellow journals, 40,000 words (with marginal decorations) in a
+monthly magazine, and a stickful on the twelfth page of the New York
+_Times_. If the beauty of Fergus McMahan gained any part of our
+reception in Oratama, I'll eat the price-tag in my Panama. It was me
+that they hung out paper flowers and palm branches for. I am not a
+jealous man; I am stating facts. The people were Nebuchadnezzars;
+they bit the grass before me; there was no dust in the town for them
+to bite. They bowed down to Judson Tate. They knew that I was the
+power behind Sancho Benavides. A word from me was more to them than
+a whole deckle-edged library from East Aurora in sectional bookcases
+was from anybody else. And yet there are people who spend hours
+fixing their faces--rubbing in cold cream and massaging the muscles
+(always toward the eyes) and taking in the slack with tincture of
+benzoin and electrolyzing moles--to what end? Looking handsome.
+Oh, what a mistake! It's the larynx that the beauty doctors ought
+to work on. It's words more than warts, talk more than talcum,
+palaver more than powder, blarney more than bloom that counts--the
+phonograph instead of the photograph. But I was going to tell you.
+
+"The local Astors put me and Fergus up at the Centipede Club, a
+frame building built on posts sunk in the surf. The tide's only nine
+inches. The Little Big High Low Jack-in-the-game of the town came
+around and kowtowed. Oh, it wasn't to Herr Mees. They had heard
+about Judson Tate.
+
+"One afternoon me and Fergus McMahan was sitting on the seaward
+gallery of the Centipede, drinking iced rum and talking.
+
+"'Judson,' says Fergus, 'there's an angel in Oratama.'
+
+"'So long,' says I, 'as it ain't Gabriel, why talk as if you had
+heard a trump blow?'
+
+"'It's the Senorita Anabela Zamora,' says Fergus.
+'She's--she's--she's as lovely as--as hell!'
+
+"'Bravo!' says I, laughing heartily. 'You have a true lover's
+eloquence to paint the beauties of your inamorata. You remind me,'
+says I, 'of Faust's wooing of Marguerite--that is, if he wooed her
+after he went down the trap-door of the stage.'
+
+"'Judson,' says Fergus, 'you know you are as beautiless as a
+rhinoceros. You can't have any interest in women. I'm awfully gone
+in Miss Anabela. And that's why I'm telling you.'
+
+"'Oh, _seguramente_,' says I. 'I know I have a front elevation like
+an Aztec god that guards a buried treasure that never did exist
+in Jefferson County, Yucatan. But there are compensations. For
+instance, I am It in this country as far as the eye can reach, and
+then a few perches and poles. And again,' says I, 'when I engage
+people in a set-to of oral, vocal, and laryngeal utterances, I do
+not usually confine my side of the argument to what may be likened
+to a cheap phonographic reproduction of the ravings of a jellyfish.'
+
+"'Oh, I know,' says Fergus, amiable, 'that I'm not handy at small
+talk. Or large, either. That's why I'm telling you. I want you to
+help me.'
+
+"'How can I do it?' I asked.
+
+"'I have subsidized,' says Fergus, 'the services of Senorita
+Anabela's duenna, whose name is Francesca. You have a reputation
+in this country, Judson,' says Fergus, 'of being a great man and a
+hero.'
+
+"'I have,' says I. 'And I deserve it.'
+
+"'And I,' says Fergus, 'am the best-looking man between the arctic
+circle and antarctic ice pack.'
+
+"'With limitations,' says I, 'as to physiognomy and geography, I
+freely concede you to be.'
+
+"'Between the two of us,' says Fergus, 'we ought to land the
+Senorita Anabela Zamora. The lady, as you know, is of an old Spanish
+family, and further than looking at her driving in the family
+_carruaje_ of afternoons around the plaza, or catching a glimpse of
+her through a barred window of evenings, she is as unapproachable as
+a star.'
+
+"'Land her for which one of us?' says I.
+
+"'For me, of course,' says Fergus. 'You've never seen her. Now, I've
+had Francesca point me out to her as being you on several occasions.
+When she sees me on the plaza, she thinks she's looking at Don
+Judson Tate, the greatest hero, statesman, and romantic figure in
+the country. With your reputation and my looks combined in one
+man, how can she resist him? She's heard all about your thrilling
+history, of course. And she's seen me. Can any woman want more?'
+asks Fergus McMahan.
+
+"'Can she do with less?' I ask. 'How can we separate our mutual
+attractions, and how shall we apportion the proceeds?'
+
+"Then Fergus tells me his scheme.
+
+"The house of the alcalde, Don Luis Zamora, he says, has a _patio_,
+of course--a kind of inner courtyard opening from the street. In an
+angle of it is his daughter's window--as dark a place as you could
+find. And what do you think he wants me to do? Why, knowing my
+freedom, charm, and skilfulness of tongue, he proposes that I go
+into the _patio_ at midnight, when the hobgoblin face of me cannot
+be seen, and make love to her for him--for the pretty man that she
+has seen on the plaza, thinking him to be Don Judson Tate.
+
+"Why shouldn't I do it for him--for my friend, Fergus McMahan?
+For him to ask me was a compliment--an acknowledgment of his own
+shortcomings.
+
+"'You little, lily white, fine-haired, highly polished piece of dumb
+sculpture,' says I, 'I'll help you. Make your arrangements and get
+me in the dark outside her window and my stream of conversation
+opened up with the moonlight tremolo stop turned on, and she's
+yours.'
+
+"'Keep your face hid, Jud,' says Fergus. 'For heaven's sake, keep
+your face hid. I'm a friend of yours in all kinds of sentiment, but
+this is a business deal. If I could talk I wouldn't ask you. But
+seeing me and listening to you I don't see why she can't be landed.'
+
+"'By you?' says I.
+
+"'By me,' says Fergus.
+
+"Well, Fergus and the duenna, Francesca, attended to the details.
+And one night they fetched me a long black cloak with a high collar,
+and led me to the house at midnight. I stood by the window in the
+_patio_ until I heard a voice as soft and sweet as an angel's
+whisper on the other side of the bars. I could see only a faint,
+white clad shape inside; and, true to Fergus, I pulled the collar of
+my cloak high up, for it was July in the wet seasons, and the nights
+were chilly. And, smothering a laugh as I thought of the tongue-tied
+Fergus, I began to talk.
+
+"Well, sir, I talked an hour at the Senorita Anabela. I say 'at'
+because it was not 'with.' Now and then she would say: 'Oh, Senor,'
+or 'Now, ain't you foolin'?' or 'I know you don't mean that,' and
+such things as women will when they are being rightly courted. Both
+of us knew English and Spanish; so in two languages I tried to win
+the heart of the lady for my friend Fergus. But for the bars to
+the window I could have done it in one. At the end of the hour she
+dismissed me and gave me a big, red rose. I handed it over to Fergus
+when I got home.
+
+"For three weeks every third or fourth night I impersonated my
+friend in the _patio_ at the window of Senorita Anabela. At last she
+admitted that her heart was mine, and spoke of having seen me every
+afternoon when she drove in the plaza. It was Fergus she had seen,
+of course. But it was my talk that won her. Suppose Fergus had gone
+there, and tried to make a hit in the dark with his beauty all
+invisible, and not a word to say for himself!
+
+"On the last night she promised to be mine--that is, Fergus's. And
+she put her hand between the bars for me to kiss. I bestowed the
+kiss and took the news to Fergus.
+
+"'You might have left that for me to do,' says he.
+
+"'That'll be your job hereafter,' says I. 'Keep on doing that and
+don't try to talk. Maybe after she thinks she's in love she won't
+notice the difference between real conversation and the inarticulate
+sort of droning that you give forth.'
+
+"Now, I had never seen Senorita Anabela. So, the next day Fergus
+asks me to walk with him through the plaza and view the daily
+promenade and exhibition of Oratama society, a sight that had no
+interest for me. But I went; and children and dogs took to the
+banana groves and mangrove swamps as soon as they had a look at my
+face.
+
+"'Here she comes,' said Fergus, twirling his moustache--'the one
+in white, in the open carriage with the black horse.'
+
+"I looked and felt the ground rock under my feet. For Senorita
+Anabela Zamora was the most beautiful woman in the world, and the
+only one from that moment on, so far as Judson Tate was concerned. I
+saw at a glance that I must be hers and she mine forever. I thought
+of my face and nearly fainted; and then I thought of my other
+talents and stood upright again. And I had been wooing her for three
+weeks for another man!
+
+"As Senorita Anabela's carriage rolled slowly past, she gave Fergus
+a long, soft glance from the corners of her night-black eyes,
+a glance that would have sent Judson Tate up into heaven in a
+rubber-tired chariot. But she never looked at me. And that handsome
+man only ruffles his curls and smirks and prances like a lady-killer
+at my side.
+
+"'What do you think of her, Judson?' asks Fergus, with an air.
+
+"'This much,' says I. 'She is to be Mrs. Judson Tate. I am no man to
+play tricks on a friend. So take your warning.'
+
+"I thought Fergus would die laughing.
+
+"'Well, well, well,' said he, 'you old doughface! Struck too, are
+you? That's great! But you're too late. Francesca tells me that
+Anabela talks of nothing but me, day and night. Of course, I'm
+awfully obliged to you for making that chin-music to her of
+evenings. But, do you know, I've an idea that I could have done it
+as well myself.'
+
+"'Mrs. Judson Tate,' says I. 'Don't forget the name. You've had the
+use of my tongue to go with your good looks, my boy. You can't lend
+me your looks; but hereafter my tongue is my own. Keep your mind on
+the name that's to be on the visiting cards two inches by three and
+a half--"Mrs. Judson Tate." That's all.'
+
+"'All right,' says Fergus, laughing again. 'I've talked with her
+father, the alcalde, and he's willing. He's to give a _baile_
+to-morrow evening in his new warehouse. If you were a dancing man,
+Jud, I'd expect you around to meet the future Mrs. McMahan.'
+
+"But on the next evening, when the music was playing loudest at
+the Alcade Zamora's _baile_, into the room steps Judson Tate in
+new white linen clothes as if he were the biggest man in the whole
+nation, which he was.
+
+"Some of the musicians jumped off the key when they saw my face, and
+one or two of the timidest senoritas let out a screech or two. But
+up prances the alcalde and almost wipes the dust off my shoes with
+his forehead. No mere good looks could have won me that sensational
+entrance.
+
+"'I hear much, Senor Zamora,' says I, 'of the charm of your
+daughter. It would give me great pleasure to be presented to her.'
+
+"There were about six dozen willow rocking-chairs, with pink tidies
+tied on to them, arranged against the walls. In one of them sat
+Senorita Anabela in white Swiss and red slippers, with pearls and
+fireflies in her hair. Fergus was at the other end of the room
+trying to break away from two maroons and a claybank girl.
+
+"The alcalde leads me up to Anabela and presents me. When she took
+the first look at my face she dropped her fan and nearly turned her
+chair over from the shock. But I'm used to that.
+
+"I sat down by her, and began to talk. When she heard me speak she
+jumped, and her eyes got as big as alligator pears. She couldn't
+strike a balance between the tones of my voice and face I carried.
+But I kept on talking in the key of C, which is the ladies' key; and
+presently she sat still in her chair and a dreamy look came into her
+eyes. She was coming my way. She knew of Judson Tate, and what a
+big man he was, and the big things he had done; and that was in my
+favour. But, of course, it was some shock to her to find out that I
+was not the pretty man that had been pointed out to her as the great
+Judson. And then I took the Spanish language, which is better than
+English for certain purposes, and played on it like a harp of a
+thousand strings. I ranged from the second G below the staff up to
+F-sharp above it. I set my voice to poetry, art, romance, flowers,
+and moonlight. I repeated some of the verses that I had murmured to
+her in the dark at her window; and I knew from a sudden soft sparkle
+in her eye that she recognized in my voice the tones of her midnight
+mysterious wooer.
+
+"Anyhow, I had Fergus McMahan going. Oh, the vocal is the true
+art--no doubt about that. Handsome is as handsome palavers. That's
+the renovated proverb.
+
+"I took Senorita Anabela for a walk in the lemon grove while Fergus,
+disfiguring himself with an ugly frown, was waltzing with the
+claybank girl. Before we returned I had permission to come to her
+window in the _patio_ the next evening at midnight and talk some
+more.
+
+"Oh, it was easy enough. In two weeks Anabela was engaged to me, and
+Fergus was out. He took it calm, for a handsome man, and told me he
+wasn't going to give in.
+
+"'Talk may be all right in its place, Judson,' he says to me,
+'although I've never thought it worth cultivating. But,' says he,
+'to expect mere words to back up successfully a face like yours in a
+lady's good graces is like expecting a man to make a square meal on
+the ringing of a dinner-bell.'
+
+"But I haven't begun on the story I was going to tell you yet.
+
+"One day I took a long ride in the hot sunshine, and then took a
+bath in the cold waters of a lagoon on the edge of the town before
+I'd cooled off.
+
+"That evening after dark I called at the alcalde's to see Anabela. I
+was calling regular every evening then, and we were to be married in
+a month. She was looking like a bulbul, a gazelle, and a tea-rose,
+and her eyes were as soft and bright as two quarts of cream skimmed
+off from the Milky Way. She looked at my rugged features without
+any expression of fear or repugnance. Indeed, I fancied that I saw
+a look of deep admiration and affection, such as she had cast at
+Fergus on the plaza.
+
+"I sat down, and opened my mouth to tell Anabela what she loved
+to hear--that she was a trust, monopolizing all the loveliness of
+earth. I opened my mouth, and instead of the usual vibrating words
+of love and compliment, there came forth a faint wheeze such as
+a baby with croup might emit. Not a word--not a syllable--not an
+intelligible sound. I had caught cold in my laryngeal regions when
+I took my injudicious bath.
+
+"For two hours I sat trying to entertain Anabela. She talked a
+certain amount, but it was perfunctory and diluted. The nearest
+approach I made to speech was to formulate a sound like a clam
+trying to sing 'A Life on the Ocean Wave' at low tide. It seemed
+that Anabela's eyes did not rest upon me as often as usual. I had
+nothing with which to charm her ears. We looked at pictures and she
+played the guitar occasionally, very badly. When I left, her parting
+manner seemed cool--or at least thoughtful.
+
+"This happened for five evenings consecutively.
+
+"On the sixth day she ran away with Fergus McMahan.
+
+"It was known that they fled in a sailing yacht bound for Belize. I
+was only eight hours behind them in a small steam launch belonging
+to the Revenue Department.
+
+"Before I sailed, I rushed into the _botica_ of old Manuel Iquito, a
+half-breed Indian druggist. I could not speak, but I pointed to my
+throat and made a sound like escaping steam. He began to yawn. In
+an hour, according to the customs of the country, I would have been
+waited on. I reached across the counter, seized him by the throat,
+and pointed again to my own. He yawned once more, and thrust into my
+hand a small bottle containing a black liquid.
+
+"'Take one small spoonful every two hours,' says he.
+
+"I threw him a dollar and skinned for the steamer.
+
+"I steamed into the harbour at Belize thirteen seconds behind the
+yacht that Anabela and Fergus were on. They started for the shore in
+a dory just as my skiff was lowered over the side. I tried to order
+my sailormen to row faster, but the sounds died in my larynx before
+they came to the light. Then I thought of old Iquito's medicine, and
+I got out his bottle and took a swallow of it.
+
+"The two boats landed at the same moment. I walked straight up to
+Anabela and Fergus. Her eyes rested upon me for an instant; then she
+turned them, full of feeling and confidence, upon Fergus. I knew I
+could not speak, but I was desperate. In speech lay my only hope. I
+could not stand beside Fergus and challenge comparison in the way of
+beauty. Purely involuntarily, my larynx and epiglottis attempted to
+reproduce the sounds that my mind was calling upon my vocal organs
+to send forth.
+
+"To my intense surprise and delight the words rolled forth
+beautifully clear, resonant, exquisitely modulated, full of power,
+expression, and long-repressed emotion.
+
+"'Senorita Anabela,' says I, 'may I speak with you aside for a
+moment?'
+
+"You don't want details about that, do you? Thanks. The old
+eloquence had come back all right. I led her under a cocoanut palm
+and put my old verbal spell on her again.
+
+"'Judson,' says she, 'when you are talking to me I can hear nothing
+else--I can see nothing else--there is nothing and nobody else in
+the world for me.'
+
+"Well, that's about all of the story. Anabela went back to Oratama
+in the steamer with me. I never heard what became of Fergus. I never
+saw him any more. Anabela is now Mrs. Judson Tate. Has my story
+bored you much?"
+
+"No," said I. "I am always interested in psychological studies.
+A human heart--and especially a woman's--is a wonderful thing to
+contemplate."
+
+"It is," said Judson Tate. "And so are the trachea and bronchial
+tubes of man. And the larynx too. Did you ever make a study of the
+windpipe?"
+
+"Never," said I. "But I have taken much pleasure in your story.
+May I ask after Mrs. Tate, and inquire of her present health and
+whereabouts?"
+
+"Oh, sure," said Judson Tate. "We are living in Bergen Avenue,
+Jersey City. The climate down in Oratama didn't suit Mrs. T. I
+don't suppose you ever dissected the arytenoid cartilages of the
+epiglottis, did you?"
+
+"Why, no," said I, "I am no surgeon."
+
+"Pardon me," said Judson Tate, "but every man should know enough of
+anatomy and therapeutics to safeguard his own health. A sudden cold
+may set up capillary bronchitis or inflammation of the pulmonary
+vesicles, which may result in a serious affection of the vocal
+organs."
+
+"Perhaps so," said I, with some impatience; "but that is neither
+here nor there. Speaking of the strange manifestations of the
+affection of women, I--"
+
+"Yes, yes," interrupted Judson Tate; "they have peculiar ways. But,
+as I was going to tell you: when I went back to Oratama I found out
+from Manuel Iquito what was in that mixture he gave me for my lost
+voice. I told you how quick it cured me. He made that stuff from the
+_chuchula_ plant. Now, look here."
+
+Judson Tate drew an oblong, white pasteboard box from his pocket.
+
+"For any cough," he said, "or cold, or hoarseness, or bronchial
+affection whatsoever, I have here the greatest remedy in the world.
+You see the formula, printed on the box. Each tablet contains
+licorice, 2 grains; balsam tolu, 1/10 grain; oil of anise, 1/20
+minim; oil of tar, 1/60 minim; oleo-resin of cubebs, 1/60 minim;
+fluid extract of _chuchula_, 1/10 minim.
+
+"I am in New York," went on Judson Tate, "for the purpose of
+organizing a company to market the greatest remedy for throat
+affections ever discovered. At present I am introducing the lozenges
+in a small way. I have here a box containing four dozen, which I am
+selling for the small sum of fifty cents. If you are suffering--"
+
+
+
+I got up and went away without a word. I walked slowly up to the
+little park near my hotel, leaving Judson Tate alone with his
+conscience. My feelings were lacerated. He had poured gently upon me
+a story that I might have used. There was a little of the breath of
+life in it, and some of the synthetic atmosphere that passes, when
+cunningly tinkered, in the marts. And, at the last it had proven to
+be a commercial pill, deftly coated with the sugar of fiction. The
+worst of it was that I could not offer it for sale. Advertising
+departments and counting-rooms look down upon me. And it would
+never do for the literary. Therefore I sat upon a bench with other
+disappointed ones until my eyelids drooped.
+
+I went to my room, and, as my custom is, read for an hour stories in
+my favourite magazines. This was to get my mind back to art again.
+
+And as I read each story, I threw the magazines sadly and
+hopelessly, one by one, upon the floor. Each author, without one
+exception to bring balm to my heart, wrote liltingly and sprightly
+a story of some particular make of motor-car that seemed to control
+the sparking plug of his genius.
+
+And when the last one was hurled from me I took heart.
+
+"If readers can swallow so many proprietary automobiles," I said to
+myself, "they ought not to strain at one of Tate's Compound Magic
+Chuchula Bronchial Lozenges."
+
+And so if you see this story in print you will understand that
+business is business, and that if Art gets very far ahead of
+Commerce, she will have to get up and hustle.
+
+I may as well add, to make a clean job of it, that you can't buy the
+_chuchula_ plant in the drug stores.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+ART AND THE BRONCO
+
+
+Out of the wilderness had come a painter. Genius, whose coronations
+alone are democratic, had woven a chaplet of chaparral for the brow
+of Lonny Briscoe. Art, whose divine expression flows impartially
+from the fingertips of a cowboy or a dilettante emperor, had chosen
+for a medium the Boy Artist of the San Saba. The outcome, seven feet
+by twelve of besmeared canvas, stood, gilt-framed, in the lobby of
+the Capitol.
+
+The legislature was in session; the capital city of that great
+Western state was enjoying the season of activity and profit that
+the congregation of the solons bestowed. The boarding-houses were
+corralling the easy dollars of the gamesome lawmakers. The greatest
+state in the West, an empire in area and resources, had arisen and
+repudiated the old libel or barbarism, lawbreaking, and bloodshed.
+Order reigned within her borders. Life and property were as safe
+there, sir, as anywhere among the corrupt cities of the effete
+East. Pillow-shams, churches, strawberry feasts and _habeas corpus_
+flourished. With impunity might the tenderfoot ventilate his
+"stovepipe" or his theories of culture. The arts and sciences
+received nurture and subsidy. And, therefore, it behooved the
+legislature of this great state to make appropriation for the
+purchase of Lonny Briscoe's immortal painting.
+
+Rarely has the San Saba country contributed to the spread of the
+fine arts. Its sons have excelled in the solider graces, in the
+throw of the lariat, the manipulation of the esteemed .45, the
+intrepidity of the one-card draw, and the nocturnal stimulation of
+towns from undue lethargy; but, hitherto, it had not been famed as
+a stronghold of aesthetics. Lonny Briscoe's brush had removed that
+disability. Here, among the limestone rocks, the succulent cactus,
+and the drought-parched grass of that arid valley, had been born the
+Boy Artist. Why he came to woo art is beyond postulation. Beyond
+doubt, some spore of the afflatus must have sprung up within him in
+spite of the desert soil of San Saba. The tricksy spirit of creation
+must have incited him to attempted expression and then have sat
+hilarious among the white-hot sands of the valley, watching its
+mischievous work. For Lonny's picture, viewed as a thing of art,
+was something to have driven away dull care from the bosoms of the
+critics.
+
+The painting--one might almost say panorama--was designed to portray
+a typical Western scene, interest culminating in a central animal
+figure, that of a stampeding steer, life-size, wild-eyed, fiery,
+breaking away in a mad rush from the herd that, close-ridden by
+a typical cowpuncher, occupied a position somewhat in the right
+background of the picture. The landscape presented fitting and
+faithful accessories. Chaparral, mesquit, and pear were distributed
+in just proportions. A Spanish dagger-plant, with its waxen blossoms
+in a creamy aggregation as large as a water-bucket, contributed
+floral beauty and variety. The distance was undulating prairie,
+bisected by stretches of the intermittent streams peculiar to the
+region lined with the rich green of live-oak and water-elm. A richly
+mottled rattlesnake lay coiled beneath a pale green clump of prickly
+pear in the foreground. A third of the canvas was ultramarine and
+lake white--the typical Western sky and the flying clouds, rainless
+and feathery.
+
+Between two plastered pillars in the commodious hallway near the
+door of the chamber of representatives stood the painting. Citizens
+and lawmakers passed there by twos and groups and sometimes crowds
+to gaze upon it. Many--perhaps a majority of them--had lived the
+prairie life and recalled easily the familiar scene. Old cattlemen
+stood, reminiscent and candidly pleased, chatting with brothers of
+former camps and trails of the days it brought back to mind. Art
+critics were few in the town, and there was heard none of that
+jargon of colour, perspective, and feeling such as the East loves to
+use as a curb and a rod to the pretensions of the artist. 'Twas a
+great picture, most of them agreed, admiring the gilt frame--larger
+than any they had ever seen.
+
+Senator Kinney was the picture's champion and sponsor. It was
+he who so often stepped forward and asserted, with the voice of
+a bronco-buster, that it would be a lasting blot, sir, upon the
+name of this great state if it should decline to recognize in a
+proper manner the genius that had so brilliantly transferred to
+imperishable canvas a scene so typical of the great sources of our
+state's wealth and prosperity, land--and--er--live-stock.
+
+Senator Kinney represented a section of the state in the extreme
+West--400 miles from the San Saba country--but the true lover of
+art is not limited by metes and bounds. Nor was Senator Mullens,
+representing the San Saba country, lukewarm in his belief that
+the state should purchase the painting of his constituent. He was
+advised that the San Saba country was unanimous in its admiration
+of the great painting by one of its own denizens. Hundreds of
+connoisseurs had straddled their broncos and ridden miles to view
+it before its removal to the capital. Senator Mullens desired
+reelection, and he knew the importance of the San Saba vote. He also
+knew that with the help of Senator Kinney--who was a power in the
+legislature--the thing could be put through. Now, Senator Kinney had
+an irrigation bill that he wanted passed for the benefit of his own
+section, and he knew Senator Mullens could render him valuable aid
+and information, the San Saba country already enjoying the benefits
+of similar legislation. With these interests happily dovetailed,
+wonder at the sudden interest in art at the state capital must,
+necessarily, be small. Few artists have uncovered their first
+picture to the world under happier auspices than did Lonny Briscoe.
+
+Senators Kinney and Mullens came to an understanding in the matter
+of irrigation and art while partaking of long drinks in the cafe of
+the Empire Hotel.
+
+"H'm!" said Senator Kinney, "I don't know. I'm no art critic, but it
+seems to me the thing won't work. It looks like the worst kind of a
+chromo to me. I don't want to cast any reflections upon the artistic
+talent of your constituent, Senator, but I, myself, wouldn't give
+six bits for the picture--without the frame. How are you going
+to cram a thing like that down the throat of a legislature that
+kicks about a little item in the expense bill of six hundred and
+eighty-one dollars for rubber erasers for only one term? It's
+wasting time. I'd like to help you, Mullens, but they'd laugh us out
+of the Senate chamber if we were to try it."
+
+"But you don't get the point," said Senator Mullens, in his
+deliberate tones, tapping Kinney's glass with his long forefinger.
+"I have my own doubts as to what the picture is intended to
+represent, a bullfight or a Japanese allegory, but I want this
+legislature to make an appropriation to purchase. Of course, the
+subject of the picture should have been in the state historical
+line, but it's too late to have the paint scraped off and changed.
+The state won't miss the money and the picture can be stowed away in
+a lumber-room where it won't annoy any one. Now, here's the point to
+work on, leaving art to look after itself--the chap that painted the
+picture is the grandson of Lucien Briscoe."
+
+"Say it again," said Kinney, leaning his head thoughtfully. "Of the
+old, original Lucien Briscoe?"
+
+"Of him. 'The man who,' you know. The man who carved the state out
+of the wilderness. The man who settled the Indians. The man who
+cleaned out the horse thieves. The man who refused the crown. The
+state's favourite son. Do you see the point now?"
+
+"Wrap up the picture," said Kinney. "It's as good as sold. Why
+didn't you say that at first, instead of philandering along about
+art. I'll resign my seat in the Senate and go back to chain-carrying
+for the county surveyor the day I can't make this state buy a
+picture calcimined by a grandson of Lucien Briscoe. Did you ever
+hear of a special appropriation for the purchase of a home for the
+daughter of One-Eyed Smothers? Well, that went through like a motion
+to adjourn, and old One-Eyed never killed half as many Indians as
+Briscoe did. About what figure had you and the calciminer agreed
+upon to sandbag the treasury for?"
+
+"I thought," said Mullens, "that maybe five hundred--"
+
+"Five hundred!" interrupted Kinney, as he hammered on his glass for
+a lead pencil and looked around for a waiter. "Only five hundred for
+a red steer on the hoof delivered by a grandson of Lucien Briscoe!
+Where's your state pride, man? Two thousand is what it'll be. You'll
+introduce the bill and I'll get up on the floor of the Senate and
+wave the scalp of every Indian old Lucien ever murdered. Let's see,
+there was something else proud and foolish he did, wasn't there? Oh,
+yes; he declined all emoluments and benefits he was entitled to.
+Refused his head-right and veteran donation certificates. Could have
+been governor, but wouldn't. Declined a pension. Now's the state's
+chance to pay up. It'll have to take the picture, but then it
+deserves some punishment for keeping the Briscoe family waiting so
+long. We'll bring this thing up about the middle of the month, after
+the tax bill is settled. Now, Mullens, you send over, as soon as you
+can, and get me the figures on the cost of those irrigation ditches
+and the statistics about the increased production per acre. I'm
+going to need you when that bill of mine comes up. I reckon we'll
+be able to pull along pretty well together this session and maybe
+others to come, eh, Senator?"
+
+Thus did fortune elect to smile upon the Boy Artist of the San Saba.
+Fate had already done her share when she arranged his atoms in the
+cosmogony of creation as the grandson of Lucien Briscoe.
+
+The original Briscoe had been a pioneer both as to territorial
+occupation and in certain acts prompted by a great and simple heart.
+He had been one of the first settlers and crusaders against the wild
+forces of nature, the savage and the shallow politician. His name
+and memory were revered, equally with any upon the list comprising
+Houston, Boone, Crockett, Clark, and Green. He had lived simply,
+independently, and unvexed by ambition. Even a less shrewd man than
+Senator Kinney could have prophesied that his state would hasten to
+honour and reward his grandson, come out of the chaparral at even so
+late a day.
+
+And so, before the great picture by the door of the chamber of
+representatives at frequent times for many days could be found the
+breezy, robust form of Senator Kinney and be heard his clarion voice
+reciting the past deeds of Lucien Briscoe in connection with the
+handiwork of his grandson. Senator Mullens's work was more subdued
+in sight and sound, but directed along identical lines.
+
+Then, as the day for the introduction of the bill for appropriation
+draws nigh, up from the San Saba country rides Lonny Briscoe and a
+loyal lobby of cowpunchers, bronco-back, to boost the cause of art
+and glorify the name of friendship, for Lonny is one of them, a
+knight of stirrup and chaparreras, as handy with the lariat and .45
+as he is with brush and palette.
+
+On a March afternoon the lobby dashed, with a whoop, into town. The
+cowpunchers had adjusted their garb suitably from that prescribed
+for the range to the more conventional requirements of town. They
+had conceded their leather chaparreras and transferred their
+six-shooters and belts from their persons to the horns of their
+saddles. Among them rode Lonny, a youth of twenty-three, brown,
+solemn-faced, ingenuous, bowlegged, reticent, bestriding Hot
+Tamales, the most sagacious cow pony west of the Mississippi.
+Senator Mullens had informed him of the bright prospects of the
+situation; had even mentioned--so great was his confidence in the
+capable Kinney--the price that the state would, in all likelihood,
+pay. It seemed to Lonny that fame and fortune were in his hands.
+Certainly, a spark of the divine fire was in the little brown
+centaur's breast, for he was counting the two thousand dollars as
+but a means to future development of his talent. Some day he would
+paint a picture even greater than this--one, say, twelve feet by
+twenty, full of scope and atmosphere and action.
+
+During the three days that yet intervened before the coming of the
+date fixed for the introduction of the bill, the centaur lobby
+did valiant service. Coatless, spurred, weather-tanned, full of
+enthusiasm expressed in bizarre terms, they loafed in front of
+the painting with tireless zeal. Reasoning not unshrewdly, they
+estimated that their comments upon its fidelity to nature would be
+received as expert evidence. Loudly they praised the skill of the
+painter whenever there were ears near to which such evidence might
+be profitably addressed. Lem Perry, the leader of the claque, had a
+somewhat set speech, being uninventive in the construction of new
+phrases.
+
+"Look at that two-year-old, now," he would say, waving a
+cinnamon-brown hand toward the salient point of the picture.
+"Why, dang my hide, the critter's alive. I can jest hear him,
+'lumpety-lump,' a-cuttin' away from the herd, pretendin' he's
+skeered. He's a mean scamp, that there steer. Look at his eyes
+a-wallin' and his tail a-wavin'. He's true and nat'ral to life. He's
+jest hankerin' fur a cow pony to round him up and send him scootin'
+back to the bunch. Dang my hide! jest look at that tail of his'n
+a-wavin'. Never knowed a steer to wave his tail any other way, dang
+my hide ef I did."
+
+Jud Shelby, while admitting the excellence of the steer, resolutely
+confined himself to open admiration of the landscape, to the end
+that the entire picture receive its meed of praise.
+
+"That piece of range," he declared, "is a dead ringer for Dead Hoss
+Valley. Same grass, same lay of land, same old Whipperwill Creek
+skallyhootin' in and out of them motts of timber. Them buzzards on
+the left is circlin' 'round over Sam Kildrake's old paint hoss that
+killed hisself over-drinkin' on a hot day. You can't see the hoss
+for that mott of ellums on the creek, but he's thar. Anybody that
+was goin' to look for Dead Hoss Valley and come across this picture,
+why, he'd just light off'n his bronco and hunt a place to camp."
+
+Skinny Rogers, wedded to comedy, conceived a complimentary little
+piece of acting that never failed to make an impression. Edging
+quite near to the picture, he would suddenly, at favourable moments
+emit a piercing and awful "Yi-yi!" leap high and away, coming
+down with a great stamp of heels and whirring of rowels upon the
+stone-flagged floor.
+
+"Jeeming Cristopher!"--so ran his lines--"thought that rattler was a
+gin-u-ine one. Ding baste my skin if I didn't. Seemed to me I heard
+him rattle. Look at the blamed, unconverted insect a-layin' under
+that pear. Little more, and somebody would a-been snake-bit."
+
+With these artful dodges, contributed by Lonney's faithful coterie,
+with the sonorous Kinney perpetually sounding the picture's merits,
+and with the solvent prestige of the pioneer Briscoe covering it
+like a precious varnish, it seemed that the San Saba country could
+not fail to add a reputation as an art centre to its well-known
+superiority in steer-roping contests and achievements with the
+precarious busted flush. Thus was created for the picture an
+atmosphere, due rather to externals than to the artist's brush, but
+through it the people seemed to gaze with more of admiration. There
+was a magic in the name of Briscoe that counted high against faulty
+technique and crude colouring. The old Indian fighter and wolf
+slayer would have smiled grimly in his happy hunting grounds had he
+known that his dilettante ghost was thus figuring as an art patron
+two generations after his uninspired existence.
+
+Came the day when the Senate was expected to pass the bill of
+Senator Mullens appropriating two thousand dollars for the purchase
+of the picture. The gallery of the Senate chamber was early
+preempted by Lonny and the San Saba lobby. In the front row of
+chairs they sat, wild-haired, self-conscious, jingling, creaking,
+and rattling, subdued by the majesty of the council hall.
+
+The bill was introduced, went to the second reading, and then
+Senator Mullens spoke for it dryly, tediously, and at length.
+Senator Kinney then arose, and the welkin seized the bellrope
+preparatory to ringing. Oratory was at that time a living thing; the
+world had not quite come to measure its questions by geometry and
+the multiplication table. It was the day of the silver tongue, the
+sweeping gesture, the decorative apostrophe, the moving peroration.
+
+The Senator spoke. The San Saba contingent sat, breathing hard,
+in the gallery, its disordered hair hanging down to its eyes, its
+sixteen-ounce hats shifted restlessly from knee to knee. Below,
+the distinguished Senators either lounged at their desks with the
+abandon of proven statesmanship or maintained correct attitudes
+indicative of a first term.
+
+Senator Kinney spoke for an hour. History was his theme--history
+mitigated by patriotism and sentiment. He referred casually to the
+picture in the outer hall--it was unnecessary, he said, to dilate
+upon its merits--the Senators had seen for themselves. The painter
+of the picture was the grandson of Lucien Briscoe. Then came the
+word-pictures of Briscoe's life set forth in thrilling colours.
+His rude and venturesome life, his simple-minded love for the
+commonwealth he helped to upbuild, his contempt for rewards and
+praise, his extreme and sturdy independence, and the great services
+he had rendered the state. The subject of the oration was Lucien
+Briscoe; the painting stood in the background serving simply as a
+means, now happily brought forward, through which the state might
+bestow a tardy recompense upon the descendent of its favourite son.
+Frequent enthusiastic applause from the Senators testified to the
+well reception of the sentiment.
+
+The bill passed without an opening vote. To-morrow it would be taken
+up by the House. Already was it fixed to glide through that body on
+rubber tires. Blandford, Grayson, and Plummer, all wheel-horses and
+orators, and provided with plentiful memoranda concerning the deeds
+of pioneer Briscoe, had agreed to furnish the motive power.
+
+The San Saba lobby and its _protege_ stumbled awkwardly down the
+stairs and out into the Capitol yard. Then they herded closely and
+gave one yell of triumph. But one of them--Buck-Kneed Summers it
+was--hit the key with the thoughtful remark:
+
+"She cut the mustard," he said, "all right. I reckon they're goin'
+to buy Lon's steer. I ain't right much on the parlyment'ry, but I
+gather that's what the signs added up. But she seems to me, Lonny,
+the argyment ran principal to grandfather, instead of paint. It's
+reasonable calculatin' that you want to be glad you got the Briscoe
+brand on you, my son."
+
+That remarked clinched in Lonny's mind an unpleasant, vague
+suspicion to the same effect. His reticence increased, and he
+gathered grass from the ground, chewing it pensively. The picture
+as a picture had been humiliatingly absent from the Senator's
+arguments. The painter had been held up as a grandson, pure and
+simple. While this was gratifying on certain lines, it made art
+look little and slab-sided. The Boy Artist was thinking.
+
+The hotel Lonny stopped at was near the Capitol. It was near to the
+one o'clock dinner hour when the appropriation had been passed by
+the Senate. The hotel clerk told Lonny that a famous artist from New
+York had arrived in town that day and was in the hotel. He was on
+his way westward to New Mexico to study the effect of sunlight upon
+the ancient walls of the Zunis. Modern stones reflect light. Those
+ancient building materials absorb it. The artist wanted this effect
+in a picture he was painting, and was traveling two thousand miles
+to get it.
+
+Lonny sought this man out after dinner and told his story. The
+artist was an unhealthy man, kept alive by genius and indifference
+to life. He went with Lonny to the Capitol and stood there before
+the picture. The artist pulled his beard and looked unhappy.
+
+"Should like to have your sentiments," said Lonny, "just as they run
+out of the pen."
+
+"It's the way they'll come," said the painter man. "I took three
+different kinds of medicine before dinner--by the tablespoonful. The
+taste still lingers. I am primed for telling the truth. You want to
+know if the picture is, or if it isn't?"
+
+"Right," said Lonny. "Is it wool or cotton? Should I paint some more
+or cut it out and ride herd a-plenty?"
+
+"I heard a rumour during pie," said the artist, "that the state is
+about to pay you two thousand dollars for this picture."
+
+"It's passed the Senate," said Lonny, "and the House rounds it up
+to-morrow."
+
+"That's lucky," said the pale man. "Do you carry a rabbit's foot?"
+
+"No," said Lonny, "but it seems I had a grandfather. He's
+considerable mixed up in the colour scheme. It took me a year
+to paint that picture. Is she entirely awful or not? Some says,
+now, that the steer's tail ain't badly drawed. They think it's
+proportioned nice. Tell me."
+
+The artist glanced at Lonny's wiry figure and nut-brown skin.
+Something stirred him to a passing irritation.
+
+"For Art's sake, son," he said, fractiously, "don't spend any more
+money for paint. It isn't a picture at all. It's a gun. You hold up
+the state with it, if you like, and get your two thousand, but don't
+get in front of any more canvas. Live under it. Buy a couple of
+hundred ponies with the money--I'm told they're that cheap--and
+ride, ride, ride. Fill your lungs and eat and sleep and be happy. No
+more pictures. You look healthy. That's genius. Cultivate it." He
+looked at his watch. "Twenty minutes to three. Four capsules and one
+tablet at three. That's all you wanted to know, isn't it?"
+
+At three o'clock the cowpunchers rode up for Lonny, bringing Hot
+Tamales, saddled. Traditions must be observed. To celebrate the
+passage of the bill by the Senate the gang must ride wildly through
+the town, creating uproar and excitement. Liquor must be partaken
+of, the suburbs shot up, and the glory of the San Saba country
+vociferously proclaimed. A part of the programme had been carried
+out in the saloons on the way up.
+
+Lonny mounted Hot Tamales, the accomplished little beast prancing
+with fire and intelligence. He was glad to feel Lonny's bowlegged
+grip against his ribs again. Lonny was his friend, and he was
+willing to do things for him.
+
+"Come on, boys," said Lonny, urging Hot Tomales into a gallop with
+his knees. With a whoop, the inspired lobby tore after him through
+the dust. Lonny led his cohorts straight for the Capitol. With a
+wild yell, the gang endorsed his now evident intention of riding
+into it. Hooray for San Saba!
+
+Up the six broad, limestone steps clattered the broncos of the
+cowpunchers. Into the resounding hallway they pattered, scattering
+in dismay those passing on foot. Lonny, in the lead, shoved Hot
+Tamales direct for the great picture. At that hour a downpouring,
+soft light from the second-story windows bathed the big canvas.
+Against the darker background of the hall the painting stood out
+with valuable effect. In spite of the defects of the art you could
+almost fancy that you gazed out upon a landscape. You might well
+flinch a step from the convincing figure of the life-size steer
+stampeding across the grass. Perhaps it seemed thus to Hot Tamales.
+The scene was in his line. Perhaps he only obeyed the will of his
+rider. His ears pricked up; he snorted. Lonny leaned forward in
+the saddle and elevated his elbows, wing-like. Thus signals the
+cowpuncher to his steed to launch himself full speed ahead. Did Hot
+Tamales fancy he saw a steer, red and cavorting, that should be
+headed off and driven back to the herd? There was a fierce clatter
+of hoofs, a rush, a gathering of steely flank muscles, a leap to the
+jerk of the bridle rein, and Hot Tamales, with Lonny bending low in
+the saddle to dodge the top of the frame, ripped through the great
+canvas like a shell from a mortar, leaving the cloth hanging in
+ragged shreds about a monstrous hole.
+
+Quickly Lonny pulled up his pony, and rounded the pillars.
+Spectators came running, too astounded to add speech to the
+commotion. The sergeant-at-arms of the House came forth, frowned,
+looked ominous, and then grinned. Many of the legislators crowded
+out to observe the tumult. Lonny's cowpunchers were stricken to
+silent horror by his mad deed.
+
+Senator Kinney happened to be among the earliest to emerge. Before
+he could speak Lonny leaned in his saddle as Hot Tamales pranced,
+pointed his quirt at the Senator, and said, calmly:
+
+"That was a fine speech you made to-day, mister, but you might as
+well let up on that 'propriation business. I ain't askin' the state
+to give me nothin'. I thought I had a picture to sell to it, but it
+wasn't one. You said a heap of things about Grandfather Briscoe that
+makes me kind of proud I'm his grandson. Well, the Briscoes ain't
+takin' presents from the state yet. Anybody can have the frame that
+wants it. Hit her up, boys."
+
+Away scuttled the San Saba delegation out of the hall, down the
+steps, along the dusty street.
+
+Halfway to the San Saba country they camped that night. At bedtime
+Lonny stole away from the campfire and sought Hot Tamales, placidly
+eating grass at the end of his stake rope. Lonny hung upon his neck,
+and his art aspirations went forth forever in one long, regretful
+sigh. But as he thus made renunciation his breath formed a word or
+two.
+
+"You was the only one, Tamales, what seen anything in it. It _did_
+look like a steer, didn't it, old hoss?"
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+PHOEBE
+
+
+"You are a man of many novel adventures and varied enterprises," I
+said to Captain Patricio Malone. "Do you believe that the possible
+element of good luck or bad luck--if there is such a thing as
+luck--has influenced your career or persisted for or against you
+to such an extent that you were forced to attribute results to the
+operation of the aforesaid good luck or bad luck?"
+
+This question (of almost the dull insolence of legal phraseology)
+was put while we sat in Rousselin's little red-tiled cafe near Congo
+Square in New Orleans.
+
+Brown-faced, white-hatted, finger-ringed captains of adventure came
+often to Rousselin's for the cognac. They came from sea and land,
+and were chary of relating the things they had seen--not because
+they were more wonderful than the fantasies of the Ananiases of
+print, but because they were so different. And I was a perpetual
+wedding-guest, always striving to cast my buttonhole over the finger
+of one of these mariners of fortune. This Captain Malone was a
+Hiberno-Iberian creole who had gone to and fro in the earth and
+walked up and down in it. He looked like any other well-dressed man
+of thirty-five whom you might meet, except that he was hopelessly
+weather-tanned, and wore on his chain an ancient ivory-and-gold
+Peruvian charm against evil, which has nothing at all to do with
+this story.
+
+"My answer to your question," said the captain, smiling, "will be to
+tell you the story of Bad-Luck Kearny. That is, if you don't mind
+hearing it."
+
+My reply was to pound on the table for Rousselin.
+
+"Strolling along Tchoupitoulas Street one night," began Captain
+Malone, "I noticed, without especially taxing my interest, a small
+man walking rapidly toward me. He stepped upon a wooden cellar door,
+crashed through it, and disappeared. I rescued him from a heap of
+soft coal below. He dusted himself briskly, swearing fluently in a
+mechanical tone, as an underpaid actor recites the gypsy's curse.
+Gratitude and the dust in his throat seemed to call for fluids
+to clear them away. His desire for liquidation was expressed so
+heartily that I went with him to a cafe down the street where we had
+some vile vermouth and bitters.
+
+"Looking across that little table I had my first clear sight of
+Francis Kearny. He was about five feet seven, but as tough as a
+cypress knee. His hair was darkest red, his mouth such a mere slit
+that you wondered how the flood of his words came rushing from it.
+His eyes were the brightest and lightest blue and the hopefulest
+that I ever saw. He gave the double impression that he was at bay
+and that you had better not crowd him further.
+
+"'Just in from a gold-hunting expedition on the coast of Costa
+Rica,' he explained. 'Second mate of a banana steamer told me the
+natives were panning out enough from the beach sands to buy all
+the rum, red calico, and parlour melodeons in the world. The day I
+got there a syndicate named Incorporated Jones gets a government
+concession to all minerals from a given point. For a next choice I
+take coast fever and count green and blue lizards for six weeks in
+a grass hut. I had to be notified when I was well, for the reptiles
+were actually there. Then I shipped back as third cook on a
+Norwegian tramp that blew up her boiler two miles below Quarantine.
+I was due to bust through that cellar door here to-night, so I
+hurried the rest of the way up the river, roustabouting on a lower
+coast packet that made up a landing for every fisherman that wanted
+a plug of tobacco. And now I'm here for what comes next. And it'll
+be along, it'll be along,' said this queer Mr. Kearny; 'it'll be
+along on the beams of my bright but not very particular star.'
+
+"From the first the personality of Kearny charmed me. I saw in him
+the bold heart, the restless nature, and the valiant front against
+the buffets of fate that make his countrymen such valuable comrades
+in risk and adventure. And just then I was wanting such men. Moored
+at a fruit company's pier I had a 500-ton steamer ready to sail the
+next day with a cargo of sugar, lumber, and corrugated iron for a
+port in--well, let us call the country Esperando--it has not been
+long ago, and the name of Patricio Malone is still spoken there
+when its unsettled politics are discussed. Beneath the sugar and
+iron were packed a thousand Winchester rifles. In Aguas Frias,
+the capital, Don Rafael Valdevia, Minister of War, Esperando's
+greatest-hearted and most able patriot, awaited my coming. No
+doubt you have heard, with a smile, of the insignificant wars and
+uprisings in those little tropic republics. They make but a faint
+clamour against the din of great nations' battles; but down there,
+under all the ridiculous uniforms and petty diplomacy and senseless
+countermarching and intrigue, are to be found statesmen and
+patriots. Don Rafael Valdevia was one. His great ambition was to
+raise Esperando into peace and honest prosperity and the respect of
+the serious nations. So he waited for my rifles in Aguas Frias. But
+one would think I am trying to win a recruit in you! No; it was
+Francis Kearny I wanted. And so I told him, speaking long over our
+execrable vermouth, breathing the stifling odour from garlic and
+tarpaulins, which, as you know, is the distinctive flavour of cafes
+in the lower slant of our city. I spoke of the tyrant President
+Cruz and the burdens that his greed and insolent cruelty laid upon
+the people. And at that Kearny's tears flowed. And then I dried
+them with a picture of the fat rewards that would be ours when the
+oppressor should be overthrown and the wise and generous Valdevia
+in his seat. Then Kearny leaped to his feet and wrung my hand with
+the strength of a roustabout. He was mine, he said, till the last
+minion of the hated despot was hurled from the highest peaks of the
+Cordilleras into the sea.
+
+"I paid the score, and we went out. Near the door Kearny's elbow
+overturned an upright glass showcase, smashing it into little bits.
+I paid the storekeeper the price he asked.
+
+"'Come to my hotel for the night,' I said to Kearny. 'We sail
+to-morrow at noon.'
+
+"He agreed; but on the sidewalk he fell to cursing again in the dull
+monotonous way that he had done when I pulled him out of the coal
+cellar.
+
+"'Captain,' said he, 'before we go any further, it's no more than
+fair to tell you that I'm known from Baffin's Bay to Terra del Fuego
+as "Bad-Luck" Kearny. And I'm It. Everything I get into goes up in
+the air except a balloon. Every bet I ever made I lost except when I
+coppered it. Every boat I ever sailed on sank except the submarines.
+Everything I was ever interested in went to pieces except a patent
+bombshell that I invented. Everything I ever took hold of and tried
+to run I ran into the ground except when I tried to plough. And
+that's why they call me Bad-Luck Kearny. I thought I'd tell you.'
+
+"'Bad luck,' said I, 'or what goes by that name, may now and then
+tangle the affairs of any man. But if it persists beyond the
+estimate of what we may call the "averages" there must be a cause
+for it.'
+
+"'There is,' said Kearny emphatically, 'and when we walk another
+square I will show it to you.'
+
+"Surprised, I kept by his side until we came to Canal Street and out
+into the middle of its great width.
+
+"Kearny seized me by an arm and pointed a tragic forefinger at a
+rather brilliant star that shone steadily about thirty degrees above
+the horizon.
+
+"'That's Saturn,' said he, 'the star that presides over bad luck and
+evil and disappointment and nothing doing and trouble. I was born
+under that star. Every move I make, up bobs Saturn and blocks it.
+He's the hoodoo planet of the heavens. They say he's 73,000 miles in
+diameter and no solider of body than split-pea soup, and he's got as
+many disreputable and malignant rings as Chicago. Now, what kind of
+a star is that to be born under?'
+
+"I asked Kearny where he had obtained all this astonishing
+knowledge.
+
+"'From Azrath, the great astrologer of Cleveland, Ohio,' said he.
+'That man looked at a glass ball and told me my name before I'd
+taken a chair. He prophesied the date of my birth and death before
+I'd said a word. And then he cast my horoscope, and the sidereal
+system socked me in the solar plexus. It was bad luck for Francis
+Kearny from A to Izard and for his friends that were implicated with
+him. For that I gave up ten dollars. This Azrath was sorry, but he
+respected his profession too much to read the heavens wrong for any
+man. It was night time, and he took me out on a balcony and gave me
+a free view of the sky. And he showed me which Saturn was, and how
+to find it in different balconies and longitudes.
+
+"'But Saturn wasn't all. He was only the man higher up. He furnishes
+so much bad luck that they allow him a gang of deputy sparklers to
+help hand it out. They're circulating and revolving and hanging
+around the main supply all the time, each one throwing the hoodoo on
+his own particular district.
+
+"'You see that ugly little red star about eight inches above and to
+the right of Saturn?' Kearny asked me. 'Well, that's her. That's
+Phoebe. She's got me in charge. "By the day of your birth," says
+Azrath to me, "your life is subjected to the influence of Saturn. By
+the hour and minute of it you must dwell under the sway and direct
+authority of Phoebe, the ninth satellite." So said this Azrath.'
+Kearny shook his fist violently skyward. 'Curse her, she's done
+her work well,' said he. 'Ever since I was astrologized, bad luck
+has followed me like my shadow, as I told you. And for many years
+before. Now, Captain, I've told you my handicap as a man should. If
+you're afraid this evil star of mine might cripple your scheme,
+leave me out of it.'
+
+"I reassured Kearny as well as I could. I told him that for the time
+we would banish both astrology and astronomy from our heads. The
+manifest valour and enthusiasm of the man drew me. 'Let us see what
+a little courage and diligence will do against bad luck,' I said.
+'We will sail to-morrow for Esperando.'
+
+"Fifty miles down the Mississippi our steamer broke her rudder. We
+sent for a tug to tow us back and lost three days. When we struck
+the blue waters of the Gulf, all the storm clouds of the Atlantic
+seemed to have concentrated above us. We thought surely to sweeten
+those leaping waves with our sugar, and to stack our arms and lumber
+on the floor of the Mexican Gulf.
+
+"Kearny did not seek to cast off one iota of the burden of our
+danger from the shoulders of his fatal horoscope. He weathered every
+storm on deck, smoking a black pipe, to keep which alight rain and
+sea-water seemed but as oil. And he shook his fist at the black
+clouds behind which his baleful star winked its unseen eye. When the
+skies cleared one evening, he reviled his malignant guardian with
+grim humour.
+
+"'On watch, aren't you, you red-headed vixen? Out making it hot for
+little Francis Kearny and his friends, according to Hoyle. Twinkle,
+twinkle, little devil! You're a lady, aren't you?--dogging a man
+with your bad luck just because he happened to be born while your
+boss was floorwalker. Get busy and sink the ship, you one-eyed
+banshee. Phoebe! H'm! Sounds as mild as a milkmaid. You can't judge
+a woman by her name. Why couldn't I have had a man star? I can't
+make the remarks to Phoebe that I could to a man. Oh, Phoebe, you
+be--blasted!'
+
+"For eight days gales and squalls and waterspouts beat us from our
+course. Five days only should have landed us in Esperando. Our Jonah
+swallowed the bad credit of it with appealing frankness; but that
+scarcely lessened the hardships our cause was made to suffer.
+
+"At last one afternoon we steamed into the calm estuary of the
+little Rio Escondido. Three miles up this we crept, feeling for the
+shallow channel between the low banks that were crowded to the edge
+with gigantic trees and riotous vegetation. Then our whistle gave a
+little toot, and in five minutes we heard a shout, and Carlos--my
+brave Carlos Quintana--crashed through the tangled vines waving his
+cap madly for joy.
+
+"A hundred yards away was his camp, where three hundred chosen
+patriots of Esperando were awaiting our coming. For a month Carlos
+had been drilling them there in the tactics of war, and filling them
+with the spirit of revolution and liberty.
+
+"'My Captain--_compadre mio!_' shouted Carlos, while yet my boat was
+being lowered. 'You should see them in the drill by _companies_--in
+the column wheel--in the march by fours--they are superb! Also in
+the manual of arms--but, alas! performed only with sticks of bamboo.
+The guns, _capitan_--say that you have brought the guns!'
+
+"'A thousand Winchesters, Carlos,' I called to him. 'And two
+Gatlings.'
+
+"'_Valgame Dios!_' he cried, throwing his cap in the air. 'We shall
+sweep the world!'
+
+"At that moment Kearny tumbled from the steamer's side into the
+river. He could not swim, so the crew threw him a rope and drew him
+back aboard. I caught his eye and his look of pathetic but still
+bright and undaunted consciousness of his guilty luck. I told myself
+that although he might be a man to shun, he was also one to be
+admired.
+
+"I gave orders to the sailing-master that the arms, ammunition, and
+provisions were to be landed at once. That was easy in the steamer's
+boats, except for the two Gatling guns. For their transportation
+ashore we carried a stout flatboat, brought for the purpose in the
+steamer's hold.
+
+"In the meantime I walked with Carlos to the camp and made the
+soldiers a little speech in Spanish, which they received with
+enthusiasm; and then I had some wine and a cigarette in Carlos's
+tent. Later we walked back to the river to see how the unloading
+was being conducted.
+
+"The small arms and provisions were already ashore, and the petty
+officers and squads of men conveying them to camp. One Gatling had
+been safely landed; the other was just being hoisted over the side
+of the vessel as we arrived. I noticed Kearny darting about on
+board, seeming to have the ambition of ten men, and doing the work
+of five. I think his zeal bubbled over when he saw Carlos and me. A
+rope's end was swinging loose from some part of the tackle. Kearny
+leaped impetuously and caught it. There was a crackle and a hiss
+and a smoke of scorching hemp, and the Gatling dropped straight as
+a plummet through the bottom of the flatboat and buried itself in
+twenty feet of water and five feet of river mud.
+
+"I turned my back on the scene. I heard Carlos's loud cries as
+if from some extreme grief too poignant for words. I heard the
+complaining murmur of the crew and the maledictions of Torres, the
+sailing master--I could not bear to look.
+
+"By night some degree of order had been restored in camp. Military
+rules were not drawn strictly, and the men were grouped about the
+fires of their several messes, playing games of chance, singing
+their native songs, or discussing with voluble animation the
+contingencies of our march upon the capital.
+
+"To my tent, which had been pitched for me close to that of my chief
+lieutenant, came Kearny, indomitable, smiling, bright-eyed, bearing
+no traces of the buffets of his evil star. Rather was his aspect
+that of a heroic martyr whose tribulations were so high-sourced and
+glorious that he even took a splendour and a prestige from them.
+
+"'Well, Captain,' said he, 'I guess you realize that Bad-Luck Kearny
+is still on deck. It was a shame, now, about that gun. She only
+needed to be slewed two inches to clear the rail; and that's why I
+grabbed that rope's end. Who'd have thought that a sailor--even a
+Sicilian lubber on a banana coaster--would have fastened a line in a
+bow-knot? Don't think I'm trying to dodge the responsibility,
+Captain. It's my luck.'
+
+"'There are men, Kearny,' said I gravely, 'who pass through life
+blaming upon luck and chance the mistakes that result from their own
+faults and incompetency. I do not say that you are such a man. But
+if all your mishaps are traceable to that tiny star, the sooner we
+endow our colleges with chairs of moral astronomy, the better.'
+
+"'It isn't the size of the star that counts,' said Kearny; 'it's
+the quality. Just the way it is with women. That's why they give
+the biggest planets masculine names, and the little stars feminine
+ones--to even things up when it comes to getting their work in.
+Suppose they had called my star Agamemnon or Bill McCarty or
+something like that instead of Phoebe. Every time one of those old
+boys touched their calamity button and sent me down one of their
+wireless pieces of bad luck, I could talk back and tell 'em what I
+thought of 'em in suitable terms. But you can't address such remarks
+to a Phoebe.'
+
+"'It pleases you to make a joke of it, Kearny,' said I, without
+smiling. 'But it is no joke to me to think of my Gatling mired in
+the river ooze.'
+
+"'As to that,' said Kearny, abandoning his light mood at once,
+'I have already done what I could. I have had some experience in
+hoisting stone in quarries. Torres and I have already spliced three
+hawsers and stretched them from the steamer's stern to a tree on
+shore. We will rig a tackle and have the gun on terra firma before
+noon to-morrow.'
+
+"One could not remain long at outs with Bad-Luck Kearny.
+
+"'Once more,' said I to him, 'we will waive this question of luck.
+Have you ever had experience in drilling raw troops?'
+
+"'I was first sergeant and drill-master,' said Kearny, 'in the
+Chilean army for one year. And captain of artillery for another.'
+
+"'What became of your command?' I asked.
+
+"'Shot down to a man,' said Kearny, 'during the revolutions against
+Balmaceda.'
+
+"Somehow the misfortunes of the evil-starred one seemed to turn to
+me their comedy side. I lay back upon my goat's-hide cot and laughed
+until the woods echoed. Kearny grinned. 'I told you how it was,' he
+said.
+
+"'To-morrow,' I said, 'I shall detail one hundred men under your
+command for manual-of-arms drill and company evolutions. You will
+rank as lieutenant. Now, for God's sake, Kearny,' I urged him, 'try
+to combat this superstition if it is one. Bad luck may be like any
+other visitor--preferring to stop where it is expected. Get your
+mind off stars. Look upon Esperando as your planet of good fortune.'
+
+"'I thank you, Captain,' said Kearny quietly. 'I will try to make it
+the best handicap I ever ran.'
+
+"By noon the next day the submerged Gatling was rescued, as
+Kearny had promised. Then Carlos and Manuel Ortiz and Kearny (my
+lieutenants) distributed Winchesters among the troops and put them
+through an incessant rifle drill. We fired no shots, blank or solid,
+for of all coasts Esperando is the stillest; and we had no desire to
+sound any warnings in the ear of that corrupt government until they
+should carry with them the message of Liberty and the downfall of
+Oppression.
+
+"In the afternoon came a mule-rider bearing a written message to me
+from Don Rafael Valdevia in the capital, Aguas Frias.
+
+"Whenever that man's name comes to my lips, words of tribute to
+his greatness, his noble simplicity, and his conspicuous genius
+follow irrepressibly. He was a traveller, a student of peoples and
+governments, a master of sciences, a poet, an orator, a leader,
+a soldier, a critic of the world's campaigns and the idol of the
+people in Esperando. I had been honoured by his friendship for
+years. It was I who first turned his mind to the thought that he
+should leave for his monument a new Esperando--a country freed
+from the rule of unscrupulous tyrants, and a people made happy and
+prosperous by wise and impartial legislation. When he had consented
+he threw himself into the cause with the undivided zeal with which
+he endowed all of his acts. The coffers of his great fortune were
+opened to those of us to whom were entrusted the secret moves of the
+game. His popularity was already so great that he had practically
+forced President Cruz to offer him the portfolio of Minister of War.
+
+"The time, Don Rafael said in his letter, was ripe. Success, he
+prophesied, was certain. The people were beginning to clamour
+publicly against Cruz's misrule. Bands of citizens in the capital
+were even going about of nights hurling stones at public buildings
+and expressing their dissatisfaction. A bronze statue of President
+Cruz in the Botanical Gardens had been lassoed about the neck and
+overthrown. It only remained for me to arrive with my force and
+my thousand rifles, and for himself to come forward and proclaim
+himself the people's saviour, to overthrow Cruz in a single day.
+There would be but a half-hearted resistance from the six hundred
+government troops stationed in the capital. The country was ours.
+He presumed that by this time my steamer had arrived at Quintana's
+camp. He proposed the eighteenth of July for the attack. That would
+give us six days in which to strike camp and march to Aguas Frias.
+In the meantime Don Rafael remained my good friend and _compadre en
+la causa de la libertad_.
+
+"On the morning of the 14th we began our march toward the
+sea-following range of mountains, over the sixty-mile trail to the
+capital. Our small arms and provisions were laden on pack mules.
+Twenty men harnessed to each Gatling gun rolled them smoothly along
+the flat, alluvial lowlands. Our troops, well-shod and well-fed,
+moved with alacrity and heartiness. I and my three lieutenants were
+mounted on the tough mountain ponies of the country.
+
+"A mile out of camp one of the pack mules, becoming stubborn, broke
+away from the train and plunged from the path into the thicket. The
+alert Kearny spurred quickly after it and intercepted its flight.
+Rising in his stirrups, he released one foot and bestowed upon the
+mutinous animal a hearty kick. The mule tottered and fell with a
+crash broadside upon the ground. As we gathered around it, it walled
+its great eyes almost humanly towards Kearny and expired. That was
+bad; but worse, to our minds, was the concomitant disaster. Part of
+the mule's burden had been one hundred pounds of the finest coffee
+to be had in the tropics. The bag burst and spilled the priceless
+brown mass of the ground berries among the dense vines and weeds
+of the swampy land. _Mala suerte!_ When you take away from an
+Esperandan his coffee, you abstract his patriotism and 50 per cent.
+of his value as a soldier. The men began to rake up the precious
+stuff; but I beckoned Kearny back along the trail where they would
+not hear. The limit had been reached.
+
+"I took from my pocket a wallet of money and drew out some bills.
+
+"'Mr. Kearny,' said I, 'here are some funds belonging to Don Rafael
+Valdevia, which I am expending in his cause. I know of no better
+service it can buy for him than this. Here is one hundred dollars.
+Luck or no luck, we part company here. Star or no star, calamity
+seems to travel by your side. You will return to the steamer. She
+touches at Amotapa to discharge her lumber and iron, and then puts
+back to New Orleans. Hand this note to the sailing-master, who will
+give you passage.' I wrote on a leaf torn from my book, and placed
+it and the money in Kearny's hand.
+
+"'Good-bye,' I said, extending my own. 'It is not that I am
+displeased with you; but there is no place in this expedition
+for--let us say, the Senorita Phoebe.' I said this with a smile,
+trying to smooth the thing for him. 'May you have better luck,
+_companero_.'
+
+"Kearny took the money and the paper.
+
+"'It was just a little touch,' said he, 'just a little lift with the
+toe of my boot--but what's the odds?--that blamed mule would have
+died if I had only dusted his ribs with a powder puff. It was my
+luck. Well, Captain, I would have liked to be in that little fight
+with you over in Aguas Frias. Success to the cause. _Adios!_'
+
+"He turned around and set off down the trail without looking back.
+The unfortunate mule's pack-saddle was transferred to Kearny's pony,
+and we again took up the march.
+
+"Four days we journeyed over the foot-hills and mountains, fording
+icy torrents, winding around the crumbling brows of ragged peaks,
+creeping along the rocky flanges that overlooked awful precipices,
+crawling breathlessly over tottering bridges that crossed bottomless
+chasms.
+
+"On the evening of the seventeenth we camped by a little stream on
+the bare hills five miles from Aguas Frias. At daybreak we were to
+take up the march again.
+
+"At midnight I was standing outside my tent inhaling the fresh cold
+air. The stars were shining bright in the cloudless sky, giving the
+heavens their proper aspect of illimitable depth and distance when
+viewed from the vague darkness of the blotted earth. Almost at its
+zenith was the planet Saturn; and with a half-smile I observed the
+sinister red sparkle of his malignant attendant--the demon star of
+Kearny's ill luck. And then my thoughts strayed across the hills
+to the scene of our coming triumph where the heroic and noble Don
+Rafael awaited our coming to set a new and shining star in the
+firmament of nations.
+
+"I heard a slight rustling in the deep grass to my right. I turned
+and saw Kearny coming toward me. He was ragged and dew-drenched and
+limping. His hat and one boot were gone. About one foot he had tied
+some makeshift of cloth and grass. But his manner as he approached
+was that of a man who knows his own virtues well enough to be
+superior to rebuffs.
+
+"'Well, sir,' I said, staring at him coldly, 'if there is anything
+in persistence, I see no reason why you should not succeed in
+wrecking and ruining us yet.'
+
+"'I kept half a day's journey behind,' said Kearny, fishing out a
+stone from the covering of his lame foot, 'so the bad luck wouldn't
+touch you. I couldn't help it, Captain; I wanted to be in on this
+game. It was a pretty tough trip, especially in the department of
+the commissary. In the low grounds there were always bananas and
+oranges. Higher up it was worse; but your men left a good deal of
+goat meat hanging on the bushes in the camps. Here's your hundred
+dollars. You're nearly there now, captain. Let me in on the
+scrapping to-morrow.'
+
+"'Not for a hundred times a hundred would I have the tiniest thing
+go wrong with my plans now,' I said, 'whether caused by evil planets
+or the blunders of mere man. But yonder is Aguas Frias, five miles
+away, and a clear road. I am of the mind to defy Saturn and all his
+satellites to spoil our success now. At any rate, I will not turn
+away to-night as weary a traveller and as good a soldier as you are,
+Lieutenant Kearny. Manuel Ortiz's tent is there by the brightest
+fire. Rout him out and tell him to supply you with food and blankets
+and clothes. We march again at daybreak.'
+
+"Kearny thanked me briefly but feelingly and moved away.
+
+"He had gone scarcely a dozen steps when a sudden flash of bright
+light illumined the surrounding hills; a sinister, growing, hissing
+sound like escaping steam filled my ears. Then followed a roar as of
+distant thunder, which grew louder every instant. This terrifying
+noise culminated in a tremendous explosion, which seemed to rock
+the hills as an earthquake would; the illumination waxed to a glare
+so fierce that I clapped my hands over my eyes to save them. I
+thought the end of the world had come. I could think of no natural
+phenomenon that would explain it. My wits were staggering. The
+deafening explosion trailed off into the rumbling roar that had
+preceded it; and through this I heard the frightened shouts of my
+troops as they stumbled from their resting-places and rushed wildly
+about. Also I heard the harsh tones of Kearny's voice crying:
+'They'll blame it on me, of course, and what the devil it is, it's
+not Francis Kearny that can give you an answer.'
+
+"I opened my eyes. The hills were still there, dark and solid. It
+had not been, then, a volcano or an earthquake. I looked up at the
+sky and saw a comet-like trail crossing the zenith and extending
+westward--a fiery trail waning fainter and narrower each moment.
+
+"'A meteor!' I called aloud. 'A meteor has fallen. There is no
+danger.'
+
+"And then all other sounds were drowned by a great shout from
+Kearny's throat. He had raised both hands above his head and was
+standing tiptoe.
+
+"'PHOEBE'S GONE!' he cried, with all his lungs. 'She's busted and
+gone to hell. Look, Captain, the little red-headed hoodoo has blown
+herself to smithereens. She found Kearny too tough to handle, and
+she puffed up with spite and meanness till her boiler blew up. It's
+be Bad-Luck Kearny no more. Oh, let us be joyful!
+
+
+   "'Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall;
+     Humpty busted, and that'll be all!'
+
+
+"I looked up, wondering, and picked out Saturn in his place. But
+the small red twinkling luminary in his vicinity, which Kearny
+had pointed out to me as his evil star, had vanished. I had seen
+it there but half an hour before; there was no doubt that one of
+those awful and mysterious spasms of nature had hurled it from the
+heavens.
+
+"I clapped Kearny on the shoulder.
+
+"'Little man,' said I, 'let this clear the way for you. It appears
+that astrology has failed to subdue you. Your horoscope must be cast
+anew with pluck and loyalty for controlling stars. I play you to
+win. Now, get to your tent, and sleep. Daybreak is the word.'
+
+"At nine o'clock on the morning of the eighteenth of July I rode
+into Aguas Frias with Kearny at my side. In his clean linen suit and
+with his military poise and keen eye he was a model of a fighting
+adventurer. I had visions of him riding as commander of President
+Valdevia's body-guard when the plums of the new republic should
+begin to fall.
+
+"Carlos followed with the troops and supplies. He was to halt in a
+wood outside the town and remain concealed there until he received
+the word to advance.
+
+"Kearny and I rode down the Calle Ancha toward the _residencia_ of
+Don Rafael at the other side of the town. As we passed the superb
+white buildings of the University of Esperando, I saw at an open
+window the gleaming spectacles and bald head of Herr Bergowitz,
+professor of the natural sciences and friend of Don Rafael and of
+me and of the cause. He waved his hand to me, with his broad, bland
+smile.
+
+"There was no excitement apparent in Aguas Frias. The people went
+about leisurely as at all times; the market was thronged with
+bare-headed women buying fruit and _carne_; we heard the twang and
+tinkle of string bands in the patios of the _cantinas_. We could see
+that it was a waiting game that Don Rafael was playing.
+
+"His _residencia_ was a large but low building around a great
+courtyard in grounds crowed with ornamental trees and tropic shrubs.
+At his door an old woman who came informed us that Don Rafael had
+not yet arisen.
+
+"'Tell him,' said I, 'that Captain Malone and a friend wish to see
+him at once. Perhaps he has overslept.'
+
+"She came back looking frightened.
+
+"'I have called,' she said, 'and rung his bell many times, but he
+does not answer.'
+
+"I knew where his sleeping-room was. Kearny and I pushed by her and
+went to it. I put my shoulder against the thin door and forced it
+open.
+
+"In an armchair by a great table covered with maps and books sat Don
+Rafael with his eyes closed. I touched his hand. He had been dead
+many hours. On his head above one ear was a wound caused by a heavy
+blow. It had ceased to bleed long before.
+
+"I made the old woman call a _mozo_, and dispatched him in haste to
+fetch Herr Bergowitz.
+
+"He came, and we stood about as if we were half stunned by the awful
+shock. Thus can the letting of a few drops of blood from one man's
+veins drain the life of a nation.
+
+"Presently Herr Bergowitz stooped and picked up a darkish stone the
+size of an orange which he saw under the table. He examined it
+closely through his great glasses with the eye of science.
+
+"'A fragment,' said he, 'of a detonating meteor. The most remarkable
+one in twenty years exploded above this city a little after midnight
+this morning.'
+
+"The professor looked quickly up at the ceiling. We saw the blue sky
+through a hole the size of an orange nearly above Don Rafael's
+chair.
+
+"I heard a familiar sound, and turned. Kearny had thrown himself on
+the floor and was babbling his compendium of bitter, blood-freezing
+curses against the star of his evil luck.
+
+"Undoubtedly Phoebe had been feminine. Even when hurtling on her way
+to fiery dissolution and everlasting doom, the last word had been
+hers."
+
+
+
+Captain Malone was not unskilled in narrative. He knew the point
+where a story should end. I sat reveling in his effective conclusion
+when he aroused me by continuing:
+
+"Of course," said he, "our schemes were at an end. There was no one
+to take Don Rafael's place. Our little army melted away like dew
+before the sun.
+
+"One day after I had returned to New Orleans I related this story to
+a friend who holds a professorship in Tulane University.
+
+"When I had finished he laughed and asked whether I had any
+knowledge of Kearny's luck afterward. I told him no, that I had seen
+him no more; but that when he left me, he had expressed confidence
+that his future would be successful now that his unlucky star had
+been overthrown.
+
+"'No doubt,' said the professor, 'he is happier not to know one
+fact. If he derives his bad luck from Phoebe, the ninth satellite
+of Saturn, that malicious lady is still engaged in overlooking his
+career. The star close to Saturn that he imagined to be her was near
+that planet simply by the chance of its orbit--probably at different
+times he has regarded many other stars that happened to be in
+Saturn's neighbourhood as his evil one. The real Phoebe is visible
+only through a very good telescope.'
+
+"About a year afterward," continued Captain Malone, "I was walking
+down a street that crossed the Poydras Market. An immensely stout,
+pink-faced lacy in black satin crowded me from the narrow sidewalk
+with a frown. Behind her trailed a little man laden to the gunwales
+with bundles and bags of goods and vegetables.
+
+"It was Kearny--but changed. I stopped and shook one of his hands,
+which still clung to a bag of garlic and red peppers.
+
+"'How is the luck, old _companero_?' I asked him. I had not the
+heart to tell him the truth about his star.
+
+"'Well,' said he, 'I am married, as you may guess.'
+
+"'Francis!' called the big lady, in deep tones, 'are you going to
+stop in the street talking all day?'
+
+"'I am coming, Phoebe dear,' said Kearny, hastening after her."
+
+Captain Malone ceased again.
+
+"After all, do you believe in luck?" I asked.
+
+"Do you?" answered the captain, with his ambiguous smile shaded by
+the brim of his soft straw hat.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+A DOUBLE-DYED DECEIVER
+
+
+The trouble began in Laredo. It was the Llano Kid's fault, for he
+should have confined his habit of manslaughter to Mexicans. But the
+Kid was past twenty; and to have only Mexicans to one's credit at
+twenty is to blush unseen on the Rio Grande border.
+
+It happened in old Justo Valdos's gambling house. There was a poker
+game at which sat players who were not all friends, as happens often
+where men ride in from afar to shoot Folly as she gallops. There
+was a row over so small a matter as a pair of queens; and when the
+smoke had cleared away it was found that the Kid had committed
+an indiscretion, and his adversary had been guilty of a blunder.
+For, the unfortunate combatant, instead of being a Greaser, was a
+high-blooded youth from the cow ranches, of about the Kid's own age
+and possessed of friends and champions. His blunder in missing the
+Kid's right ear only a sixteenth of an inch when he pulled his gun
+did not lessen the indiscretion of the better marksman.
+
+The Kid, not being equipped with a retinue, nor bountifully supplied
+with personal admirers and supporters--on account of a rather
+umbrageous reputation, even for the border--considered it not
+incompatible with his indisputable gameness to perform that
+judicious tractional act known as "pulling his freight."
+
+Quickly the avengers gathered and sought him. Three of them overtook
+him within a rod of the station. The Kid turned and showed his teeth
+in that brilliant but mirthless smile that usually preceded his
+deeds of insolence and violence, and his pursuers fell back without
+making it necessary for him even to reach for his weapon.
+
+But in this affair the Kid had not felt the grim thirst for
+encounter that usually urged him on to battle. It had been a purely
+chance row, born of the cards and certain epithets impossible for
+a gentleman to brook that had passed between the two. The Kid had
+rather liked the slim, haughty, brown-faced young chap whom his
+bullet had cut off in the first pride of manhood. And now he wanted
+no more blood. He wanted to get away and have a good long sleep
+somewhere in the sun on the mesquit grass with his handkerchief over
+his face. Even a Mexican might have crossed his path in safety while
+he was in this mood.
+
+The Kid openly boarded the north-bound passenger train that departed
+five minutes later. But at Webb, a few miles out, where it was
+flagged to take on a traveller, he abandoned that manner of escape.
+There were telegraph stations ahead; and the Kid looked askance at
+electricity and steam. Saddle and spur were his rocks of safety.
+
+The man whom he had shot was a stranger to him. But the Kid knew
+that he was of the Coralitos outfit from Hidalgo; and that the
+punchers from that ranch were more relentless and vengeful than
+Kentucky feudists when wrong or harm was done to one of them. So,
+with the wisdom that has characterized many great fighters, the Kid
+decided to pile up as many leagues as possible of chaparral and pear
+between himself and the retaliation of the Coralitos bunch.
+
+Near the station was a store; and near the store, scattered among
+the mesquits and elms, stood the saddled horses of the customers.
+Most of them waited, half asleep, with sagging limbs and drooping
+heads. But one, a long-legged roan with a curved neck, snorted and
+pawed the turf. Him the Kid mounted, gripped with his knees, and
+slapped gently with the owner's own quirt.
+
+If the slaying of the temerarious card-player had cast a cloud over
+the Kid's standing as a good and true citizen, this last act of his
+veiled his figure in the darkest shadows of disrepute. On the Rio
+Grande border if you take a man's life you sometimes take trash; but
+if you take his horse, you take a thing the loss of which renders
+him poor, indeed, and which enriches you not--if you are caught. For
+the Kid there was no turning back now.
+
+With the springing roan under him he felt little care or uneasiness.
+After a five-mile gallop he drew in to the plainsman's jogging trot,
+and rode northeastward toward the Nueces River bottoms. He knew the
+country well--its most tortuous and obscure trails through the great
+wilderness of brush and pear, and its camps and lonesome ranches
+where one might find safe entertainment. Always he bore to the east;
+for the Kid had never seen the ocean, and he had a fancy to lay
+his hand upon the mane of the great Gulf, the gamesome colt of the
+greater waters.
+
+So after three days he stood on the shore at Corpus Christi, and
+looked out across the gentle ripples of a quiet sea.
+
+Captain Boone, of the schooner _Flyaway_, stood near his skiff,
+which one of his crew was guarding in the surf. When ready to sail
+he had discovered that one of the necessaries of life, in the
+parallelogrammatic shape of plug tobacco, had been forgotten. A
+sailor had been dispatched for the missing cargo. Meanwhile the
+captain paced the sands, chewing profanely at his pocket store.
+
+A slim, wiry youth in high-heeled boots came down to the water's
+edge. His face was boyish, but with a premature severity that hinted
+at a man's experience. His complexion was naturally dark; and the
+sun and wind of an outdoor life had burned it to a coffee brown. His
+hair was as black and straight as an Indian's; his face had not yet
+been upturned to the humiliation of a razor; his eyes were a cold
+and steady blue. He carried his left arm somewhat away from his
+body, for pearl-handled .45s are frowned upon by town marshals, and
+are a little bulky when placed in the left armhole of one's vest.
+He looked beyond Captain Boone at the gulf with the impersonal and
+expressionless dignity of a Chinese emperor.
+
+"Thinkin' of buyin' that'ar gulf, buddy?" asked the captain, made
+sarcastic by his narrow escape from a tobaccoless voyage.
+
+"Why, no," said the Kid gently, "I reckon not. I never saw it
+before. I was just looking at it. Not thinking of selling it, are
+you?"
+
+"Not this trip," said the captain. "I'll send it to you C.O.D. when
+I get back to Buenas Tierras. Here comes that capstanfooted lubber
+with the chewin'. I ought to've weighed anchor an hour ago."
+
+"Is that your ship out there?" asked the Kid.
+
+"Why, yes," answered the captain, "if you want to call a schooner
+a ship, and I don't mind lyin'. But you better say Miller and
+Gonzales, owners, and ordinary plain, Billy-be-damned old Samuel K.
+Boone, skipper."
+
+"Where are you going to?" asked the refugee.
+
+"Buenas Tierras, coast of South America--I forgot what they called
+the country the last time I was there. Cargo--lumber, corrugated
+iron, and machetes."
+
+"What kind of a country is it?" asked the Kid--"hot or cold?"
+
+"Warmish, buddy," said the captain. "But a regular Paradise Lost
+for elegance of scenery and be-yooty of geography. Ye're wakened
+every morning by the sweet singin' of red birds with seven purple
+tails, and the sighin' of breezes in the posies and roses. And the
+inhabitants never work, for they can reach out and pick steamer
+baskets of the choicest hothouse fruit without gettin' out of bed.
+And there's no Sunday and no ice and no rent and no troubles and no
+use and no nothin'. It's a great country for a man to go to sleep
+with, and wait for somethin' to turn up. The bananys and oranges and
+hurricanes and pineapples that ye eat comes from there."
+
+"That sounds to me!" said the Kid, at last betraying interest.
+"What'll the expressage be to take me out there with you?"
+
+"Twenty-four dollars," said Captain Boone; "grub and transportation.
+Second cabin. I haven't got a first cabin."
+
+"You've got my company," said the Kid, pulling out a buckskin bag.
+
+With three hundred dollars he had gone to Laredo for his regular
+"blowout." The duel in Valdos's had cut short his season of
+hilarity, but it had left him with nearly $200 for aid in the flight
+that it had made necessary.
+
+"All right, buddy," said the captain. "I hope your ma won't blame me
+for this little childish escapade of yours." He beckoned to one of
+the boat's crew. "Let Sanchez lift you out to the skiff so you won't
+get your feet wet."
+
+
+
+Thacker, the United States consul at Buenas Tierras, was not yet
+drunk. It was only eleven o'clock; and he never arrived at his
+desired state of beatitude--a state wherein he sang ancient maudlin
+vaudeville songs and pelted his screaming parrot with banana
+peels--until the middle of the afternoon. So, when he looked up from
+his hammock at the sound of a slight cough, and saw the Kid standing
+in the door of the consulate, he was still in a condition to extend
+the hospitality and courtesy due from the representative of a great
+nation. "Don't disturb yourself," said the Kid, easily. "I just
+dropped in. They told me it was customary to light at your camp
+before starting in to round up the town. I just came in on a ship
+from Texas."
+
+"Glad to see you, Mr.--" said the consul.
+
+The Kid laughed.
+
+"Sprague Dalton," he said. "It sounds funny to me to hear it. I'm
+called the Llano Kid in the Rio Grande country."
+
+"I'm Thacker," said the consul. "Take that cane-bottom chair. Now
+if you've come to invest, you want somebody to advise you. These
+dingies will cheat you out of the gold in your teeth if you don't
+understand their ways. Try a cigar?"
+
+"Much obliged," said the Kid, "but if it wasn't for my corn shucks
+and the little bag in my back pocket I couldn't live a minute." He
+took out his "makings," and rolled a cigarette.
+
+"They speak Spanish here," said the consul. "You'll need an
+interpreter. If there's anything I can do, why, I'd be delighted. If
+you're buying fruit lands or looking for a concession of any sort,
+you'll want somebody who knows the ropes to look out for you."
+
+"I speak Spanish," said the Kid, "about nine times better than I do
+English. Everybody speaks it on the range where I come from. And I'm
+not in the market for anything."
+
+"You speak Spanish?" said Thacker thoughtfully. He regarded the kid
+absorbedly.
+
+"You look like a Spaniard, too," he continued. "And you're from
+Texas. And you can't be more than twenty or twenty-one. I wonder if
+you've got any nerve."
+
+"You got a deal of some kind to put through?" asked the Texan, with
+unexpected shrewdness.
+
+"Are you open to a proposition?" said Thacker.
+
+"What's the use to deny it?" said the Kid. "I got into a little gun
+frolic down in Laredo and plugged a white man. There wasn't any
+Mexican handy. And I come down to your parrot-and-monkey range just
+for to smell the morning-glories and marigolds. Now, do you _sabe_?"
+
+Thacker got up and closed the door.
+
+"Let me see your hand," he said.
+
+He took the Kid's left hand, and examined the back of it closely.
+
+"I can do it," he said excitedly. "Your flesh is as hard as wood and
+as healthy as a baby's. It will heal in a week."
+
+"If it's a fist fight you want to back me for," said the Kid, "don't
+put your money up yet. Make it gun work, and I'll keep you company.
+But no barehanded scrapping, like ladies at a tea-party, for me."
+
+"It's easier than that," said Thacker. "Just step here, will you?"
+
+Through the window he pointed to a two-story white-stuccoed house
+with wide galleries rising amid the deep-green tropical foliage on a
+wooded hill that sloped gently from the sea.
+
+"In that house," said Thacker, "a fine old Castilian gentleman and
+his wife are yearning to gather you into their arms and fill your
+pockets with money. Old Santos Urique lives there. He owns half the
+gold-mines in the country."
+
+"You haven't been eating loco weed, have you?" asked the Kid.
+
+"Sit down again," said Thacker, "and I'll tell you. Twelve years ago
+they lost a kid. No, he didn't die--although most of 'em here do
+from drinking the surface water. He was a wild little devil, even
+if he wasn't but eight years old. Everybody knows about it. Some
+Americans who were through here prospecting for gold had letters to
+Senor Urique, and the boy was a favorite with them. They filled his
+head with big stories about the States; and about a month after
+they left, the kid disappeared, too. He was supposed to have stowed
+himself away among the banana bunches on a fruit steamer, and gone
+to New Orleans. He was seen once afterward in Texas, it was thought,
+but they never heard anything more of him. Old Urique has spent
+thousands of dollars having him looked for. The madam was broken up
+worst of all. The kid was her life. She wears mourning yet. But they
+say she believes he'll come back to her some day, and never gives up
+hope. On the back of the boy's left hand was tattooed a flying eagle
+carrying a spear in his claws. That's old Urique's coat of arms or
+something that he inherited in Spain."
+
+The Kid raised his left hand slowly and gazed at it curiously.
+
+"That's it," said Thacker, reaching behind the official desk for his
+bottle of smuggled brandy. "You're not so slow. I can do it. What
+was I consul at Sandakan for? I never knew till now. In a week I'll
+have the eagle bird with the frog-sticker blended in so you'd think
+you were born with it. I brought a set of the needles and ink just
+because I was sure you'd drop in some day, Mr. Dalton."
+
+"Oh, hell," said the Kid. "I thought I told you my name!"
+
+"All right, 'Kid,' then. It won't be that long. How does Senorito
+Urique sound, for a change?"
+
+"I never played son any that I remember of," said the Kid. "If I had
+any parents to mention they went over the divide about the time I
+gave my first bleat. What is the plan of your round-up?"
+
+Thacker leaned back against the wall and held his glass up to the
+light.
+
+"We've come now," said he, "to the question of how far you're
+willing to go in a little matter of the sort."
+
+"I told you why I came down here," said the Kid simply.
+
+"A good answer," said the consul. "But you won't have to go that
+far. Here's the scheme. After I get the trademark tattooed on your
+hand I'll notify old Urique. In the meantime I'll furnish you with
+all of the family history I can find out, so you can be studying up
+points to talk about. You've got the looks, you speak the Spanish,
+you know the facts, you can tell about Texas, you've got the tattoo
+mark. When I notify them that the rightful heir has returned and is
+waiting to know whether he will be received and pardoned, what will
+happen? They'll simply rush down here and fall on your neck, and the
+curtain goes down for refreshments and a stroll in the lobby."
+
+"I'm waiting," said the Kid. "I haven't had my saddle off in your
+camp long, pardner, and I never met you before; but if you intend to
+let it go at a parental blessing, why, I'm mistaken in my man,
+that's all."
+
+"Thanks," said the consul. "I haven't met anybody in a long time
+that keeps up with an argument as well as you do. The rest of it is
+simple. If they take you in only for a while it's long enough. Don't
+give 'em time to hunt up the strawberry mark on your left shoulder.
+Old Urique keeps anywhere from $50,000 to $100,000 in his house all
+the time in a little safe that you could open with a shoe buttoner.
+Get it. My skill as a tattooer is worth half the boddle. We go
+halves and catch a tramp steamer for Rio Janeiro. Let the United
+States go to pieces if it can't get along without my services. _Que
+dice, senor?_"
+
+"It sounds to me!" said the Kid, nodding his head. "I'm out for the
+dust."
+
+"All right, then," said Thacker. "You'll have to keep close until
+we get the bird on you. You can live in the back room here. I do
+my own cooking, and I'll make you as comfortable as a parsimonious
+Government will allow me."
+
+Thacker had set the time at a week, but it was two weeks before the
+design that he patiently tattooed upon the Kid's hand was to his
+notion. And then Thacker called a _muchacho_, and dispatched this
+note to the intended victim:
+
+
+   EL SENOR DON SANTOS URIQUE,
+   La Casa Blanca,
+
+   MY DEAR SIR:
+
+   I beg permission to inform you that there is in my house as
+   a temporary guest a young man who arrived in Buenas Tierras
+   from the United States some days ago. Without wishing to
+   excite any hopes that may not be realized, I think there is
+   a possibility of his being your long-absent son. It might be
+   well for you to call and see him. If he is, it is my opinion
+   that his intention was to return to his home, but upon
+   arriving here, his courage failed him from doubts as to how
+   he would be received. Your true servant,
+
+   THOMPSON THACKER.
+
+
+Half an hour afterward--quick time for Buenas Tierras--Senor
+Urique's ancient landau drove to the consul's door, with the
+barefooted coachman beating and shouting at the team of fat, awkward
+horses.
+
+A tall man with a white moustache alighted, and assisted to the
+ground a lady who was dressed and veiled in unrelieved black.
+
+The two hastened inside, and were met by Thacker with his best
+diplomatic bow. By his desk stood a slender young man with
+clear-cut, sun-browned features and smoothly brushed black hair.
+
+Senora Urique threw back her black veil with a quick gesture. She
+was past middle age, and her hair was beginning to silver, but her
+full, proud figure and clear olive skin retained traces of the
+beauty peculiar to the Basque province. But, once you had seen her
+eyes, and comprehended the great sadness that was revealed in their
+deep shadows and hopeless expression, you saw that the woman lived
+only in some memory.
+
+She bent upon the young man a long look of the most agonized
+questioning. Then her great black eyes turned, and her gaze rested
+upon his left hand. And then with a sob, not loud, but seeming to
+shake the room, she cried "_Hijo mio!_" and caught the Llano Kid to
+her heart.
+
+A month afterward the Kid came to the consulate in response to a
+message sent by Thacker.
+
+He looked the young Spanish _caballero_. His clothes were imported,
+and the wiles of the jewellers had not been spent upon him in vain.
+A more than respectable diamond shone on his finger as he rolled a
+shuck cigarette.
+
+"What's doing?" asked Thacker.
+
+"Nothing much," said the Kid calmly. "I eat my first iguana steak
+to-day. They're them big lizards, you _sabe_? I reckon, though, that
+frijoles and side bacon would do me about as well. Do you care for
+iguanas, Thacker?"
+
+"No, nor for some other kinds of reptiles," said Thacker.
+
+It was three in the afternoon, and in another hour he would be in
+his state of beatitude.
+
+"It's time you were making good, sonny," he went on, with an ugly
+look on his reddened face. "You're not playing up to me square.
+You've been the prodigal son for four weeks now, and you could have
+had veal for every meal on a gold dish if you'd wanted it. Now, Mr.
+Kid, do you think it's right to leave me out so long on a husk diet?
+What's the trouble? Don't you get your filial eyes on anything
+that looks like cash in the Casa Blanca? Don't tell me you don't.
+Everybody knows where old Urique keeps his stuff. It's U.S.
+currency, too; he don't accept anything else. What's doing? Don't
+say 'nothing' this time."
+
+"Why, sure," said the Kid, admiring his diamond, "there's plenty of
+money up there. I'm no judge of collateral in bunches, but I will
+undertake for to say that I've seen the rise of $50,000 at a time in
+that tin grub box that my adopted father calls his safe. And he lets
+me carry the key sometimes just to show me that he knows I'm the
+real little Francisco that strayed from the herd a long time ago."
+
+"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Thacker, angrily. "Don't you
+forget that I can upset your apple-cart any day I want to. If old
+Urique knew you were an imposter, what sort of things would happen
+to you? Oh, you don't know this country, Mr. Texas Kid. The laws
+here have got mustard spread between 'em. These people here'd
+stretch you out like a frog that had been stepped on, and give you
+about fifty sticks at every corner of the plaza. And they'd wear
+every stick out, too. What was left of you they'd feed to
+alligators."
+
+"I might just as well tell you now, pardner," said the Kid, sliding
+down low on his steamer chair, "that things are going to stay just
+as they are. They're about right now."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Thacker, rattling the bottom of his glass
+on his desk.
+
+"The scheme's off," said the Kid. "And whenever you have the
+pleasure of speaking to me address me as Don Francisco Urique. I'll
+guarantee I'll answer to it. We'll let Colonel Urique keep his
+money. His little tin safe is as good as the time-locker in the
+First National Bank of Laredo as far as you and me are concerned."
+
+"You're going to throw me down, then, are you?" said the consul.
+
+"Sure," said the Kid cheerfully. "Throw you down. That's it. And now
+I'll tell you why. The first night I was up at the colonel's house
+they introduced me to a bedroom. No blankets on the floor--a real
+room, with a bed and things in it. And before I was asleep, in comes
+this artificial mother of mine and tucks in the covers. 'Panchito,'
+she says, 'my little lost one, God has brought you back to me. I
+bless His name forever.' It was that, or some truck like that, she
+said. And down comes a drop or two of rain and hits me on the nose.
+And all that stuck by me, Mr. Thacker. And it's been that way ever
+since. And it's got to stay that way. Don't you think that it's for
+what's in it for me, either, that I say so. If you have any such
+ideas, keep 'em to yourself. I haven't had much truck with women in
+my life, and no mothers to speak of, but here's a lady that we've
+got to keep fooled. Once she stood it; twice she won't. I'm a
+low-down wolf, and the devil may have sent me on this trail instead
+of God, but I'll travel it to the end. And now, don't forget that
+I'm Don Francisco Urique whenever you happen to mention my name."
+
+"I'll expose you to-day, you--you double-dyed traitor," stammered
+Thacker.
+
+The Kid arose and, without violence, took Thacker by the throat with
+a hand of steel, and shoved him slowly into a corner. Then he drew
+from under his left arm his pearl-handled .45 and poked the cold
+muzzle of it against the consul's mouth.
+
+"I told you why I come here," he said, with his old freezing smile.
+"If I leave here, you'll be the reason. Never forget it, pardner.
+Now, what is my name?"
+
+"Er--Don Francisco Urique," gasped Thacker.
+
+From outside came a sound of wheels, and the shouting of some one,
+and the sharp thwacks of a wooden whipstock upon the backs of fat
+horses.
+
+The Kid put up his gun, and walked toward the door. But he turned
+again and came back to the trembling Thacker, and held up his left
+hand with its back toward the consul.
+
+"There's one more reason," he said slowly, "why things have got to
+stand as they are. The fellow I killed in Laredo had one of them
+same pictures on his left hand."
+
+Outside, the ancient landau of Don Santos Urique rattled to the
+door. The coachman ceased his bellowing. Senora Urique, in a
+voluminous gay gown of white lace and flying ribbons, leaned forward
+with a happy look in her great soft eyes.
+
+"Are you within, dear son?" she called, in the rippling Castilian.
+
+"_Madre mia, yo vengo_ [mother, I come]," answered the young Don
+Francisco Urique.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+THE PASSING OF BLACK EAGLE
+
+
+For some months of a certain year a grim bandit infested the Texas
+border along the Rio Grande. Peculiarly striking to the optic nerve
+was this notorious marauder. His personality secured him the title
+of "Black Eagle, the Terror of the Border." Many fearsome tales are
+on record concerning the doings of him and his followers. Suddenly,
+in the space of a single minute, Black Eagle vanished from earth.
+He was never heard of again. His own band never even guessed the
+mystery of his disappearance. The border ranches and settlements
+feared he would come again to ride and ravage the mesquite flats.
+He never will. It is to disclose the fate of Black Eagle that this
+narrative is written.
+
+The initial movement of the story is furnished by the foot of a
+bartender in St. Louis. His discerning eye fell upon the form
+of Chicken Ruggles as he pecked with avidity at the free lunch.
+Chicken was a "hobo." He had a long nose like the bill of a fowl,
+an inordinate appetite for poultry, and a habit of gratifying it
+without expense, which accounts for the name given him by his fellow
+vagrants.
+
+Physicians agree that the partaking of liquids at meal times is
+not a healthy practice. The hygiene of the saloon promulgates the
+opposite. Chicken had neglected to purchase a drink to accompany
+his meal. The bartender rounded the counter, caught the injudicious
+diner by the ear with a lemon squeezer, led him to the door and
+kicked him into the street.
+
+Thus the mind of Chicken was brought to realize the signs of
+coming winter. The night was cold; the stars shone with unkindly
+brilliancy; people were hurrying along the streets in two egotistic,
+jostling streams. Men had donned their overcoats, and Chicken knew
+to an exact percentage the increased difficulty of coaxing dimes
+from those buttoned-in vest pockets. The time had come for his
+annual exodus to the south.
+
+A little boy, five or six years old, stood looking with covetous
+eyes in a confectioner's window. In one small hand he held an empty
+two-ounce vial; in the other he grasped tightly something flat and
+round, with a shining milled edge. The scene presented a field of
+operations commensurate to Chicken's talents and daring. After
+sweeping the horizon to make sure that no official tug was cruising
+near, he insidiously accosted his prey. The boy, having been early
+taught by his household to regard altruistic advances with extreme
+suspicion, received the overtures coldly.
+
+Then Chicken knew that he must make one of those desperate,
+nerve-shattering plunges into speculation that fortune sometimes
+requires of those who would win her favour. Five cents was his
+capital, and this he must risk against the chance of winning what
+lay within the close grasp of the youngster's chubby hand. It was
+a fearful lottery, Chicken knew. But he must accomplish his end by
+strategy, since he had a wholesome terror of plundering infants
+by force. Once, in a park, driven by hunger, he had committed
+an onslaught upon a bottle of peptonized infant's food in the
+possession of an occupant of a baby carriage. The outraged infant
+had so promptly opened its mouth and pressed the button that
+communicated with the welkin that help arrived, and Chicken did his
+thirty days in a snug coop. Wherefore he was, as he said, "leary of
+kids."
+
+Beginning artfully to question the boy concerning his choice of
+sweets, he gradually drew out the information he wanted. Mamma said
+he was to ask the drug store man for ten cents' worth of paregoric
+in the bottle; he was to keep his hand shut tight over the dollar;
+he must not stop to talk to anyone in the street; he must ask the
+drug-store man to wrap up the change and put it in the pocket of
+his trousers. Indeed, they had pockets--two of them! And he liked
+chocolate creams best.
+
+Chicken went into the store and turned plunger. He invested his
+entire capital in C.A.N.D.Y. stocks, simply to pave the way to the
+greater risk following.
+
+He gave the sweets to the youngster, and had the satisfaction of
+perceiving that confidence was established. After that it was easy
+to obtain leadership of the expedition; to take the investment by
+the hand and lead it to a nice drug store he knew of in the same
+block. There Chicken, with a parental air, passed over the dollar
+and called for the medicine, while the boy crunched his candy, glad
+to be relieved of the responsibility of the purchase. And then
+the successful investor, searching his pockets, found an overcoat
+button--the extent of his winter trousseau--and, wrapping it
+carefully, placed the ostensible change in the pocket of confiding
+juvenility. Setting the youngster's face homeward, and patting him
+benevolently on the back--for Chicken's heart was as soft as those
+of his feathered namesakes--the speculator quit the market with a
+profit of 1,700 per cent. on his invested capital.
+
+Two hours later an Iron Mountain freight engine pulled out of the
+railroad yards, Texas bound, with a string of empties. In one of the
+cattle cars, half buried in excelsior, Chicken lay at ease. Beside
+him in his nest was a quart bottle of very poor whisky and a paper
+bag of bread and cheese. Mr. Ruggles, in his private car, was on his
+trip south for the winter season.
+
+For a week that car was trundled southward, shifted, laid over, and
+manipulated after the manner of rolling stock, but Chicken stuck
+to it, leaving it only at necessary times to satisfy his hunger
+and thirst. He knew it must go down to the cattle country, and
+San Antonio, in the heart of it, was his goal. There the air was
+salubrious and mild; the people indulgent and long-suffering. The
+bartenders there would not kick him. If he should eat too long or
+too often at one place they would swear at him as if by rote and
+without heat. They swore so drawlingly, and they rarely paused short
+of their full vocabulary, which was copious, so that Chicken had
+often gulped a good meal during the process of the vituperative
+prohibition. The season there was always spring-like; the plazas
+were pleasant at night, with music and gaiety; except during the
+slight and infrequent cold snaps one could sleep comfortably out of
+doors in case the interiors should develop inhospitability.
+
+At Texarkana his car was switched to the I. and G. N. Then still
+southward it trailed until, at length, it crawled across the
+Colorado bridge at Austin, and lined out, straight as an arrow, for
+the run to San Antonio.
+
+When the freight halted at that town Chicken was fast asleep. In ten
+minutes the train was off again for Laredo, the end of the road.
+Those empty cattle cars were for distribution along the line at
+points from which the ranches shipped their stock.
+
+When Chicken awoke his car was stationary. Looking out between the
+slats he saw it was a bright, moonlit night. Scrambling out, he saw
+his car with three others abandoned on a little siding in a wild
+and lonesome country. A cattle pen and chute stood on one side of
+the track. The railroad bisected a vast, dim ocean of prairie, in
+the midst of which Chicken, with his futile rolling stock, was as
+completely stranded as was Robinson with his land-locked boat.
+
+A white post stood near the rails. Going up to it, Chicken read the
+letters at the top, S. A. 90. Laredo was nearly as far to the south.
+He was almost a hundred miles from any town. Coyotes began to yelp
+in the mysterious sea around him. Chicken felt lonesome. He had
+lived in Boston without an education, in Chicago without nerve, in
+Philadelphia without a sleeping place, in New York without a pull,
+and in Pittsburg sober, and yet he had never felt so lonely as now.
+
+Suddenly through the intense silence, he heard the whicker of a
+horse. The sound came from the side of the track toward the east,
+and Chicken began to explore timorously in that direction. He
+stepped high along the mat of curly mesquit grass, for he was afraid
+of everything there might be in this wilderness--snakes, rats,
+brigands, centipedes, mirages, cowboys, fandangoes, tarantulas,
+tamales--he had read of them in the story papers. Rounding a clump
+of prickly pear that reared high its fantastic and menacing array of
+rounded heads, he was struck to shivering terror by a snort and a
+thunderous plunge, as the horse, himself startled, bounded away some
+fifty yards, and then resumed his grazing. But here was the one
+thing in the desert that Chicken did not fear. He had been reared on
+a farm; he had handled horses, understood them, and could ride.
+
+Approaching slowly and speaking soothingly, he followed the animal,
+which, after its first flight, seemed gentle enough, and secured the
+end of the twenty-foot lariat that dragged after him in the grass.
+It required him but a few moments to contrive the rope into an
+ingenious nose-bridle, after the style of the Mexican _borsal_. In
+another he was upon the horse's back and off at a splendid lope,
+giving the animal free choice of direction. "He will take me
+somewhere," said Chicken to himself.
+
+It would have been a thing of joy, that untrammelled gallop over the
+moonlit prairie, even to Chicken, who loathed exertion, but that his
+mood was not for it. His head ached; a growing thirst was upon him;
+the "somewhere" whither his lucky mount might convey him was full of
+dismal peradventure.
+
+And now he noted that the horse moved to a definite goal. Where the
+prairie lay smooth he kept his course straight as an arrow's toward
+the east. Deflected by hill or arroyo or impractical spinous brakes,
+he quickly flowed again into the current, charted by his unerring
+instinct. At last, upon the side of a gentle rise, he suddenly
+subsided to a complacent walk. A stone's cast away stood a little
+mott of coma trees; beneath it a _jacal_ such as the Mexicans
+erect--a one-room house of upright poles daubed with clay and roofed
+with grass or tule reeds. An experienced eye would have estimated
+the spot as the headquarters of a small sheep ranch. In the
+moonlight the ground in the nearby corral showed pulverized to
+a level smoothness by the hoofs of the sheep. Everywhere was
+carelessly distributed the paraphernalia of the place--ropes,
+bridles, saddles, sheep pelts, wool sacks, feed troughs, and camp
+litter. The barrel of drinking water stood in the end of the
+two-horse wagon near the door. The harness was piled, promiscuous,
+upon the wagon tongue, soaking up the dew.
+
+Chicken slipped to earth, and tied the horse to a tree. He halloed
+again and again, but the house remained quiet. The door stood open,
+and he entered cautiously. The light was sufficient for him to see
+that no one was at home. The room was that of a bachelor ranchman
+who was content with the necessaries of life. Chicken rummaged
+intelligently until he found what he had hardly dared hope for--a
+small, brown jug that still contained something near a quart of his
+desire.
+
+Half an hour later, Chicken--now a gamecock of hostile
+aspect--emerged from the house with unsteady steps. He had drawn
+upon the absent ranchman's equipment to replace his own ragged
+attire. He wore a suit of coarse brown ducking, the coat being a
+sort of rakish bolero, jaunty to a degree. Boots he had donned, and
+spurs that whirred with every lurching step. Buckled around him was
+a belt full of cartridges with a big six-shooter in each of its two
+holsters.
+
+Prowling about, he found blankets, a saddle and bridle with which he
+caparisoned his steed. Again mounting, he rode swiftly away, singing
+a loud and tuneless song.
+
+
+
+Bud King's band of desperadoes, outlaws and horse and cattle thieves
+were in camp at a secluded spot on the bank of the Frio. Their
+depredations in the Rio Grande country, while no bolder than usual,
+had been advertised more extensively, and Captain Kinney's company
+of rangers had been ordered down to look after them. Consequently,
+Bud King, who was a wise general, instead of cutting out a hot trail
+for the upholders of the law, as his men wished to do, retired for
+the time to the prickly fastnesses of the Frio valley.
+
+Though the move was a prudent one, and not incompatible with Bud's
+well-known courage, it raised dissension among the members of the
+band. In fact, while they thus lay ingloriously _perdu_ in the
+brush, the question of Bud King's fitness for the leadership was
+argued, with closed doors, as it were, by his followers. Never
+before had Bud's skill or efficiency been brought to criticism; but
+his glory was waning (and such is glory's fate) in the light of a
+newer star. The sentiment of the band was crystallizing into the
+opinion that Black Eagle could lead them with more lustre, profit,
+and distinction.
+
+This Black Eagle--sub-titled the "Terror of the Border"--had been a
+member of the gang about three months.
+
+One night while they were in camp on the San Miguel water-hole a
+solitary horseman on the regulation fiery steed dashed in among
+them. The newcomer was of a portentous and devastating aspect. A
+beak-like nose with a predatory curve projected above a mass of
+bristling, blue-black whiskers. His eye was cavernous and fierce.
+He was spurred, sombreroed, booted, garnished with revolvers,
+abundantly drunk, and very much unafraid. Few people in the country
+drained by the Rio Bravo would have cared thus to invade alone the
+camp of Bud King. But this fell bird swooped fearlessly upon them
+and demanded to be fed.
+
+Hospitality in the prairie country is not limited. Even if your
+enemy pass your way you must feed him before you shoot him. You
+must empty your larder into him before you empty your lead. So the
+stranger of undeclared intentions was set down to a mighty feast.
+
+A talkative bird he was, full of most marvellous loud tales and
+exploits, and speaking a language at times obscure but never
+colourless. He was a new sensation to Bud King's men, who rarely
+encountered new types. They hung, delighted, upon his vainglorious
+boasting, the spicy strangeness of his lingo, his contemptuous
+familiarity with life, the world, and remote places, and the
+extravagant frankness with which he conveyed his sentiments.
+
+To their guest the band of outlaws seemed to be nothing more than a
+congregation of country bumpkins whom he was "stringing for grub"
+just as he would have told his stories at the back door of a
+farmhouse to wheedle a meal. And, indeed, his ignorance was not
+without excuse, for the "bad man" of the Southwest does not run to
+extremes. Those brigands might justly have been taken for a little
+party of peaceable rustics assembled for a fish-fry or pecan
+gathering. Gentle of manner, slouching of gait, soft-voiced,
+unpicturesquely clothed; not one of them presented to the eye any
+witness of the desperate records they had earned.
+
+For two days the glittering stranger within the camp was feasted.
+Then, by common consent, he was invited to become a member of the
+band. He consented, presenting for enrollment the prodigious name
+of "Captain Montressor." This name was immediately overruled by the
+band, and "Piggy" substituted as a compliment to the awful and
+insatiate appetite of its owner.
+
+Thus did the Texas border receive the most spectacular brigand that
+ever rode its chaparral.
+
+For the next three months Bud King conducted business as usual,
+escaping encounters with law officers and being content with
+reasonable profits. The band ran off some very good companies of
+horses from the ranges, and a few bunches of fine cattle which they
+got safely across the Rio Grande and disposed of to fair advantage.
+Often the band would ride into the little villages and Mexican
+settlements, terrorizing the inhabitants and plundering for the
+provisions and ammunition they needed. It was during these bloodless
+raids that Piggy's ferocious aspect and frightful voice gained him a
+renown more widespread and glorious than those other gentle-voiced
+and sad-faced desperadoes could have acquired in a lifetime.
+
+The Mexicans, most apt in nomenclature, first called him The Black
+Eagle, and used to frighten the babes by threatening them with tales
+of the dreadful robber who carried off little children in his great
+beak. Soon the name extended, and Black Eagle, the Terror of the
+Border, became a recognized factor in exaggerated newspaper reports
+and ranch gossip.
+
+The country from the Nueces to the Rio Grande was a wild but fertile
+stretch, given over to the sheep and cattle ranches. Range was free;
+the inhabitants were few; the law was mainly a letter, and the
+pirates met with little opposition until the flaunting and garish
+Piggy gave the band undue advertisement. Then Kinney's ranger
+company headed for those precincts, and Bud King knew that it meant
+grim and sudden war or else temporary retirement. Regarding the risk
+to be unnecessary, he drew off his band to an almost inaccessible
+spot on the bank of the Frio. Wherefore, as has been said,
+dissatisfaction arose among the members, and impeachment proceedings
+against Bud were premeditated, with Black Eagle in high favour for
+the succession. Bud King was not unaware of the sentiment, and he
+called aside Cactus Taylor, his trusted lieutenant, to discuss it.
+
+"If the boys," said Bud, "ain't satisfied with me, I'm willing
+to step out. They're buckin' against my way of handlin' 'em. And
+'specially because I concludes to hit the brush while Sam Kinney is
+ridin' the line. I saves 'em from bein' shot or sent up on a state
+contract, and they up and says I'm no good."
+
+"It ain't so much that," explained Cactus, "as it is they're plum
+locoed about Piggy. They want them whiskers and that nose of his to
+split the wind at the head of the column."
+
+"There's somethin' mighty seldom about Piggy," declared Bud,
+musingly. "I never yet see anything on the hoof that he exactly
+grades up with. He can shore holler a plenty, and he straddles a
+hoss from where you laid the chunk. But he ain't never been smoked
+yet. You know, Cactus, we ain't had a row since he's been with us.
+Piggy's all right for skearin' the greaser kids and layin' waste a
+cross-roads store. I reckon he's the finest canned oyster buccaneer
+and cheese pirate that ever was, but how's his appetite for
+fightin'? I've knowed some citizens you'd think was starvin' for
+trouble get a bad case of dyspepsy the first dose of lead they had
+to take."
+
+"He talks all spraddled out," said Cactus, "'bout the rookuses he's
+been in. He claims to have saw the elephant and hearn the owl."
+
+"I know," replied Bud, using the cowpuncher's expressive phrase of
+skepticism, "but it sounds to me!"
+
+This conversation was held one night in camp while the other members
+of the band--eight in number--were sprawling around the fire,
+lingering over their supper. When Bud and Cactus ceased talking they
+heard Piggy's formidable voice holding forth to the others as usual
+while he was engaged in checking, though never satisfying, his
+ravening appetite.
+
+"Wat's de use," he was saying, "of chasin' little red cowses and
+hosses 'round for t'ousands of miles? Dere ain't nuttin' in it.
+Gallopin' t'rough dese bushes and briers, and gettin' a t'irst dat a
+brewery couldn't put out, and missin' meals! Say! You know what I'd
+do if I was main finger of dis bunch? I'd stick up a train. I'd blow
+de express car and make hard dollars where you guys get wind. Youse
+makes me tired. Dis sook-cow kind of cheap sport gives me a pain."
+
+Later on, a deputation waited on Bud. They stood on one leg,
+chewed mesquit twigs and circumlocuted, for they hated to hurt his
+feelings. Bud foresaw their business, and made it easy for them.
+Bigger risks and larger profits was what they wanted.
+
+The suggestion of Piggy's about holding up a train had fired their
+imagination and increased their admiration for the dash and boldness
+of the instigator. They were such simple, artless, and custom-bound
+bush-rangers that they had never before thought of extending their
+habits beyond the running off of live-stock and the shooting of such
+of their acquaintances as ventured to interfere.
+
+Bud acted "on the level," agreeing to take a subordinate place in
+the gang until Black Eagle should have been given a trial as leader.
+
+After a great deal of consultation, studying of time-tables, and
+discussion of the country's topography, the time and place for
+carrying out their new enterprise was decided upon. At that
+time there was a feedstuff famine in Mexico and a cattle famine
+in certain parts of the United States, and there was a brisk
+international trade. Much money was being shipped along the
+railroads that connected the two republics. It was agreed that the
+most promising place for the contemplated robbery was at Espina,
+a little station on the I. and G. N., about forty miles north of
+Laredo. The train stopped there one minute; the country around was
+wild and unsettled; the station consisted of but one house in which
+the agent lived.
+
+Black Eagle's band set out, riding by night. Arriving in the
+vicinity of Espina they rested their horses all day in a thicket a
+few miles distant.
+
+The train was due at Espina at 10.30 P.M. They could rob the train
+and be well over the Mexican border with their booty by daylight the
+next morning.
+
+To do Black Eagle justice, he exhibited no signs of flinching from
+the responsible honours that had been conferred upon him.
+
+He assigned his men to their respective posts with discretion, and
+coached them carefully as to their duties. On each side of the track
+four of the band were to lie concealed in the chaparral. Gotch-Ear
+Rodgers was to stick up the station agent. Bronco Charlie was to
+remain with the horses, holding them in readiness. At a spot where
+it was calculated the engine would be when the train stopped, Bud
+King was to lie hidden on one side, and Black Eagle himself on the
+other. The two would get the drop on the engineer and fireman, force
+them to descend and proceed to the rear. Then the express car would
+be looted, and the escape made. No one was to move until Black Eagle
+gave the signal by firing his revolver. The plan was perfect.
+
+At ten minutes to train time every man was at his post, effectually
+concealed by the thick chaparral that grew almost to the rails.
+The night was dark and lowering, with a fine drizzle falling from
+the flying gulf clouds. Black Eagle crouched behind a bush within
+five yards of the track. Two six-shooters were belted around him.
+Occasionally he drew a large black bottle from his pocket and raised
+it to his mouth.
+
+A star appeared far down the track which soon waxed into the
+headlight of the approaching train. It came on with an increasing
+roar; the engine bore down upon the ambushing desperadoes with a
+glare and a shriek like some avenging monster come to deliver them
+to justice. Black Eagle flattened himself upon the ground. The
+engine, contrary to their calculations, instead of stopping between
+him and Bud King's place of concealment, passed fully forty yards
+farther before it came to a stand.
+
+The bandit leader rose to his feet and peered through the bush. His
+men all lay quiet, awaiting the signal. Immediately opposite Black
+Eagle was a thing that drew his attention. Instead of being a
+regular passenger train it was a mixed one. Before him stood a box
+car, the door of which, by some means, had been left slightly open.
+Black Eagle went up to it and pushed the door farther open. An odour
+came forth--a damp, rancid, familiar, musty, intoxicating, beloved
+odour stirring strongly at old memories of happy days and travels.
+Black Eagle sniffed at the witching smell as the returned wanderer
+smells of the rose that twines his boyhood's cottage home. Nostalgia
+seized him. He put his hand inside. Excelsior--dry, springy, curly,
+soft, enticing, covered the floor. Outside the drizzle had turned to
+a chilling rain.
+
+The train bell clanged. The bandit chief unbuckled his belt and cast
+it, with its revolvers, upon the ground. His spurs followed quickly,
+and his broad sombrero. Black Eagle was moulting. The train started
+with a rattling jerk. The ex-Terror of the Border scrambled into
+the box car and closed the door. Stretched luxuriously upon the
+excelsior, with the black bottle clasped closely to his breast, his
+eyes closed, and a foolish, happy smile upon his terrible features
+Chicken Ruggles started upon his return trip.
+
+Undisturbed, with the band of desperate bandits lying motionless,
+awaiting the signal to attack, the train pulled out from Espina. As
+its speed increased, and the black masses of chaparral went whizzing
+past on either side, the express messenger, lighting his pipe,
+looked through his window and remarked, feelingly:
+
+"What a jim-dandy place for a hold-up!"
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+A RETRIEVED REFORMATION
+
+
+A guard came to the prison shoe-shop, where Jimmy Valentine was
+assiduously stitching uppers, and escorted him to the front office.
+There the warden handed Jimmy his pardon, which had been signed
+that morning by the governor. Jimmy took it in a tired kind of way.
+He had served nearly ten months of a four year sentence. He had
+expected to stay only about three months, at the longest. When a
+man with as many friends on the outside as Jimmy Valentine had is
+received in the "stir" it is hardly worth while to cut his hair.
+
+"Now, Valentine," said the warden, "you'll go out in the morning.
+Brace up, and make a man of yourself. You're not a bad fellow at
+heart. Stop cracking safes, and live straight."
+
+"Me?" said Jimmy, in surprise. "Why, I never cracked a safe in my
+life."
+
+"Oh, no," laughed the warden. "Of course not. Let's see, now. How
+was it you happened to get sent up on that Springfield job? Was
+it because you wouldn't prove an alibi for fear of compromising
+somebody in extremely high-toned society? Or was it simply a case of
+a mean old jury that had it in for you? It's always one or the other
+with you innocent victims."
+
+"Me?" said Jimmy, still blankly virtuous. "Why, warden, I never was
+in Springfield in my life!"
+
+"Take him back, Cronin!" said the warden, "and fix him up with
+outgoing clothes. Unlock him at seven in the morning, and let him
+come to the bull-pen. Better think over my advice, Valentine."
+
+At a quarter past seven on the next morning Jimmy stood in the
+warden's outer office. He had on a suit of the villainously fitting,
+ready-made clothes and a pair of the stiff, squeaky shoes that the
+state furnishes to its discharged compulsory guests.
+
+The clerk handed him a railroad ticket and the five-dollar bill
+with which the law expected him to rehabilitate himself into good
+citizenship and prosperity. The warden gave him a cigar, and shook
+hands. Valentine, 9762, was chronicled on the books, "Pardoned by
+Governor," and Mr. James Valentine walked out into the sunshine.
+
+Disregarding the song of the birds, the waving green trees, and
+the smell of the flowers, Jimmy headed straight for a restaurant.
+There he tasted the first sweet joys of liberty in the shape of a
+broiled chicken and a bottle of white wine--followed by a cigar a
+grade better than the one the warden had given him. From there he
+proceeded leisurely to the depot. He tossed a quarter into the hat
+of a blind man sitting by the door, and boarded his train. Three
+hours set him down in a little town near the state line. He went to
+the cafe of one Mike Dolan and shook hands with Mike, who was alone
+behind the bar.
+
+"Sorry we couldn't make it sooner, Jimmy, me boy," said Mike. "But
+we had that protest from Springfield to buck against, and the
+governor nearly balked. Feeling all right?"
+
+"Fine," said Jimmy. "Got my key?"
+
+He got his key and went upstairs, unlocking the door of a room at
+the rear. Everything was just as he had left it. There on the floor
+was still Ben Price's collar-button that had been torn from that
+eminent detective's shirt-band when they had overpowered Jimmy to
+arrest him.
+
+Pulling out from the wall a folding-bed, Jimmy slid back a panel in
+the wall and dragged out a dust-covered suit-case. He opened this
+and gazed fondly at the finest set of burglar's tools in the East.
+It was a complete set, made of specially tempered steel, the latest
+designs in drills, punches, braces and bits, jimmies, clamps, and
+augers, with two or three novelties, invented by Jimmy himself, in
+which he took pride. Over nine hundred dollars they had cost him
+to have made at ----, a place where they make such things for the
+profession.
+
+In half an hour Jimmy went down stairs and through the cafe. He was
+now dressed in tasteful and well-fitting clothes, and carried his
+dusted and cleaned suit-case in his hand.
+
+"Got anything on?" asked Mike Dolan, genially.
+
+"Me?" said Jimmy, in a puzzled tone. "I don't understand. I'm
+representing the New York Amalgamated Short Snap Biscuit Cracker and
+Frazzled Wheat Company."
+
+This statement delighted Mike to such an extent that Jimmy had to
+take a seltzer-and-milk on the spot. He never touched "hard" drinks.
+
+A week after the release of Valentine, 9762, there was a neat job of
+safe-burglary done in Richmond, Indiana, with no clue to the author.
+A scant eight hundred dollars was all that was secured. Two weeks
+after that a patented, improved, burglar-proof safe in Logansport
+was opened like a cheese to the tune of fifteen hundred dollars,
+currency; securities and silver untouched. That began to interest
+the rogue-catchers. Then an old-fashioned bank-safe in Jefferson
+City became active and threw out of its crater an eruption of
+bank-notes amounting to five thousand dollars. The losses were now
+high enough to bring the matter up into Ben Price's class of work.
+By comparing notes, a remarkable similarity in the methods of the
+burglaries was noticed. Ben Price investigated the scenes of the
+robberies, and was heard to remark:
+
+"That's Dandy Jim Valentine's autograph. He's resumed business. Look
+at that combination knob--jerked out as easy as pulling up a radish
+in wet weather. He's got the only clamps that can do it. And look
+how clean those tumblers were punched out! Jimmy never has to drill
+but one hole. Yes, I guess I want Mr. Valentine. He'll do his bit
+next time without any short-time or clemency foolishness."
+
+Ben Price knew Jimmy's habits. He had learned them while working up
+the Springfield case. Long jumps, quick get-aways, no confederates,
+and a taste for good society--these ways had helped Mr. Valentine to
+become noted as a successful dodger of retribution. It was given out
+that Ben Price had taken up the trail of the elusive cracksman, and
+other people with burglar-proof safes felt more at ease.
+
+One afternoon Jimmy Valentine and his suit-case climbed out of the
+mail-hack in Elmore, a little town five miles off the railroad
+down in the black-jack country of Arkansas. Jimmy, looking like an
+athletic young senior just home from college, went down the board
+side-walk toward the hotel.
+
+A young lady crossed the street, passed him at the corner and
+entered a door over which was the sign, "The Elmore Bank." Jimmy
+Valentine looked into her eyes, forgot what he was, and became
+another man. She lowered her eyes and coloured slightly. Young men
+of Jimmy's style and looks were scarce in Elmore.
+
+Jimmy collared a boy that was loafing on the steps of the bank as
+if he were one of the stockholders, and began to ask him questions
+about the town, feeding him dimes at intervals. By and by the young
+lady came out, looking royally unconscious of the young man with the
+suit-case, and went her way.
+
+"Isn't that young lady Polly Simpson?" asked Jimmy, with specious
+guile.
+
+"Naw," said the boy. "She's Annabel Adams. Her pa owns this bank.
+What'd you come to Elmore for? Is that a gold watch-chain? I'm going
+to get a bulldog. Got any more dimes?"
+
+Jimmy went to the Planters' Hotel, registered as Ralph D. Spencer,
+and engaged a room. He leaned on the desk and declared his platform
+to the clerk. He said he had come to Elmore to look for a location
+to go into business. How was the shoe business, now, in the town? He
+had thought of the shoe business. Was there an opening?
+
+The clerk was impressed by the clothes and manner of Jimmy. He,
+himself, was something of a pattern of fashion to the thinly gilded
+youth of Elmore, but he now perceived his shortcomings. While trying
+to figure out Jimmy's manner of tying his four-in-hand he cordially
+gave information.
+
+Yes, there ought to be a good opening in the shoe line. There wasn't
+an exclusive shoe-store in the place. The dry-goods and general
+stores handled them. Business in all lines was fairly good. Hoped
+Mr. Spencer would decide to locate in Elmore. He would find it a
+pleasant town to live in, and the people very sociable.
+
+Mr. Spencer thought he would stop over in the town a few days and
+look over the situation. No, the clerk needn't call the boy. He
+would carry up his suit-case, himself; it was rather heavy.
+
+Mr. Ralph Spencer, the phoenix that arose from Jimmy Valentine's
+ashes--ashes left by the flame of a sudden and alterative attack of
+love--remained in Elmore, and prospered. He opened a shoe-store and
+secured a good run of trade.
+
+Socially he was also a success, and made many friends. And he
+accomplished the wish of his heart. He met Miss Annabel Adams, and
+became more and more captivated by her charms.
+
+At the end of a year the situation of Mr. Ralph Spencer was this:
+he had won the respect of the community, his shoe-store was
+flourishing, and he and Annabel were engaged to be married in two
+weeks. Mr. Adams, the typical, plodding, country banker, approved of
+Spencer. Annabel's pride in him almost equalled her affection. He
+was as much at home in the family of Mr. Adams and that of Annabel's
+married sister as if he were already a member.
+
+One day Jimmy sat down in his room and wrote this letter, which he
+mailed to the safe address of one of his old friends in St. Louis:
+
+
+   DEAR OLD PAL:
+
+   I want you to be at Sullivan's place, in Little Rock, next
+   Wednesday night, at nine o'clock. I want you to wind up
+   some little matters for me. And, also, I want to make you
+   a present of my kit of tools. I know you'll be glad to get
+   them--you couldn't duplicate the lot for a thousand dollars.
+   Say, Billy, I've quit the old business--a year ago. I've got
+   a nice store. I'm making an honest living, and I'm going
+   to marry the finest girl on earth two weeks from now. It's
+   the only life, Billy--the straight one. I wouldn't touch a
+   dollar of another man's money now for a million. After I get
+   married I'm going to sell out and go West, where there won't
+   be so much danger of having old scores brought up against
+   me. I tell you, Billy, she's an angel. She believes in me;
+   and I wouldn't do another crooked thing for the whole world.
+   Be sure to be at Sully's, for I must see you. I'll bring
+   along the tools with me.
+
+   Your old friend,
+
+   JIMMY.
+
+
+On the Monday night after Jimmy wrote this letter, Ben Price jogged
+unobtrusively into Elmore in a livery buggy. He lounged about town
+in his quiet way until he found out what he wanted to know. From the
+drug-store across the street from Spencer's shoe-store he got a good
+look at Ralph D. Spencer.
+
+"Going to marry the banker's daughter are you, Jimmy?" said Ben to
+himself, softly. "Well, I don't know!"
+
+The next morning Jimmy took breakfast at the Adamses. He was going
+to Little Rock that day to order his wedding-suit and buy something
+nice for Annabel. That would be the first time he had left town
+since he came to Elmore. It had been more than a year now since
+those last professional "jobs," and he thought he could safely
+venture out.
+
+After breakfast quite a family party went downtown together--Mr.
+Adams, Annabel, Jimmy, and Annabel's married sister with her two
+little girls, aged five and nine. They came by the hotel where Jimmy
+still boarded, and he ran up to his room and brought along his
+suit-case. Then they went on to the bank. There stood Jimmy's horse
+and buggy and Dolph Gibson, who was going to drive him over to the
+railroad station.
+
+All went inside the high, carved oak railings into the
+banking-room--Jimmy included, for Mr. Adams's future son-in-law
+was welcome anywhere. The clerks were pleased to be greeted by
+the good-looking, agreeable young man who was going to marry Miss
+Annabel. Jimmy set his suit-case down. Annabel, whose heart was
+bubbling with happiness and lively youth, put on Jimmy's hat, and
+picked up the suit-case. "Wouldn't I make a nice drummer?" said
+Annabel. "My! Ralph, how heavy it is? Feels like it was full of gold
+bricks."
+
+"Lot of nickel-plated shoe-horns in there," said Jimmy, coolly,
+"that I'm going to return. Thought I'd save express charges by
+taking them up. I'm getting awfully economical."
+
+The Elmore Bank had just put in a new safe and vault. Mr. Adams was
+very proud of it, and insisted on an inspection by every one. The
+vault was a small one, but it had a new, patented door. It fastened
+with three solid steel bolts thrown simultaneously with a single
+handle, and had a time-lock. Mr. Adams beamingly explained its
+workings to Mr. Spencer, who showed a courteous but not too
+intelligent interest. The two children, May and Agatha, were
+delighted by the shining metal and funny clock and knobs.
+
+While they were thus engaged Ben Price sauntered in and leaned on
+his elbow, looking casually inside between the railings. He told the
+teller that he didn't want anything; he was just waiting for a man
+he knew.
+
+Suddenly there was a scream or two from the women, and a commotion.
+Unperceived by the elders, May, the nine-year-old girl, in a spirit
+of play, had shut Agatha in the vault. She had then shot the bolts
+and turned the knob of the combination as she had seen Mr. Adams do.
+
+The old banker sprang to the handle and tugged at it for a moment.
+"The door can't be opened," he groaned. "The clock hasn't been wound
+nor the combination set."
+
+Agatha's mother screamed again, hysterically.
+
+"Hush!" said Mr. Adams, raising his trembling hand. "All be quite
+for a moment. Agatha!" he called as loudly as he could. "Listen to
+me." During the following silence they could just hear the faint
+sound of the child wildly shrieking in the dark vault in a panic of
+terror.
+
+"My precious darling!" wailed the mother. "She will die of fright!
+Open the door! Oh, break it open! Can't you men do something?"
+
+"There isn't a man nearer than Little Rock who can open that door,"
+said Mr. Adams, in a shaky voice. "My God! Spencer, what shall we
+do? That child--she can't stand it long in there. There isn't enough
+air, and, besides, she'll go into convulsions from fright."
+
+Agatha's mother, frantic now, beat the door of the vault with her
+hands. Somebody wildly suggested dynamite. Annabel turned to Jimmy,
+her large eyes full of anguish, but not yet despairing. To a
+woman nothing seems quite impossible to the powers of the man she
+worships.
+
+"Can't you do something, Ralph--_try_, won't you?"
+
+He looked at her with a queer, soft smile on his lips and in his
+keen eyes.
+
+"Annabel," he said, "give me that rose you are wearing, will you?"
+
+Hardly believing that she heard him aright, she unpinned the bud
+from the bosom of her dress, and placed it in his hand. Jimmy
+stuffed it into his vest-pocket, threw off his coat and pulled up
+his shirt-sleeves. With that act Ralph D. Spencer passed away and
+Jimmy Valentine took his place.
+
+"Get away from the door, all of you," he commanded, shortly.
+
+He set his suit-case on the table, and opened it out flat. From that
+time on he seemed to be unconscious of the presence of any one else.
+He laid out the shining, queer implements swiftly and orderly,
+whistling softly to himself as he always did when at work. In a deep
+silence and immovable, the others watched him as if under a spell.
+
+In a minute Jimmy's pet drill was biting smoothly into the steel
+door. In ten minutes--breaking his own burglarious record--he threw
+back the bolts and opened the door.
+
+Agatha, almost collapsed, but safe, was gathered into her mother's
+arms.
+
+Jimmy Valentine put on his coat, and walked outside the railings
+towards the front door. As he went he thought he heard a far-away
+voice that he once knew call "Ralph!" But he never hesitated.
+
+At the door a big man stood somewhat in his way.
+
+"Hello, Ben!" said Jimmy, still with his strange smile. "Got around
+at last, have you? Well, let's go. I don't know that it makes much
+difference, now."
+
+And then Ben Price acted rather strangely.
+
+"Guess you're mistaken, Mr. Spencer," he said. "Don't believe I
+recognize you. Your buggy's waiting for you, ain't it?"
+
+And Ben Price turned and strolled down the street.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+CHERCHEZ LA FEMME
+
+
+Robbins, reporter for the _Picayune_, and Dumars, of
+_L'Abeille_--the old French newspaper that has buzzed for nearly a
+century--were good friends, well proven by years of ups and downs
+together. They were seated where they had a habit of meeting--in the
+little, Creole-haunted cafe of Madame Tibault, in Dumaine Street.
+If you know the place, you will experience a thrill of pleasure in
+recalling it to mind. It is small and dark, with six little polished
+tables, at which you may sit and drink the best coffee in New
+Orleans, and concoctions of absinthe equal to Sazerac's best. Madame
+Tibault, fat and indulgent, presides at the desk, and takes your
+money. Nicolette and Meme, madame's nieces, in charming bib aprons,
+bring the desirable beverages.
+
+Dumars, with true Creole luxury, was sipping his absinthe, with
+half-closed eyes, in a swirl of cigarette smoke. Robbins was looking
+over the morning _Pic._, detecting, as young reporters will, the
+gross blunders in the make-up, and the envious blue-pencilling his
+own stuff had received. This item, in the advertising columns,
+caught his eye, and with an exclamation of sudden interest he read
+it aloud to his friend.
+
+
+   Public Auction.--At three o'clock this afternoon there will
+   be sold to the highest bidder all the common property of the
+   Little Sisters of Samaria, at the home of the Sisterhood,
+   in Bonhomme Street. The sale will dispose of the building,
+   ground, and the complete furnishings of the house and chapel,
+   without reserve.
+
+
+This notice stirred the two friends to a reminiscent talk concerning
+an episode in their journalistic career that had occurred about
+two years before. They recalled the incidents, went over the old
+theories, and discussed it anew from the different perspective time
+had brought.
+
+There were no other customers in the cafe. Madame's fine ear had
+caught the line of their talk, and she came over to their table--for
+had it not been her lost money--her vanished twenty thousand
+dollars--that had set the whole matter going?
+
+The three took up the long-abandoned mystery, threshing over the
+old, dry chaff of it. It was in the chapel of this house of the
+Little Sisters of Samaria that Robbins and Dumars had stood during
+that eager, fruitless news search of theirs, and looked upon the
+gilded statue of the Virgin.
+
+"Thass so, boys," said madame, summing up. "Thass ver' wicked man,
+M'sieur Morin. Everybody shall be cert' he steal those money I
+plaze in his hand for keep safe. Yes. He's boun' spend that money,
+somehow." Madame turned a broad and contemplative smile upon Dumars.
+"I ond'stand you, M'sieur Dumars, those day you come ask fo' tell
+ev'ything I know 'bout M'sieur Morin. Ah! yes, I know most time
+when those men lose money you say '_Cherchez la femme_'--there is
+somewhere the woman. But not for M'sieur Morin. No, boys. Before he
+shall die, he is like one saint. You might's well, M'sieur Dumars,
+go try find those money in those statue of Virgin Mary that M'sieur
+Morin present at those _p'tite soeurs_, as try find one _femme_."
+
+At Madame Tibault's last words, Robbins started slightly and cast a
+keen, sidelong glance at Dumars. The Creole sat, unmoved, dreamily
+watching the spirals of his cigarette smoke.
+
+It was then nine o'clock in the morning and, a few minutes later,
+the two friends separated, going different ways to their day's
+duties. And now follows the brief story of Madame Tibault's vanished
+thousands:
+
+
+
+New Orleans will readily recall to mind the circumstances attendant
+upon the death of Mr. Gaspard Morin, in that city. Mr. Morin was an
+artistic goldsmith and jeweller in the old French Quarter, and a man
+held in the highest esteem. He belonged to one of the oldest French
+families, and was of some distinction as an antiquary and historian.
+He was a bachelor, about fifty years of age. He lived in quiet
+comfort, at one of those rare old hostelries in Royal Street. He was
+found in his rooms, one morning, dead from unknown causes.
+
+When his affairs came to be looked into, it was found that he was
+practically insolvent, his stock of goods and personal property
+barely--but nearly enough to free him from censure--covering
+his liabilities. Following came the disclosure that he had been
+entrusted with the sum of twenty thousand dollars by a former upper
+servant in the Morin family, one Madame Tibault, which she had
+received as a legacy from relatives in France.
+
+The most searching scrutiny by friends and the legal authorities
+failed to reveal the disposition of the money. It had vanished, and
+left no trace. Some weeks before his death, Mr. Morin had drawn
+the entire amount, in gold coin, from the bank where it had been
+placed while he looked about (he told Madame Tibault) for a safe
+investment. Therefore, Mr. Morin's memory seemed doomed to bear the
+cloud of dishonesty, while madame was, of course, disconsolate.
+
+Then it was that Robbins and Dumars, representing their respective
+journals, began one of those pertinacious private investigations
+which, of late years, the press has adopted as a means to glory and
+the satisfaction of public curiosity.
+
+"_Cherchez la femme_," said Dumars.
+
+"That's the ticket!" agreed Robbins. "All roads lead to the eternal
+feminine. We will find the woman."
+
+They exhausted the knowledge of the staff of Mr. Morin's hotel, from
+the bell-boy down to the proprietor. They gently, but inflexibly,
+pumped the family of the deceased as far as his cousins twice
+removed. They artfully sounded the employees of the late jeweller,
+and dogged his customers for information concerning his habits. Like
+bloodhounds they traced every step of the supposed defaulter, as
+nearly as might be, for years along the limited and monotonous paths
+he had trodden.
+
+At the end of their labours, Mr. Morin stood, an immaculate man.
+Not one weakness that might be served up as a criminal tendency,
+not one deviation from the path of rectitude, not even a hint of a
+predilection for the opposite sex, was found to be placed in his
+debit. His life had been as regular and austere as a monk's; his
+habits, simple and unconcealed. Generous, charitable, and a model in
+propriety, was the verdict of all who knew him.
+
+"What, now?" asked Robbins, fingering his empty notebook.
+
+"_Cherchez la femme_," said Dumars, lighting a cigarette. "Try Lady
+Bellairs."
+
+This piece of femininity was the race-track favourite of the season.
+Being feminine, she was erratic in her gaits, and there were a few
+heavy losers about town who had believed she could be true. The
+reporters applied for information.
+
+Mr. Morin? Certainly not. He was never even a spectator at the
+races. Not that kind of a man. Surprised the gentlemen should ask.
+
+"Shall we throw it up?" suggested Robbins, "and let the puzzle
+department have a try?"
+
+"_Cherchez la femme_," hummed Dumars, reaching for a match. "Try the
+Little Sisters of What-d'-you-call-'em."
+
+It had developed, during the investigation, that Mr. Morin had held
+this benevolent order in particular favour. He had contributed
+liberally toward its support and had chosen its chapel as his
+favourite place of private worship. It was said that he went there
+daily to make his devotions at the altar. Indeed, toward the last of
+his life his whole mind seemed to have fixed itself upon religious
+matters, perhaps to the detriment of his worldly affairs.
+
+Thither went Robbins and Dumars, and were admitted through the
+narrow doorway in the blank stone wall that frowned upon Bonhomme
+Street. An old woman was sweeping the chapel. She told them that
+Sister Felicite, the head of the order, was then at prayer at the
+altar in the alcove. In a few moments she would emerge. Heavy, black
+curtains screened the alcove. They waited.
+
+Soon the curtains were disturbed, and Sister Felicite came forth.
+She was tall, tragic, bony, and plain-featured, dressed in the black
+gown and severe bonnet of the sisterhood.
+
+Robbins, a good rough-and-tumble reporter, but lacking the delicate
+touch, began to speak.
+
+They represented the press. The lady had, no doubt, heard of the
+Morin affair. It was necessary, in justice to that gentleman's
+memory, to probe the mystery of the lost money. It was known that he
+had come often to this chapel. Any information, now, concerning Mr.
+Morin's habits, tastes, the friends he had, and so on, would be of
+value in doing him posthumous justice.
+
+Sister Felicite had heard. Whatever she knew would be willingly
+told, but it was very little. Monsieur Morin had been a good friend
+to the order, sometimes contributing as much as a hundred dollars.
+The sisterhood was an independent one, depending entirely upon
+private contributions for the means to carry on its charitable work.
+Mr. Morin had presented the chapel with silver candlesticks and an
+altar cloth. He came every day to worship in the chapel, sometimes
+remaining for an hour. He was a devout Catholic, consecrated to
+holiness. Yes, and also in the alcove was a statue of the Virgin
+that he had himself modeled, cast, and presented to the order. Oh,
+it was cruel to cast a doubt upon so good a man!
+
+Robbins was also profoundly grieved at the imputation. But, until it
+was found what Mr. Morin had done with Madame Tibault's money, he
+feared the tongue of slander would not be stilled. Sometimes--in
+fact, very often--in affairs of the kind there was--er--as the
+saying goes--er--a lady in the case. In absolute confidence,
+now--if--perhaps--
+
+Sister Felicite's large eyes regarded him solemnly.
+
+"There was one woman," she said, slowly, "to whom he bowed--to whom
+he gave his heart."
+
+Robbins fumbled rapturously for his pencil.
+
+"Behold the woman!" said Sister Felicite, suddenly, in deep tones.
+
+She reached a long arm and swept aside the curtain of the alcove.
+In there was a shrine, lit to a glow of soft colour by the light
+pouring through a stained-glass window. Within a deep niche in the
+bare stone wall stood an image of the Virgin Mary, the colour of
+pure gold.
+
+Dumars, a conventional Catholic, succumbed to the dramatic in the
+act. He bowed his head for an instant and made the sign of the
+cross. The somewhat abashed Robbins, murmuring an indistinct
+apology, backed awkwardly away. Sister Felicite drew back the
+curtain, and the reporters departed.
+
+On the narrow stone sidewalk of Bonhomme Street, Robbins turned to
+Dumars, with unworthy sarcasm.
+
+"Well, what next? Churchy law fem?"
+
+"Absinthe," said Dumars.
+
+
+
+With the history of the missing money thus partially related, some
+conjecture may be formed of the sudden idea that Madame Tibault's
+words seemed to have suggested to Robbins's brain.
+
+Was it so wild a surmise--that the religious fanatic had offered up
+his wealth--or, rather, Madame Tibault's--in the shape of a material
+symbol of his consuming devotion? Stranger things have been done in
+the name of worship. Was it not possible that the lost thousands
+were molded into that lustrous image? That the goldsmith had formed
+it of the pure and precious metal, and set it there, through some
+hope of a perhaps disordered brain to propitiate the saints and pave
+the way to his own selfish glory?
+
+That afternoon, at five minutes to three, Robbins entered the chapel
+door of the Little Sisters of Samaria. He saw, in the dim light,
+a crowd of perhaps a hundred people gathered to attend the sale.
+Most of them were members of various religious orders, priests and
+churchmen, come to purchase the paraphernalia of the chapel, lest
+they fall into desecrating hands. Others were business men and
+agents come to bid upon the realty. A clerical-looking brother
+had volunteered to wield the hammer, bringing to the office of
+auctioneer the anomaly of choice diction and dignity of manner.
+
+A few of the minor articles were sold, and then two assistants
+brought forward the image of the Virgin.
+
+Robbins started the bidding at ten dollars. A stout man, in an
+ecclesiastical garb, went to fifteen. A voice from another part of
+the crowd raised to twenty. The three bid alternately, raising by
+bids of five, until the offer was fifty dollars. Then the stout man
+dropped out, and Robbins, as a sort of _coup de main_, went to a
+hundred.
+
+"One hundred and fifty," said the other voice.
+
+"Two hundred," bid Robbins, boldly.
+
+"Two-fifty," called his competitor, promptly.
+
+The reporter hesitated for the space of a lightning flash,
+estimating how much he could borrow from the boys in the office,
+and screw from the business manager from his next month's salary.
+
+"Three hundred," he offered.
+
+"Three-fifty," spoke up the other, in a louder voice--a voice that
+sent Robbins diving suddenly through the crowd in its direction, to
+catch Dumars, its owner, ferociously by the collar.
+
+"You unconverted idiot!" hissed Robbins, close to his ear--"pool!"
+
+"Agreed!" said Dumars, coolly. "I couldn't raise three hundred and
+fifty dollars with a search-warrant, but I can stand half. What you
+come bidding against me for?"
+
+"I thought I was the only fool in the crowd," explained Robbins.
+
+No one else bidding, the statue was knocked down to the syndicate
+at their last offer. Dumars remained with the prize, while Robbins
+hurried forth to wring from the resources and credit of both the
+price. He soon returned with the money, and the two musketeers
+loaded their precious package into a carriage and drove with it
+to Dumars's room, in old Chartres Street, nearby. They lugged it,
+covered with a cloth, up the stairs, and deposited it on a table.
+A hundred pounds it weighed, if an ounce, and at that estimate,
+according to their calculation, if their daring theory were correct,
+it stood there, worth twenty thousand golden dollars.
+
+Robbins removed the covering, and opened his pocket-knife.
+
+"_Sacre!_" muttered Dumars, shuddering. "It is the Mother of Christ.
+What would you do?"
+
+"Shut up, Judas!" said Robbins, coldly. "It's too late for you to be
+saved now."
+
+With a firm hand, he chipped a slice from the shoulder of the image.
+The cut showed a dull, grayish metal, with a thin coating of gold
+leaf.
+
+"Lead!" announced Robbins, hurling his knife to the floor--"gilded!"
+
+"To the devil with it!" said Dumars, forgetting his scruples. "I
+must have a drink."
+
+Together they walked moodily to the cafe of Madame Tribault, two
+squares away.
+
+It seemed that madame's mind had been stirred that day to fresh
+recollections of the past services of the two young men in her
+behalf.
+
+"You mustn't sit by those table," she interposed, as they were about
+to drop into their accustomed seats. "Thass so, boys. But no. I mek
+you come at this room, like my _tres bon amis_. Yes. I goin' mek for
+you myself one _anisette_ and one _cafe royale_ ver' fine. Ah! I lak
+treat my fren' nize. Yes. Plis come in this way."
+
+Madame led them into the little back room, into which she sometimes
+invited the especially favoured of her customers. In two comfortable
+armchairs, by a big window that opened upon the courtyard, she
+placed them, with a low table between. Bustling hospitably about,
+she began to prepare the promised refreshments.
+
+It was the first time the reporters had been honoured with admission
+to the sacred precincts. The room was in dusky twilight, flecked
+with gleams of the polished, fine woods and burnished glass and
+metal that the Creoles love. From the little courtyard a tiny
+fountain sent in an insinuating sound of trickling waters, to which
+a banana plant by the window kept time with its tremulous leaves.
+
+Robbins, an investigator by nature, sent a curious glance roving
+about the room. From some barbaric ancestor, madame had inherited a
+_penchant_ for the crude in decoration.
+
+The walls were adorned with cheap lithographs--florid libels upon
+nature, addressed to the taste of the _bourgeoisie_--birthday cards,
+garish newspaper supplements, and specimens of art-advertising
+calculated to reduce the optic nerve to stunned submission. A patch
+of something unintelligible in the midst of the more candid display
+puzzled Robbins, and he rose and took a step nearer, to interrogate
+it at closer range. Then he leaned weakly against the wall, and
+called out:
+
+"Madame Tibault! Oh, madame! Since when--oh! since when have you
+been in the habit of papering your walls with five thousand dollar
+United States four per cent. gold bonds? Tell me--is this a Grimm's
+fairy tale, or should I consult an oculist?"
+
+At his words, Madame Tibault and Dumars approached.
+
+"H'what you say?" said madame, cheerily. "H'what you say, M'sieur
+Robbin? _Bon!_ Ah! those nize li'l peezes papier! One tam I think
+those w'at you call calendair, wiz ze li'l day of mont' below. But,
+no. Those wall is broke in those plaze, M'sieur Robbin', and I
+plaze those li'l peezes papier to conceal ze crack. I did think the
+couleur harm'nize so well with the wall papier. Where I get them
+from? Ah, yes, I remem' ver' well. One day M'sieur Morin, he come
+at my houze--thass 'bout one mont' before he shall die--thass 'long
+'bout tam he promise fo' inves' those money fo' me. M'sieur Morin,
+he leave thoze li'l peezes papier in those table, and say ver' much
+'bout money thass hard for me to ond'stan. _Mais_ I never see those
+money again. Thass ver' wicked man, M'sieur Morin. H'what you call
+those peezes papier, M'sieur Robbin'--_bon!_"
+
+Robbins explained.
+
+"There's your twenty thousand dollars, with coupons attached," he
+said, running his thumb around the edge of the four bonds. "Better
+get an expert to peel them off for you. Mister Morin was all right.
+I'm going out to get my ears trimmed."
+
+He dragged Dumars by the arm into the outer room. Madame was
+screaming for Nicolette and Meme to come and observe the fortune
+returned to her by M'sieur Morin, that best of men, that saint in
+glory.
+
+"Marsy," said Robbins, "I'm going on a jamboree. For three days the
+esteemed _Pic._ will have to get along without my valuable services.
+I advise you to join me. Now, that green stuff you drink is no good.
+It stimulates thought. What we want to do is to forget to remember.
+I'll introduce you to the only lady in this case that is guaranteed
+to produce the desired results. Her name is Belle of Kentucky,
+twelve-year-old Bourbon. In quarts. How does the idea strike you?"
+
+"_Allons!_" said Dumars. "_Cherchez la femme_."
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+FRIENDS IN SAN ROSARIO
+
+
+The west-bound train stopped at San Rosario on time at 8.20 A.M. A
+man with a thick black-leather wallet under his arm left the train
+and walked rapidly up the main street of the town. There were other
+passengers who also got off at San Rosario, but they either slouched
+limberly over to the railroad eating-house or the Silver Dollar
+saloon, or joined the groups of idlers about the station.
+
+Indecision had no part in the movements of the man with the wallet.
+He was short in stature, but strongly built, with very light,
+closely-trimmed hair, smooth, determined face, and aggressive,
+gold-rimmed nose glasses. He was well dressed in the prevailing
+Eastern style. His air denoted a quiet but conscious reserve force,
+if not actual authority.
+
+After walking a distance of three squares he came to the centre of
+the town's business area. Here another street of importance crossed
+the main one, forming the hub of San Rosario's life and commerce.
+Upon one corner stood the post-office. Upon another Rubensky's
+Clothing Emporium. The other two diagonally opposing corners were
+occupied by the town's two banks, the First National and the
+Stockmen's National. Into the First National Bank of San Rosario
+the newcomer walked, never slowing his brisk step until he stood
+at the cashier's window. The bank opened for business at nine, and
+the working force was already assembled, each member preparing his
+department for the day's business. The cashier was examining the
+mail when he noticed the stranger standing at his window.
+
+"Bank doesn't open 'til nine," he remarked curtly, but without
+feeling. He had had to make that statement so often to early birds
+since San Rosario adopted city banking hours.
+
+"I am well aware of that," said the other man, in cool, brittle
+tones. "Will you kindly receive my card?"
+
+The cashier drew the small, spotless parallelogram inside the bars
+of his wicket, and read:
+
+
+   J. F. C. Nettlewick
+   National Bank Examiner
+
+
+"Oh--er--will you walk around inside, Mr.--er--Nettlewick. Your
+first visit--didn't know your business, of course. Walk right
+around, please."
+
+The examiner was quickly inside the sacred precincts of the bank,
+where he was ponderously introduced to each employee in turn by Mr.
+Edlinger, the cashier--a middle-aged gentleman of deliberation,
+discretion, and method.
+
+"I was kind of expecting Sam Turner round again, pretty soon," said
+Mr. Edlinger. "Sam's been examining us now, for about four years. I
+guess you'll find us all right, though, considering the tightness
+in business. Not overly much money on hand, but able to stand the
+storms, sir, stand the storms."
+
+"Mr. Turner and I have been ordered by the Comptroller to exchange
+districts," said the examiner, in his decisive, formal tones. "He is
+covering my old territory in Southern Illinois and Indiana. I will
+take the cash first, please."
+
+Perry Dorsey, the teller, was already arranging his cash on the
+counter for the examiner's inspection. He knew it was right to a
+cent, and he had nothing to fear, but he was nervous and flustered.
+So was every man in the bank. There was something so icy and swift,
+so impersonal and uncompromising about this man that his very
+presence seemed an accusation. He looked to be a man who would never
+make nor overlook an error.
+
+Mr. Nettlewick first seized the currency, and with a rapid, almost
+juggling motion, counted it by packages. Then he spun the sponge cup
+toward him and verified the count by bills. His thin, white fingers
+flew like some expert musician's upon the keys of a piano. He dumped
+the gold upon the counter with a crash, and the coins whined and
+sang as they skimmed across the marble slab from the tips of his
+nimble digits. The air was full of fractional currency when he came
+to the halves and quarters. He counted the last nickle and dime.
+He had the scales brought, and he weighed every sack of silver
+in the vault. He questioned Dorsey concerning each of the cash
+memoranda--certain checks, charge slips, etc., carried over from the
+previous day's work--with unimpeachable courtesy, yet with something
+so mysteriously momentous in his frigid manner, that the teller was
+reduced to pink cheeks and a stammering tongue.
+
+This newly-imported examiner was so different from Sam Turner. It
+had been Sam's way to enter the bank with a shout, pass the cigars,
+and tell the latest stories he had picked up on his rounds. His
+customary greeting to Dorsey had been, "Hello, Perry! Haven't
+skipped out with the boodle yet, I see." Turner's way of counting
+the cash had been different, too. He would finger the packages of
+bills in a tired kind of way, and then go into the vault and kick
+over a few sacks of silver, and the thing was done. Halves and
+quarters and dimes? Not for Sam Turner. "No chicken feed for
+me," he would say when they were set before him. "I'm not in the
+agricultural department." But, then, Turner was a Texan, an old
+friend of the bank's president, and had known Dorsey since he was
+a baby.
+
+While the examiner was counting the cash, Major Thomas B.
+Kingman--known to every one as "Major Tom"--the president of the
+First National, drove up to the side door with his old dun horse and
+buggy, and came inside. He saw the examiner busy with the money,
+and, going into the little "pony corral," as he called it, in which
+his desk was railed off, he began to look over his letters.
+
+Earlier, a little incident had occurred that even the sharp eyes of
+the examiner had failed to notice. When he had begun his work at the
+cash counter, Mr. Edlinger had winked significantly at Roy Wilson,
+the youthful bank messenger, and nodded his head slightly toward the
+front door. Roy understood, got his hat, and walked leisurely out,
+with his collector's book under his arm. Once outside, he made a
+bee-line for the Stockmen's National. That bank was also getting
+ready to open. No customers had, as yet, presented themselves.
+
+"Say, you people!" cried Roy, with the familiarity of youth and long
+acquaintance, "you want to get a move on you. There's a new bank
+examiner over at the First, and he's a stem-winder. He's counting
+nickles on Perry, and he's got the whole outfit bluffed. Mr.
+Edlinger gave me the tip to let you know."
+
+Mr. Buckley, president of the Stockmen's National--a stout, elderly
+man, looking like a farmer dressed for Sunday--heard Roy from his
+private office at the rear and called him.
+
+"Has Major Kingman come down to the bank yet?" he asked of the boy.
+
+"Yes, sir, he was just driving up as I left," said Roy.
+
+"I want you to take him a note. Put it into his own hands as soon as
+you get back."
+
+Mr. Buckley sat down and began to write.
+
+Roy returned and handed to Major Kingman the envelope containing the
+note. The major read it, folded it, and slipped it into his vest
+pocket. He leaned back in his chair for a few moments as if he were
+meditating deeply, and then rose and went into the vault. He came
+out with the bulky, old-fashioned leather note case stamped on the
+back in gilt letters, "Bills Discounted." In this were the notes due
+the bank with their attached securities, and the major, in his rough
+way, dumped the lot upon his desk and began to sort them over.
+
+By this time Nettlewick had finished his count of the cash. His
+pencil fluttered like a swallow over the sheet of paper on which he
+had set his figures. He opened his black wallet, which seemed to be
+also a kind of secret memorandum book, made a few rapid figures in
+it, wheeled and transfixed Dorsey with the glare of his spectacles.
+That look seemed to say: "You're safe this time, but--"
+
+"Cash all correct," snapped the examiner. He made a dash for the
+individual bookkeeper, and, for a few minutes there was a fluttering
+of ledger leaves and a sailing of balance sheets through the air.
+
+"How often do you balance your pass-books?" he demanded, suddenly.
+
+"Er--once a month," faltered the individual bookkeeper, wondering
+how many years they would give him.
+
+"All right," said the examiner, turning and charging upon the
+general bookkeeper, who had the statements of his foreign banks and
+their reconcilement memoranda ready. Everything there was found to
+be all right. Then the stub book of the certificates of deposit.
+Flutter--flutter--zip--zip--check! All right. List of over-drafts,
+please. Thanks. H'm-m. Unsigned bills of the bank, next. All right.
+
+Then came the cashier's turn, and easy-going Mr. Edlinger rubbed his
+nose and polished his glasses nervously under the quick fire of
+questions concerning the circulation, undivided profits, bank real
+estate, and stock ownership.
+
+Presently Nettlewick was aware of a big man towering above him at
+his elbow--a man sixty years of age, rugged and hale, with a rough,
+grizzled beard, a mass of gray hair, and a pair of penetrating blue
+eyes that confronted the formidable glasses of the examiner without
+a flicker.
+
+"Er--Major Kingman, our president--er--Mr. Nettlewick," said the
+cashier.
+
+Two men of very different types shook hands. One was a finished
+product of the world of straight lines, conventional methods, and
+formal affairs. The other was something freer, wider, and nearer to
+nature. Tom Kingman had not been cut to any pattern. He had been
+mule-driver, cowboy, ranger, soldier, sheriff, prospector, and
+cattleman. Now, when he was bank president, his old comrades from
+the prairies, of the saddle, tent, and trail found no change in him.
+He had made his fortune when Texas cattle were at the high tide of
+value, and had organized the First National Bank of San Rosario.
+In spite of his largeness of heart and sometimes unwise generosity
+toward his old friends, the bank had prospered, for Major Tom
+Kingman knew men as well as he knew cattle. Of late years the cattle
+business had known a depression, and the major's bank was one of the
+few whose losses had not been great.
+
+"And now," said the examiner, briskly, pulling out his watch, "the
+last thing is the loans. We will take them up now, if you please."
+
+He had gone through the First National at almost record-breaking
+speed--but thoroughly, as he did everything. The running order of
+the bank was smooth and clean, and that had facilitated his work.
+There was but one other bank in the town. He received from the
+Government a fee of twenty-five dollars for each bank that he
+examined. He should be able to go over those loans and discounts in
+half an hour. If so, he could examine the other bank immediately
+afterward, and catch the 11.45, the only other train that day in
+the direction he was working. Otherwise, he would have to spend the
+night and Sunday in this uninteresting Western town. That was why
+Mr. Nettlewick was rushing matters.
+
+"Come with me, sir," said Major Kingman, in his deep voice, that
+united the Southern drawl with the rhythmic twang of the West; "We
+will go over them together. Nobody in the bank knows those notes as
+I do. Some of 'em are a little wobbly on their legs, and some are
+mavericks without extra many brands on their backs, but they'll most
+all pay out at the round-up."
+
+The two sat down at the president's desk. First, the examiner went
+through the notes at lightning speed, and added up their total,
+finding it to agree with the amount of loans carried on the book
+of daily balances. Next, he took up the larger loans, inquiring
+scrupulously into the condition of their endorsers or securities.
+The new examiner's mind seemed to course and turn and make
+unexpected dashes hither and thither like a bloodhound seeking a
+trail. Finally he pushed aside all the notes except a few, which he
+arranged in a neat pile before him, and began a dry, formal little
+speech.
+
+"I find, sir, the condition of your bank to be very good,
+considering the poor crops and the depression in the cattle
+interests of your state. The clerical work seems to be done
+accurately and punctually. Your past-due paper is moderate in
+amount, and promises only a small loss. I would recommend the
+calling in of your large loans, and the making of only sixty and
+ninety day or call loans until general business revives. And now,
+there is one thing more, and I will have finished with the bank.
+Here are six notes aggregating something like $40,000. They are
+secured, according to their faces, by various stocks, bonds, shares,
+etc. to the value of $70,000. Those securities are missing from the
+notes to which they should be attached. I suppose you have them in
+the safe or vault. You will permit me to examine them."
+
+Major Tom's light-blue eyes turned unflinchingly toward the
+examiner.
+
+"No, sir," he said, in a low but steady tone; "those securities are
+neither in the safe nor in the vault. I have taken them. You may
+hold me personally responsible for their absence."
+
+Nettlewick felt a slight thrill. He had not expected this. He had
+struck a momentous trail when the hunt was drawing to a close.
+
+"Ah!" said the examiner. He waited a moment, and then continued:
+"May I ask you to explain more definitely?"
+
+"The securities were taken by me," repeated the major. "It was not
+for my own use, but to save an old friend in trouble. Come in here,
+sir, and we'll talk it over."
+
+He led the examiner into the bank's private office at the rear, and
+closed the door. There was a desk, and a table, and half-a-dozen
+leather-covered chairs. On the wall was the mounted head of a Texas
+steer with horns five feet from tip to tip. Opposite hung the
+major's old cavalry saber that he had carried at Shiloh and Fort
+Pillow.
+
+Placing a chair for Nettlewick, the major seated himself by the
+window, from which he could see the post-office and the carved
+limestone front of the Stockmen's National. He did not speak at
+once, and Nettlewick felt, perhaps, that the ice could be broken
+by something so near its own temperature as the voice of official
+warning.
+
+"Your statement," he began, "since you have failed to modify it,
+amounts, as you must know, to a very serious thing. You are aware,
+also, of what my duty must compel me to do. I shall have to go
+before the United States Commissioner and make--"
+
+"I know, I know," said Major Tom, with a wave of his hand. "You
+don't suppose I'd run a bank without being posted on national
+banking laws and the revised statutes! Do your duty. I'm not asking
+any favours. But, I spoke of my friend. I did want you to hear me
+tell you about Bob."
+
+Nettlewick settled himself in his chair. There would be no leaving
+San Rosario for him that day. He would have to telegraph to the
+Comptroller of the Currency; he would have to swear out a warrant
+before the United States Commissioner for the arrest of Major
+Kingman; perhaps he would be ordered to close the bank on account of
+the loss of the securities. It was not the first crime the examiner
+had unearthed. Once or twice the terrible upheaval of human emotions
+that his investigations had loosed had almost caused a ripple in his
+official calm. He had seen bank men kneel and plead and cry like
+women for a chance--an hour's time--the overlooking of a single
+error. One cashier had shot himself at his desk before him. None of
+them had taken it with the dignity and coolness of this stern old
+Westerner. Nettlewick felt that he owed it to him at least to listen
+if he wished to talk. With his elbow on the arm of his chair, and
+his square chin resting upon the fingers of his right hand, the bank
+examiner waited to hear the confession of the president of the First
+National Bank of San Rosario.
+
+"When a man's your friend," began Major Tom, somewhat didactically,
+"for forty years, and tried by water, fire, earth, and cyclones,
+when you can do him a little favour you feel like doing it."
+
+("Embezzle for him $70,000 worth of securities," thought the
+examiner.)
+
+"We were cowboys together, Bob and I," continued the major, speaking
+slowly, and deliberately, and musingly, as if his thoughts were
+rather with the past than the critical present, "and we prospected
+together for gold and silver over Arizona, New Mexico, and a good
+part of California. We were both in the war of 'sixty-one, but in
+different commands. We've fought Indians and horse thieves side by
+side; we've starved for weeks in a cabin in the Arizona mountains,
+buried twenty feet deep in snow; we've ridden herd together when the
+wind blew so hard the lightning couldn't strike--well, Bob and I
+have been through some rough spells since the first time we met in
+the branding camp of the old Anchor-Bar ranch. And during that time
+we've found it necessary more than once to help each other out of
+tight places. In those days it was expected of a man to stick to his
+friend, and he didn't ask any credit for it. Probably next day you'd
+need him to get at your back and help stand off a band of Apaches,
+or put a tourniquet on your leg above a rattlesnake bite and ride
+for whisky. So, after all, it was give and take, and if you didn't
+stand square with your pardner, why, you might be shy one when you
+needed him. But Bob was a man who was willing to go further than
+that. He never played a limit.
+
+"Twenty years ago I was sheriff of this county, and I made Bob my
+chief deputy. That was before the boom in cattle when we both made
+our stake. I was sheriff and collector, and it was a big thing for
+me then. I was married, and we had a boy and a girl--a four and a
+six year old. There was a comfortable house next to the courthouse,
+furnished by the county, rent free, and I was saving some money. Bob
+did most of the office work. Both of us had seen rough times and
+plenty of rustling and danger, and I tell you it was great to hear
+the rain and the sleet dashing against the windows of nights, and
+be warm and safe and comfortable, and know you could get up in the
+morning and be shaved and have folks call you 'mister.' And then, I
+had the finest wife and kids that ever struck the range, and my old
+friend with me enjoying the first fruits of prosperity and white
+shirts, and I guess I was happy. Yes, I was happy about that time."
+
+The major sighed and glanced casually out of the window. The bank
+examiner changed his position, and leaned his chin upon his other
+hand.
+
+"One winter," continued the major, "the money for the county taxes
+came pouring in so fast that I didn't have time to take the stuff to
+the bank for a week. I just shoved the checks into a cigar box and
+the money into a sack, and locked them in the big safe that belonged
+to the sheriff's office.
+
+"I had been overworked that week, and was about sick, anyway. My
+nerves were out of order, and my sleep at night didn't seem to rest
+me. The doctor had some scientific name for it, and I was taking
+medicine. And so, added to the rest, I went to bed at night with
+that money on my mind. Not that there was much need of being
+worried, for the safe was a good one, and nobody but Bob and I knew
+the combination. On Friday night there was about $6,500 in cash in
+the bag. On Saturday morning I went to the office as usual. The safe
+was locked, and Bob was writing at his desk. I opened the safe,
+and the money was gone. I called Bob, and roused everybody in the
+court-house to announce the robbery. It struck me that Bob took it
+pretty quiet, considering how much it reflected upon both him and
+me.
+
+"Two days went by and we never got a clew. It couldn't have been
+burglars, for the safe had been opened by the combination in the
+proper way. People must have begun to talk, for one afternoon in
+comes Alice--that's my wife--and the boy and girl, and Alice
+stamps her foot, and her eyes flash, and she cries out, 'The lying
+wretches--Tom, Tom!' and I catch her in a faint, and bring her
+'round little by little, and she lays her head down and cries and
+cries for the first time since she took Tom Kingman's name and
+fortunes. And Jack and Zilla--the youngsters--they were always wild
+as tiger cubs to rush at Bob and climb all over him whenever they
+were allowed to come to the court-house--they stood and kicked their
+little shoes, and herded together like scared partridges. They were
+having their first trip down into the shadows of life. Bob was
+working at his desk, and he got up and went out without a word. The
+grand jury was in session then, and the next morning Bob went before
+them and confessed that he stole the money. He said he lost it in a
+poker game. In fifteen minutes they had found a true bill and sent
+me the warrant to arrest the man with whom I'd been closer than a
+thousand brothers for many a year.
+
+"I did it, and then I said to Bob, pointing: 'There's my house,
+and here's my office, and up there's Maine, and out that way is
+California, and over there is Florida--and that's your range 'til
+court meets. You're in my charge, and I take the responsibility.
+You be here when you're wanted.'
+
+"'Thanks, Tom,' he said, kind of carelessly; 'I was sort of hoping
+you wouldn't lock me up. Court meets next Monday, so, if you don't
+object, I'll just loaf around the office until then. I've got one
+favour to ask, if it isn't too much. If you'd let the kids come out
+in the yard once in a while and have a romp I'd like it.'
+
+"'Why not?' I answered him. 'They're welcome, and so are you. And
+come to my house, the same as ever.' You see, Mr. Nettlewick, you
+can't make a friend of a thief, but neither can you make a thief of
+a friend, all at once."
+
+The examiner made no answer. At that moment was heard the shrill
+whistle of a locomotive pulling into the depot. That was the train
+on the little, narrow-gauge road that struck into San Rosario from
+the south. The major cocked his ear and listened for a moment, and
+looked at his watch. The narrow-gauge was in on time--10.35. The
+major continued:
+
+"So Bob hung around the office, reading the papers and smoking. I
+put another deputy to work in his place, and after a while, the
+first excitement of the case wore off.
+
+"One day when we were alone in the office Bob came over to where I
+was sitting. He was looking sort of grim and blue--the same look
+he used to get when he'd been up watching for Indians all night or
+herd-riding.
+
+"'Tom,' says he, 'it's harder than standing off redskins; it's
+harder than lying in the lava desert forty miles from water; but I'm
+going to stick it out to the end. You know that's been my style. But
+if you'd tip me the smallest kind of a sign--if you'd just say, "Bob
+I understand," why, it would make it lots easier.'
+
+"I was surprised. 'I don't know what you mean, Bob,' I said. 'Of
+course, you know that I'd do anything under the sun to help you that
+I could. But you've got me guessing.'
+
+"'All right, Tom,' was all he said, and he went back to his
+newspaper and lit another cigar.
+
+"It was the night before court met when I found out what he meant.
+I went to bed that night with that same old, light-headed, nervous
+feeling come back upon me. I dropped off to sleep about midnight.
+When I awoke I was standing half dressed in one of the court-house
+corridors. Bob was holding one of my arms, our family doctor the
+other, and Alice was shaking me and half crying. She had sent for
+the doctor without my knowing it, and when he came they had found me
+out of bed and missing, and had begun a search.
+
+"'Sleep-walking,' said the doctor.
+
+"All of us went back to the house, and the doctor told us some
+remarkable stories about the strange things people had done while in
+that condition. I was feeling rather chilly after my trip out, and,
+as my wife was out of the room at the time, I pulled open the door
+of an old wardrobe that stood in the room and dragged out a big
+quilt I had seen in there. With it tumbled out the bag of money for
+stealing which Bob was to be tried--and convicted--in the morning.
+
+"'How the jumping rattlesnakes did that get there?' I yelled, and
+all hands must have seen how surprised I was. Bob knew in a flash.
+
+"'You darned old snoozer,' he said, with the old-time look on his
+face, 'I saw you put it there. I watched you open the safe and take
+it out, and I followed you. I looked through the window and saw you
+hide it in that wardrobe.'
+
+"'Then, you blankety-blank, flop-eared, sheep-headed coyote, what
+did you say you took it, for?'
+
+"'Because,' said Bob, simply, 'I didn't know you were asleep.'
+
+"I saw him glance toward the door of the room where Jack and Zilla
+were, and I knew then what it meant to be a man's friend from Bob's
+point of view."
+
+Major Tom paused, and again directed his glance out of the window.
+He saw some one in the Stockmen's National Bank reach and draw a
+yellow shade down the whole length of its plate-glass, big front
+window, although the position of the sun did not seem to warrant
+such a defensive movement against its rays.
+
+Nettlewick sat up straight in his chair. He had listened patiently,
+but without consuming interest, to the major's story. It had
+impressed him as irrelevant to the situation, and it could certainly
+have no effect upon the consequences. Those Western people,
+he thought, had an exaggerated sentimentality. They were not
+business-like. They needed to be protected from their friends.
+Evidently the major had concluded. And what he had said amounted to
+nothing.
+
+"May I ask," said the examiner, "if you have anything further to say
+that bears directly upon the question of those abstracted
+securities?"
+
+"Abstracted securities, sir!" Major Tom turned suddenly in his
+chair, his blue eyes flashing upon the examiner. "What do you mean,
+sir?"
+
+He drew from his coat pocket a batch of folded papers held together
+by a rubber band, tossed them into Nettlewick's hands, and rose to
+his feet.
+
+"You'll find those securities there, sir, every stock, bond, and
+share of 'em. I took them from the notes while you were counting the
+cash. Examine and compare them for yourself."
+
+The major led the way back into the banking room. The examiner,
+astounded, perplexed, nettled, at sea, followed. He felt that he had
+been made the victim of something that was not exactly a hoax, but
+that left him in the shoes of one who had been played upon, used,
+and then discarded, without even an inkling of the game. Perhaps,
+also, his official position had been irreverently juggled with. But
+there was nothing he could take hold of. An official report of the
+matter would be an absurdity. And, somehow, he felt that he would
+never know anything more about the matter than he did then.
+
+Frigidly, mechanically, Nettlewick examined the securities, found
+them to tally with the notes, gathered his black wallet, and rose to
+depart.
+
+"I will say," he protested, turning the indignant glare of his
+glasses upon Major Kingman, "that your statements--your misleading
+statements, which you have not condescended to explain--do not
+appear to be quite the thing, regarded either as business or humour.
+I do not understand such motives or actions."
+
+Major Tom looked down at him serenely and not unkindly.
+
+"Son," he said, "there are plenty of things in the chaparral, and
+on the prairies, and up the canyons that you don't understand. But
+I want to thank you for listening to a garrulous old man's prosy
+story. We old Texans love to talk about our adventures and our old
+comrades, and the home folks have long ago learned to run when we
+begin with 'Once upon a time,' so we have to spin our yarns to the
+stranger within our gates."
+
+The major smiled, but the examiner only bowed coldly, and abruptly
+quitted the bank. They saw him travel diagonally across the street
+in a straight line and enter the Stockmen's National Bank.
+
+Major Tom sat down at his desk, and drew from his vest pocket the
+note Roy had given him. He had read it once, but hurriedly, and now,
+with something like a twinkle in his eyes, he read it again. These
+were the words he read:
+
+
+   DEAR TOM:
+
+   I hear there's one of Uncle Sam's grayhounds going through
+   you, and that means that we'll catch him inside of a couple
+   of hours, maybe. Now, I want you to do something for me.
+   We've got just $2,200 in the bank, and the law requires
+   that we have $20,000. I let Ross and Fisher have $18,000
+   late yesterday afternoon to buy up that Gibson bunch of
+   cattle. They'll realise $40,000 in less than thirty days on
+   the transaction, but that won't make my cash on hand look
+   any prettier to that bank examiner. Now, I can't show him
+   those notes, for they're just plain notes of hand without
+   any security in sight, but you know very well that Pink
+   Ross and Jim Fisher are two of the finest white men God
+   ever made, and they'll do the square thing. You remember
+   Jim Fisher--he was the one who shot that faro dealer in El
+   Paso. I wired Sam Bradshaw's bank to send me $20,000, and
+   it will get in on the narrow-gauge at 10.35. You can't let
+   a bank examiner in to count $2,200 and close your doors.
+   Tom, you hold that examiner. Hold him. Hold him if you have
+   to rope him and sit on his head. Watch our front window
+   after the narrow-gauge gets in, and when we've got the cash
+   inside we'll pull down the shade for a signal. Don't turn
+   him loose till then. I'm counting on you, Tom.
+
+   Your Old Pard,
+   BOB BUCKLY,
+   _Prest. Stockmen's National_.
+
+
+The major began to tear the note into small pieces and throw them
+into his waste basket. He gave a satisfied little chuckle as he did
+so.
+
+"Confounded old reckless cowpuncher!" he growled, contentedly, "that
+pays him some on account for what he tried to do for me in the
+sheriff's office twenty years ago."
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+THE FOURTH IN SALVADOR
+
+
+On a summer's day, while the city was rocking with the din and red
+uproar of patriotism, Billy Casparis told me this story.
+
+In his way, Billy is Ulysses, Jr. Like Satan, he comes from going
+to and fro upon the earth and walking up and down in it. To-morrow
+morning while you are cracking your breakfast egg he may be off with
+his little alligator grip to boom a town site in the middle of Lake
+Okeechobee or to trade horses with the Patagonians.
+
+We sat at a little, round table, and between us were glasses holding
+big lumps of ice, and above us leaned an artificial palm. And
+because our scene was set with the properties of the one they
+recalled to his mind, Billy was stirred to narrative.
+
+"It reminds me," said he, "of a Fourth I helped to celebrate down in
+Salvador. 'Twas while I was running an ice factory down there, after
+I unloaded that silver mine I had in Colorado. I had what they
+called a 'conditional concession.' They made me put up a thousand
+dollars cash forfeit that I would make ice continuously for six
+months. If I did that I could draw down my ante. If I failed to do
+so the government took the pot. So the inspectors kept dropping in,
+trying to catch me without the goods.
+
+"One day when the thermometer was at 110, the clock at half-past
+one, and the calendar at July third, two of the little, brown, oily
+nosers in red trousers slid in to make an inspection. Now, the
+factory hadn't turned out a pound of ice in three weeks, for a
+couple of reasons. The Salvador heathen wouldn't buy it; they said
+it made things cold they put it in. And I couldn't make any more,
+because I was broke. All I was holding on for was to get down my
+thousand so I could leave the country. The six months would be up
+on the sixth of July.
+
+"Well, I showed 'em all the ice I had. I raised the lid of a darkish
+vat, and there was an elegant 100-pound block of ice, beautiful and
+convincing to the eye. I was about to close down the lid again when
+one of those brunette sleuths flops down on his red knees and lays
+a slanderous and violent hand on my guarantee of good faith. And in
+two minutes more they had dragged out on the floor that fine chunk
+of molded glass that had cost me fifty dollars to have shipped down
+from Frisco.
+
+"'Ice-y?' says the fellow that played me the dishonourable trick;
+'verree warm ice-y. Yes. The day is that hot, senor. Yes. Maybeso it
+is of desirableness to leave him out to get the cool. Yes.'
+
+"'Yes,' says I, 'yes,' for I knew they had me. 'Touching's
+believing, ain't it, boys? Yes. Now there's some might say the seats
+of your trousers are sky blue, but 'tis my opinion they are red.
+Let's apply the tests of the laying on of hands and feet.' And so I
+hoisted both those inspectors out the door on the toe of my shoe,
+and sat down to cool off on my block of disreputable glass.
+
+"And, as I live without oats, while I sat there, homesick for money
+and without a cent to my ambition, there came on the breeze the most
+beautiful smell my nose had entered for a year. God knows where it
+came from in that backyard of a country--it was a bouquet of soaked
+lemon peel, cigar stumps, and stale beer--exactly the smell of
+Goldbrick Charley's place on Fourteenth Street where I used to play
+pinochle of afternoons with the third-rate actors. And that smell
+drove my troubles through me and clinched 'em at the back. I began
+to long for my country and feel sentiments about it; and I said
+words about Salvador that you wouldn't think could come legitimate
+out of an ice factory.
+
+"And while I was sitting there, down through the blazing sunshine in
+his clean, white clothes comes Maximilian Jones, an American
+interested in rubber and rosewood.
+
+"'Great carrambos!' says I, when he stepped in, for I was in a bad
+temper, 'didn't I have catastrophes enough? I know what you want.
+You want to tell me that story again about Johnny Ammiger and the
+widow on the train. You've told it nine times already this month.'
+
+"'It must be the heat,' says Jones, stopping in at the door, amazed.
+'Poor Billy. He's got bugs. Sitting on ice, and calling his best
+friends pseudonyms. Hi!--_muchacho!_' Jones called my force of
+employees, who was sitting in the sun, playing with his toes, and
+told him to put on his trousers and run for the doctor.
+
+"'Come back,' says I. 'Sit down, Maxy, and forget it. 'Tis not
+ice you see, nor a lunatic upon it. 'Tis only an exile full of
+homesickness sitting on a lump of glass that's just cost him a
+thousand dollars. Now, what was it Johnny said to the widow first?
+I'd like to hear it again, Maxy--honest. Don't mind what I said.'
+
+"Maximilian Jones and I sat down and talked. He was about as sick of
+the country as I was, for the grafters were squeezing him for half
+the profits of his rosewood and rubber. Down in the bottom of a tank
+of water I had a dozen bottles of sticky Frisco beer; and I fished
+these up, and we fell to talking about home and the flag and Hail
+Columbia and home-fried potatoes; and the drivel we contributed
+would have sickened any man enjoying those blessings. But at that
+time we were out of 'em. You can't appreciate home till you've left
+it, money till it's spent, your wife till she's joined a woman's
+club, nor Old Glory till you see it hanging on a broomstick on the
+shanty of a consul in a foreign town.
+
+"And sitting there me and Maximilian Jones, scratching at our
+prickly heat and kicking at the lizards on the floor, became
+afflicted with a dose of patriotism and affection for our country.
+There was me, Billy Casparis, reduced from a capitalist to a pauper
+by over-addiction to my glass (in the lump), declares my troubles
+off for the present and myself to be an uncrowned sovereign of the
+greatest country on earth. And Maximilian Jones pours out whole drug
+stores of his wrath on oligarchies and potentates in red trousers
+and calico shoes. And we issues a declaration of interference in
+which we guarantee that the fourth day of July shall be celebrated
+in Salvador with all the kinds of salutes, explosions, honours
+of war, oratory, and liquids known to tradition. Yes, neither me
+nor Jones breathed with soul so dead. There shall be rucuses in
+Salvador, we say, and the monkeys had better climb the tallest
+cocoanut trees and the fire department get out its red sashes and
+two tin buckets.
+
+"About this time into the factory steps a native man incriminated
+by the name of General Mary Esperanza Dingo. He was some pumpkin
+both in politics and colour, and the friend of me and Jones. He was
+full of politeness and a kind of intelligence, having picked up
+the latter and managed to preserve the former during a two years'
+residence in Philadelphia studying medicine. For a Salvadorian he
+was not such a calamitous little man, though he always would play
+jack, queen, king, ace, deuce for a straight.
+
+"General Mary sits with us and has a bottle. While he was in the
+States he had acquired a synopsis of the English language and the
+art of admiring our institutions. By and by the General gets up
+and tiptoes to the doors and windows and other stage entrances,
+remarking 'Hist!' at each one. They all do that in Salvador before
+they ask for a drink of water or the time of day, being conspirators
+from the cradle and matinee idols by proclamation.
+
+"'Hist!' says General Dingo again, and then he lays his chest on
+the table quite like Gaspard the Miser. 'Good friends, senores,
+to-morrow will be the great day of Liberty and Independence. The
+hearts of Americans and Salvadorians should beat together. Of your
+history and your great Washington I know. Is it not so?'
+
+"Now, me and Jones thought that nice of the General to remember when
+the Fourth came. It made us feel good. He must have heard the news
+going round in Philadelphia about that disturbance we had with
+England.
+
+"'Yes,' says me and Maxy together, 'we knew it. We were talking
+about it when you came in. And you can bet your bottom concession
+that there'll be fuss and feathers in the air to-morrow. We are few
+in numbers, but the welkin may as well reach out to push the button,
+for it's got to ring.'
+
+"'I, too, shall assist,' says the General, thumping his collar-bone.
+'I, too, am on the side of Liberty. Noble Americans, we will make
+the day one to be never forgotten.'
+
+"'For us American whisky,' says Jones--'none of your Scotch smoke or
+anisada or Three Star Hennessey to-morrow. We'll borrow the consul's
+flag; old man Billfinger shall make orations, and we'll have a
+barbecue on the plaza.'
+
+"'Fireworks,' says I, 'will be scarce; but we'll have all the
+cartridges in the shops for our guns. I've got two navy sixes I
+brought from Denver.'
+
+"'There is one cannon,' said the General; 'one big cannon that will
+go "BOOM!" And three hundred men with rifles to shoot.'
+
+"'Oh, say!' says Jones, 'Generalissimo, you're the real silk
+elastic. We'll make it a joint international celebration. Please,
+General, get a white horse and a blue sash and be grand marshal.'
+
+"'With my sword,' says the General, rolling his eyes. 'I shall ride
+at the head of the brave men who gather in the name of Liberty.'
+
+"'And you might,' we suggest 'see the commandante and advise him
+that we are going to prize things up a bit. We Americans, you know,
+are accustomed to using municipal regulations for gun wadding when
+we line up to help the eagle scream. He might suspend the rules for
+one day. We don't want to get in the calaboose for spanking his
+soldiers if they get in our way, do you see?'
+
+"'Hist!' says General Mary. 'The commandant is with us, heart and
+soul. He will aid us. He is one of us.'
+
+"We made all the arrangements that afternoon. There was a buck coon
+from Georgia in Salvador who had drifted down there from a busted-up
+coloured colony that had been started on some possumless land in
+Mexico. As soon as he heard us say 'barbecue' he wept for joy and
+groveled on the ground. He dug his trench on the plaza, and got half
+a beef on the coals for an all-night roast. Me and Maxy went to see
+the rest of the Americans in the town and they all sizzled like a
+seidlitz with joy at the idea of solemnizing an old-time Fourth.
+
+"There were six of us all together--Martin Dillard, a coffee
+planter; Henry Barnes, a railroad man; old man Billfinger, an
+educated tintype taker; me and Jonesy, and Jerry, the boss of the
+barbecue. There was also an Englishman in town named Sterrett, who
+was there to write a book on Domestic Architecture of the Insect
+World. We felt some bashfulness about inviting a Britisher to help
+crow over his own country, but we decided to risk it, out of our
+personal regard for him.
+
+"We found Sterrett in pajamas working at his manuscript with a
+bottle of brandy for a paper weight.
+
+"'Englishman,' says Jones, 'let us interrupt your disquisition
+on bug houses for a moment. To-morrow is the Fourth of July. We
+don't want to hurt your feelings, but we're going to commemorate
+the day when we licked you by a little refined debauchery and
+nonsense--something that can be heard above five miles off. If you
+are broad-gauged enough to taste whisky at your own wake, we'd be
+pleased to have you join us.'
+
+"'Do you know,' says Sterrett, setting his glasses on his nose, 'I
+like your cheek in asking me if I'll join you; blast me if I don't.
+You might have known I would, without asking. Not as a traitor to my
+own country, but for the intrinsic joy of a blooming row.'
+
+"On the morning of the Fourth I woke up in that old shanty of an
+ice factory feeling sore. I looked around at the wreck of all I
+possessed, and my heart was full of bile. From where I lay on my
+cot I could look through the window and see the consul's old ragged
+Stars and Stripes hanging over his shack. 'You're all kinds of a
+fool, Billy Casparis,' I says to myself; 'and of all your crimes
+against sense it does look like this idea of celebrating the Fourth
+should receive the award of demerit. Your business is busted up,
+your thousand dollars is gone into the kitty of this corrupt country
+on that last bluff you made, you've got just fifteen Chili dollars
+left, worth forty-six cents each at bedtime last night and steadily
+going down. To-day you'll blow in your last cent hurrahing for that
+flag, and to-morrow you'll be living on bananas from the stalk and
+screwing your drinks out of your friends. What's the flag done for
+you? While you were under it you worked for what you got. You wore
+your finger nails down skinning suckers, and salting mines, and
+driving bears and alligators off your town lot additions. How much
+does patriotism count for on deposit when the little man with the
+green eye-shade in the savings-bank adds up your book? Suppose
+you were to get pinched over here in this irreligious country
+for some little crime or other, and appealed to your country for
+protection--what would it do for you? Turn your appeal over to a
+committee of one railroad man, an army officer, a member of each
+labour union, and a coloured man to investigate whether any of your
+ancestors were ever related to a cousin of Mark Hanna, and then
+file the papers in the Smithsonian Institution until after the next
+election. That's the kind of a sidetrack the Stars and Stripes would
+switch you onto.'
+
+"You can see that I was feeling like an indigo plant; but after
+I washed my face in some cool water, and got out my navys and
+ammunition, and started up to the Saloon of the Immaculate Saints
+where we were to meet, I felt better. And when I saw those other
+American boys come swaggering into the trysting place--cool, easy,
+conspicuous fellows, ready to risk any kind of a one-card draw, or
+to fight grizzlies, fire, or extradition, I began to feel glad I was
+one of 'em. So, I says to myself again: 'Billy, you've got fifteen
+dollars and a country left this morning--blow in the dollars and
+blow up the town as an American gentleman should on Independence
+Day.'
+
+"It is my recollection that we began the day along conventional
+lines. The six of us--for Sterrett was along--made progress among
+the cantinas, divesting the bars as we went of all strong drink
+bearing American labels. We kept informing the atmosphere as to
+the glory and preeminence of the United States and its ability to
+subdue, outjump, and eradicate the other nations of the earth. And,
+as the findings of American labels grew more plentiful, we became
+more contaminated with patriotism. Maximilian Jones hopes that our
+late foe, Mr. Sterrett, will not take offense at our enthusiasm. He
+sets down his bottle and shakes Sterrett's hand. 'As white man to
+white man,' says he, 'denude our uproar of the slightest taint of
+personality. Excuse us for Bunker Hill, Patrick Henry, and Waldorf
+Astor, and such grievances as might lie between us as nations.'
+
+"'Fellow hoodlums,' says Sterrett, 'on behalf of the Queen I ask
+you to cheese it. It is an honour to be a guest at disturbing the
+peace under the American flag. Let us chant the passionate strains
+of "Yankee Doodle" while the senor behind the bar mitigates the
+occasion with another round of cochineal and aqua fortis.'
+
+"Old Man Billfinger, being charged with a kind of rhetoric, makes
+speeches every time we stop. We explained to such citizens as we
+happened to step on that we were celebrating the dawn of our own
+private brand of liberty, and to please enter such inhumanities as
+we might commit on the list of unavoidable casualties.
+
+"About eleven o'clock our bulletins read: 'A considerable rise in
+temperature, accompanied by thirst and other alarming symptoms.' We
+hooked arms and stretched our line across the narrow streets, all
+of us armed with Winchesters and navys for purposes of noise and
+without malice. We stopped on a street corner and fired a dozen or
+so rounds, and began a serial assortment of United States whoops and
+yells, probably the first ever heard in that town.
+
+"When we made that noise things began to liven up. We heard a
+pattering up a side street, and here came General Mary Esperanza
+Dingo on a white horse with a couple of hundred brown boys following
+him in red undershirts and bare feet, dragging guns ten feet long.
+Jones and me had forgot all about General Mary and his promise to
+help us celebrate. We fired another salute and gave another yell,
+while the General shook hands with us and waved his sword.
+
+"'Oh, General,' shouts Jones, 'this is great. This will be a real
+pleasure to the eagle. Get down and have a drink.'
+
+"'Drink?' says the general. 'No. There is no time to drink. _Viva
+la Libertad!_'
+
+"'Don't forget _E Pluribus Unum!_' says Henry Barnes.
+
+"'_Viva_ it good and strong,' says I. 'Likewise, _viva_ George
+Washington. God save the Union, and,' I says, bowing to Sterrett,
+'don't discard the Queen.'
+
+"'Thanks,' says Sterrett. 'The next round's mine. All in to the bar.
+Army, too.'
+
+"But we were deprived of Sterrett's treat by a lot of gunshots
+several squares sway, which General Dingo seemed to think he ought
+to look after. He spurred his old white plug up that way, and the
+soldiers scuttled along after him.
+
+"'Mary is a real tropical bird,' says Jones. 'He's turned out the
+infantry to help us do honour to the Fourth. We'll get that cannon
+he spoke of after a while and fire some window-breakers with it.
+But just now I want some of that barbecued beef. Let us on to the
+plaza.'
+
+"There we found the meat gloriously done, and Jerry waiting,
+anxious. We sat around on the grass, and got hunks of it on our tin
+plates. Maximilian Jones, always made tender-hearted by drink, cried
+some because George Washington couldn't be there to enjoy the day.
+'There was a man I love, Billy,' he says, weeping on my shoulder.
+'Poor George! To think he's gone, and missed the fireworks. A little
+more salt, please, Jerry.'
+
+"From what we could hear, General Dingo seemed to be kindly
+contributing some noise while we feasted. There were guns going off
+around town, and pretty soon we heard that cannon go 'BOOM!' just as
+he said it would. And then men began to skim along the edge of the
+plaza, dodging in among the orange trees and houses. We certainly
+had things stirred up in Salvador. We felt proud of the occasion and
+grateful to General Dingo. Sterrett was about to take a bite off a
+juicy piece of rib when a bullet took it away from his mouth.
+
+"'Somebody's celebrating with ball cartridges,' says he, reaching
+for another piece. 'Little over-zealous for a non-resident patriot,
+isn't it?'
+
+"'Don't mind it,' I says to him. ''Twas an accident. They happen,
+you know, on the Fourth. After one reading of the Declaration of
+Independence in New York I've known the S. R. O. sign to be hung out
+at all the hospitals and police stations.'
+
+"But then Jerry gives a howl and jumps up with one hand clapped to
+the back of his leg where another bullet has acted over-zealous. And
+then comes a quantity of yells, and round a corner and across the
+plaza gallops General Mary Esperanza Dingo embracing the neck of his
+horse, with his men running behind him, mostly dropping their guns
+by way of discharging ballast. And chasing 'em all is a company of
+feverish little warriors wearing blue trousers and caps.
+
+"'Assistance, amigos,' the General shouts, trying to stop his horse.
+'Assistance, in the name of Liberty!'
+
+"'That's the Compania Azul, the President's bodyguard,' says Jones.
+'What a shame! They've jumped on poor old Mary just because he was
+helping us to celebrate. Come on, boys, it's our Fourth;--do we let
+that little squad of A.D.T's break it up?'
+
+"'I vote No,' says Martin Dillard, gathering his Winchester. 'It's
+the privilege of an American citizen to drink, drill, dress up, and
+be dreadful on the Fourth of July, no matter whose country he's in.'
+
+"'Fellow citizens!' says old man Billfinger, 'In the darkest hour
+of Freedom's birth, when our brave forefathers promulgated the
+principles of undying liberty, they never expected that a bunch of
+blue jays like that should be allowed to bust up an anniversary. Let
+us preserve and protect the Constitution.'
+
+"We made it unanimous, and then we gathered our guns and assaulted
+the blue troops in force. We fired over their heads, and then
+charged 'em with a yell, and they broke and ran. We were irritated
+at having our barbecue disturbed, and we chased 'em a quarter of a
+mile. Some of 'em we caught and kicked hard. The General rallied his
+troops and joined in the chase. Finally they scattered in a thick
+banana grove, and we couldn't flush a single one. So we sat down and
+rested.
+
+"If I were to be put, severe, through the third degree, I wouldn't
+be able to tell much about the rest of the day. I mind that we
+pervaded the town considerable, calling upon the people to bring out
+more armies for us to destroy. I remember seeing a crowd somewhere,
+and a tall man that wasn't Billfinger making a Fourth of July speech
+from a balcony. And that was about all.
+
+"Somebody must have hauled the old ice factory up to where I was,
+and put it around me, for there's where I was when I woke up the
+next morning. As soon as I could recollect by name and address I got
+up and held an inquest. My last cent was gone. I was all in.
+
+"And then a neat black carriage drives to the door, and out steps
+General Dingo and a bay man in a silk hat and tan shoes.
+
+"'Yes,' says I to myself, 'I see it now. You're the Chief de
+Policeos and High Lord Chamberlain of the Calaboosum; and you want
+Billy Casparis for excess of patriotism and assault with intent. All
+right. Might as well be in jail, anyhow.'
+
+"But it seems that General Mary is smiling, and the bay man shakes
+my hand, and speaks in the American dialect.
+
+"'General Dingo has informed me, Senor Casparis, of your gallant
+service in our cause. I desire to thank you with my person. The
+bravery of you and the other senores Americanos turned the struggle
+for liberty in our favour. Our party triumphed. The terrible battle
+will live forever in history.
+
+"'Battle?' says I; 'what battle?' and I ran my mind back along
+history, trying to think.
+
+"'Senor Casparis is modest,' says General Dingo. 'He led his brave
+compadres into the thickest of the fearful conflict. Yes. Without
+their aid the revolution would have failed.'
+
+"'Why, now,' says I, 'don't tell me there was a revolution
+yesterday. That was only a Fourth of--'
+
+"But right there I abbreviated. It seemed to me it might be best.
+
+"'After the terrible struggle,' says the bay man, 'President Bolano
+was forced to fly. To-day Caballo is President by proclamation. Ah,
+yes. Beneath the new administration I am the head of the Department
+of Mercantile Concessions. On my file I find one report, Senor
+Casparis, that you have not made ice in accord with your contract.'
+And here the bay man smiles at me, 'cute.
+
+"'Oh, well,' says I, 'I guess the report's straight. I know they
+caught me. That's all there is to it.'
+
+"'Do not say so,' says the bay man. He pulls off a glove and goes
+over and lays his hand on that chunk of glass.
+
+"'Ice,' says he, nodding his head, solemn.
+
+"General Dingo also steps over and feels of it.
+
+"'Ice,' says the General; 'I'll swear to it.'
+
+"'If Senor Casparis,' says the bay man, 'will present himself to the
+treasury on the sixth day of this month he will receive back the
+thousand dollars he did deposit as a forfeit. Adios, senor.'
+
+"The General and the bay man bowed themselves out, and I bowed as
+often as they did.
+
+"And when the carriage rolls away through the sand I bows once more,
+deeper than ever, till my hat touches the ground. But this time
+'twas not intended for them. For, over their heads, I saw the old
+flag fluttering in the breeze above the consul's roof; and 'twas to
+it I made my profoundest salute."
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+THE EMANCIPATION OF BILLY
+
+
+In the old, old, square-porticoed mansion, with the wry
+window-shutters and the paint peeling off in discoloured flakes,
+lived one of the last of the war governors.
+
+The South has forgotten the enmity of the great conflict, but it
+refuses to abandon its old traditions and idols. In "Governor"
+Pemberton, as he was still fondly called, the inhabitants of
+Elmville saw the relic of their state's ancient greatness and glory.
+In his day he had been a man large in the eye of his country. His
+state had pressed upon him every honour within its gift. And now
+when he was old, and enjoying a richly merited repose outside the
+swift current of public affairs, his townsmen loved to do him
+reverence for the sake of the past.
+
+The Governor's decaying "mansion" stood upon the main street of
+Elmville within a few feet of its rickety paling-fence. Every
+morning the Governor would descend the steps with extreme care and
+deliberation--on account of his rheumatism--and then the click of
+his gold-headed cane would be heard as he slowly proceeded up the
+rugged brick sidewalk. He was now nearly seventy-eight, but he had
+grown old gracefully and beautifully. His rather long, smooth hair
+and flowing, parted whiskers were snow-white. His full-skirted
+frock-croak was always buttoned snugly about his tall, spare
+figure. He wore a high, well-kept silk hat--known as a "plug" in
+Elmville--and nearly always gloves. His manners were punctilious,
+and somewhat overcharged with courtesy.
+
+The Governor's walks up Lee Avenue, the principal street, developed
+in their course into a sort of memorial, triumphant procession.
+Everyone he met saluted him with profound respect. Many would remove
+their hats. Those who were honoured with his personal friendship
+would pause to shake hands, and then you would see exemplified the
+genuine _beau ideal_ Southern courtesy.
+
+Upon reaching the corner of the second square from the mansion, the
+Governor would pause. Another street crossed the venue there, and
+traffic, to the extent of several farmers' wagons and a peddler's
+cart or two, would rage about the junction. Then the falcon eye of
+General Deffenbaugh would perceive the situation, and the General
+would hasten, with ponderous solicitude, from his office in the
+First National Bank building to the assistance of his old friend.
+
+When the two exchanged greetings the decay of modern manners would
+become accusingly apparent. The General's bulky and commanding
+figure would bend lissomely at a point where you would have regarded
+its ability to do so with incredulity. The Governor would take the
+General's arm and be piloted safely between the hay-wagons and the
+sprinkling-cart to the other side of the street. Proceeding to the
+post-office in the care of his friend, the esteemed statesmen would
+there hold an informal levee among the citizens who were come for
+their morning mail. Here, gathering two or three prominent in law,
+politics, or family, the pageant would make a stately progress along
+the Avenue, stopping at the Palace Hotel, where, perhaps, would be
+found upon the register the name of some guest deemed worthy of an
+introduction to the state's venerable and illustrious son. If any
+such were found, an hour or two would be spent in recalling the
+faded glories of the Governor's long-vanished administration.
+
+On the return march the General would invariably suggest that, His
+Excellency being no doubt fatigued, it would be wise to recuperate
+for a few minutes at the Drug Emporium of Mr. Appleby R. Fentress
+(an elegant gentleman, sir--one of the Chatham County Fentresses--so
+many of our best-blooded families have had to go into trade, sir,
+since the war).
+
+Mr. Appleby R. Fentress was a _connoisseur_ in fatigue. Indeed,
+if he had not been, his memory alone should have enabled him to
+prescribe, for the majestic invasion of his pharmacy was a casual
+happening that had surprised him almost daily for years. Mr.
+Fentress knew the formula of, and possessed the skill to compound,
+a certain potion antagonistic to fatigue, the salient ingredient of
+which he described (no doubt in pharmaceutical terms) as "genuine
+old hand-made Clover Leaf '59, Private Stock."
+
+Nor did the ceremony of administering the potion ever vary. Mr.
+Fentress would first compound two of the celebrated mixtures--one
+for the Governor, and the other for the General to "sample." Then
+the Governor would make this little speech in his high, piping,
+quavering voice:
+
+"No, sir--not one drop until you have prepared one for yourself and
+join us, Mr. Fentress. Your father, sir, was one of my most valued
+supporters and friends during My Administration, and any mark of
+esteem I can confer upon his son is not only a pleasure but a duty,
+sir."
+
+Blushing with delight at the royal condescension, the druggist would
+obey, and all would drink to the General's toast: "The prosperity of
+our grand old state, gentlemen--the memory of her glorious past--the
+health of her Favourite Son."
+
+Some one of the Old Guard was always at hand to escort the Governor
+home. Sometimes the General's business duties denied him the
+privilege, and then Judge Broomfield or Colonel Titus, or one of the
+Ashford County Slaughters would be on hand to perform the rite.
+
+Such were the observances attendant upon the Governor's morning
+stroll to the post-office. How much more magnificent, impressive,
+and spectacular, then, was the scene at public functions when
+the General would lead forth the silver-haired relic of former
+greatness, like some rare and fragile waxwork figure, and trumpet
+his pristine eminence to his fellow citizens!
+
+General Deffenbaugh was the Voice of Elmville. Some said he was
+Elmville. At any rate, he had no competitor as the Mouthpiece. He
+owned enough stock in the _Daily Banner_ to dictate its utterance,
+enough shares in the First National Bank to be the referee of its
+loans, and a war record that left him without a rival for first
+place at barbecues, school commencements, and Decoration Days.
+Besides these acquirements he was possessed with endowments. His
+personality was inspiring and triumphant. Undisputed sway had
+moulded him to the likeness of a fatted Roman emperor. The tones of
+his voice were not otherwise than clarion. To say that the General
+was public-spirited would fall short of doing him justice. He
+had spirit enough for a dozen publics. And as a sure foundation
+for it all, he had a heart that was big and stanch. Yes; General
+Deffenbaugh was Elmville.
+
+One little incident that usually occurred during the Governor's
+morning walk has had its chronicling delayed by more important
+matters. The procession was accustomed to halt before a small brick
+office on the Avenue, fronted by a short flight of steep wooden
+steps. A modest tin sign over the door bore the words: "Wm. B.
+Pemberton: Attorney-at-Law."
+
+Looking inside, the General would roar: "Hello, Billy, my boy." The
+less distinguished members of the escort would call: "Morning,
+Billy." The Governor would pipe: "Good morning, William."
+
+Then a patient-looking little man with hair turning gray along the
+temples would come down the steps and shake hands with each one of
+the party. All Elmville shook hands when it met.
+
+The formalities concluded, the little man would go back to his
+table, heaped with law books and papers, while the procession would
+proceed.
+
+Billy Pemberton was, as his sign declared, a lawyer by profession.
+By occupation and common consent he was the Son of his Father.
+This was the shadow in which Billy lived, the pit out of which he
+had unsuccessfully striven for years to climb and, he had come
+to believe, the grave in which his ambitions were destined to be
+buried. Filial respect and duty he paid beyond the habit of most
+sons, but he aspired to be known and appraised by his own deeds and
+worth.
+
+After many years of tireless labour he had become known in certain
+quarters far from Elmville as a master of the principles of the law.
+Twice he had gone to Washington and argued cases before the highest
+tribunal with such acute logic and learning that the silken gowns
+on the bench had rustled from the force of it. His income from his
+practice had grown until he was able to support his father, in the
+old family mansion (which neither of them would have thought of
+abandoning, rickety as it was) in the comfort and almost the luxury
+of the old extravagant days. Yet, he remained to Elmville as only
+"Billy" Pemberton, the son of our distinguished and honoured
+fellow-townsman, "ex-Governor Pemberton." Thus was he introduced at
+public gatherings where he sometimes spoke, haltingly and prosily,
+for his talents were too serious and deep for extempore brilliancy;
+thus was he presented to strangers and to the lawyers who made the
+circuit of the courts; and so the _Daily Banner_ referred to him
+in print. To be "the son of" was his doom. What ever he should
+accomplish would have to be sacrificed upon the altar of this
+magnificent but fatal parental precedence.
+
+The peculiarity and the saddest thing about Billy's ambition was
+that the only world he thirsted to conquer was Elmville. His nature
+was diffident and unassuming. National or State honours might
+have oppressed him. But, above all things, he hungered for the
+appreciation of the friends among whom he had been born and raised.
+He would not have plucked one leaf from the garlands that were so
+lavishly bestowed upon his father, he merely rebelled against having
+his own wreathes woven from those dried and self-same branches. But
+Elmville "Billied" and "sonned" him to his concealed but lasting
+chagrin, until at length he grew more reserved and formal and
+studious than ever.
+
+There came a morning when Billy found among his mail a letter from
+a very high source, tendering him the appointment to an important
+judicial position in the new island possessions of our country. The
+honour was a distinguished one, for the entire nation had discussed
+the probable recipients of these positions, and had agreed that the
+situation demanded only men of the highest character, ripe learning,
+and evenly balanced mind.
+
+Billy could not subdue a certain exultation at this token of the
+success of his long and arduous labours, but, at the same time, a
+whimsical smile lingered around his mouth, for he foresaw in which
+column Elmville would place the credit. "We congratulate Governor
+Pemberton upon the mark of appreciation conferred upon his
+son"--"Elmville rejoices with our honoured citizen, Governor
+Pemberton, at his son's success"--"Put her there, Billy!"--"Judge
+Billy Pemberton, sir; son of our State's war hero and the people's
+pride!"--these were the phrases, printed and oral, conjured up by
+Billy's prophetic fancy. Grandson of his State, and stepchild to
+Elmville--thus had fate fixed his kinship to the body politic.
+
+Billy lived with his father in the old mansion. The two and an
+elderly lady--a distant relative--comprised the family. Perhaps,
+though, old Jeff, the Governor's ancient coloured body-servant,
+should be included. Without doubt, he could have claimed the honour.
+There were other servants, but Thomas Jefferson Pemberton, sah, was
+a member of "de fambly."
+
+Jeff was the one Elmvillian who gave to Billy the gold of approval
+unmixed with the alloy of paternalism. To him "Mars William" was
+the greatest man in Talbot County. Beaten upon though he was by the
+shining light that emanates from an ex-war governor, and loyal as he
+remained to the old _regime_, his faith and admiration were Billy's.
+As valet to a hero, and a member of the family, he may have had
+superior opportunities for judging.
+
+Jeff was the first one to whom Bill revealed the news. When he
+reached home for supper Jeff took his "plug" hat and smoothed it
+before hanging it upon the hall-rack.
+
+"Dar now!" said the old man: "I knowed it was er comin'. I knowed it
+was gwine ter happen. Er Judge, you says, Mars William? Dem Yankees
+done made you er judge? It's high time, sah, dey was doin' somep'n
+to make up for dey rascality endurin' de war. I boun' dey holds a
+confab and says: 'Le's make Mars William Pemberton er judge, and
+dat'll settle it.' Does you have to go way down to dem Fillypines,
+Mars William, or kin you judge 'em from here?"
+
+"I'd have to live there most of the time, of course," said Billy.
+
+"I wonder what de Gubnor gwine say 'bout dat," speculated Jeff.
+
+Billy wondered too.
+
+After supper, when the two sat in the library, according to their
+habit, the Governor smoking his clay pipe and Billy his cigar, the
+son dutifully confessed to having been tendered the appointment.
+
+For a long time the Governor sat, smoking, without making any
+comment. Billy reclined in his favourite rocker, waiting, perhaps
+still flushed with satisfaction over the tender that had come to
+him, unsolicited, in his dingy little office, above the heads of the
+intriguing, time-serving, clamorous multitude.
+
+At last the Governor spoke; and, though his words were seemingly
+irrelevant, they were to the point. His voice had a note of
+martyrdom running through its senile quaver.
+
+"My rheumatism has been growing steadily worse these past months,
+William."
+
+"I am sorry, father," said Billy, gently.
+
+"And I am nearly seventy-eight. I am getting to be an old man. I can
+recall the names of but two or three who were in public life during
+My Administration. What did you say is the nature of this position
+that is offered you, William?"
+
+"A Federal Judgeship, father. I believe it is considered to be a
+somewhat flattering tender. It is outside of politics and
+wire-pulling, you know."
+
+"No doubt, no doubt. Few of the Pembertons have engaged in
+professional life for nearly a century. None of them have ever held
+Federal positions. They have been land-holders, slave-owners, and
+planters on a large scale. One of two of the Derwents--your mother's
+family--were in the law. Have you decided to accept this
+appointment, William?"
+
+"I am thinking it over," said Billy, slowly, regarding the ash of
+his cigar.
+
+"You have been a good son to me," continued the Governor, stirring
+his pipe with the handle of a penholder.
+
+"I've been your son all my life," said Billy, darkly.
+
+"I am often gratified," piped the Governor, betraying a touch of
+complacency, "by being congratulated upon having a son with such
+sound and sterling qualities. Especially in this, our native town,
+is your name linked with mine in the talk of our citizens."
+
+"I never knew anyone to forget the vindculum," murmured Billy,
+unintelligibly.
+
+"Whatever prestige," pursued the parent, "I may be possessed of,
+by virtue of my name and services to the state, has been yours to
+draw upon freely. I have not hesitated to exert it in your behalf
+whenever opportunity offered. And you have deserved it, William.
+You've been the best of sons. And now this appointment comes to take
+you away from me. I have but a few years left to live. I am almost
+dependent upon others now, even in walking and dressing. What would
+I do without you, my son?"
+
+The Governor's pipe dropped to the floor. A tear trickled from his
+eye. His voice had risen, and crumbled to a weakling falsetto, and
+ceased. He was an old, old man about to be bereft of a son that
+cherished him.
+
+Billy rose, and laid his hand upon the Governor's shoulder.
+
+"Don't worry, father," he said, cheerfully. "I'm not going to
+accept. Elmville is good enough for me. I'll write to-night and
+decline it."
+
+At the next interchange of devoirs between the Governor and General
+Deffenbaugh on Lee Avenue, His Excellency, with a comfortable air of
+self-satisfaction, spoke of the appointment that had been tendered
+to Billy.
+
+The General whistled.
+
+"That's a plum for Billy," he shouted. "Who'd have thought that
+Billy--but, confound it, it's been in him all the time. It's a boost
+for Elmville. It'll send real estate up. It's an honour to our
+state. It's a compliment to the South. We've all been blind about
+Billy. When does he leave? We must have a reception. Great Gatlings!
+that job's eight thousand a year! There's been a car-load of
+lead-pencils worn to stubs figuring on those appointments. Think of
+it! Our little, wood-sawing, mealy-mouthed Billy! Angel unawares
+doesn't begin to express it. Elmville is disgraced forever until she
+lines up in a hurry for ratification and apology."
+
+The venerable Moloch smiled fatuously. He carried the fire with
+which to consume all these tributes to Billy, the smoke of which
+would ascend as an incense to himself.
+
+"William," said the Governor, with modest pride, "has declined the
+appointment. He refuses to leave me in my old age. He is a good
+son."
+
+The General swung round, and laid a large forefinger upon the bosom
+of his friend. Much of the General's success had been due to his
+dexterity in establishing swift lines of communication between cause
+and effect.
+
+"Governor," he said, with a keen look in his big, ox-like eyes,
+"you've been complaining to Billy about your rheumatism."
+
+"My dear General," replied the Governor, stiffly, "my son is
+forty-two. He is quite capable of deciding such questions for
+himself. And I, as his parent, feel it my duty to state that your
+remark about--er--rheumatism is a mighty poor shot from a very small
+bore, sir, aimed at a purely personal and private affliction."
+
+"If you will allow me," retorted the General, "you've afflicted the
+public with it for some time; and 'twas no small bore, at that."
+
+This first tiff between the two old comrades might have grown into
+something more serious, but for the fortunate interruption caused by
+the ostentatious approach of Colonel Titus and another one of the
+court retinue from the right county, to whom the General confided
+the coddled statesman and went his way.
+
+After Billy had so effectually entombed his ambitions, and taken the
+veil, so to speak, in a sonnery, he was surprised to discover how
+much lighter of heart and happier he felt. He realized what a long,
+restless struggle he had maintained, and how much he had lost by
+failing to cull the simple but wholesome pleasures by the way. His
+heart warmed now to Elmville and the friends who had refused to
+set him upon a pedestal. It was better, he began to think, to be
+"Billy" and his father's son, and to be hailed familiarly by cheery
+neighbours and grown-up playmates, than to be "Your Honour," and sit
+among strangers, hearing, maybe, through the arguments of learned
+counsel, that old man's feeble voice crying: "What would I do
+without you, my son?"
+
+Billy began to surprise his acquaintances by whistling as he walked
+up the street; others he astounded by slapping them disrespectfully
+upon their backs and raking up old anecdotes he had not had the time
+to recollect for years. Though he hammered away at his law cases
+as thoroughly as ever, he found more time for relaxation and the
+company of his friends. Some of the younger set were actually after
+him to join the golf club. A striking proof of his abandonment to
+obscurity was his adoption of a most undignified, rakish, little
+soft hat, reserving the "plug" for Sundays and state occasions.
+Billy was beginning to enjoy Elmville, though that irreverent burgh
+had neglected to crown him with bay and myrtle.
+
+All the while uneventful peace pervaded Elmville. The Governor
+continued to make his triumphal parades to the post-office with the
+General as chief marshal, for the slight squall that had rippled
+their friendship had, to all indications, been forgotten by both.
+
+But one day Elmville woke to sudden excitement. The news had come
+that a touring presidential party would honour Elmville by a
+twenty-minute stop. The Executive had promised a five-minute address
+from the balcony of the Palace Hotel.
+
+Elmville arose as one man--that man being, of course, General
+Deffenbaugh--to receive becomingly the chieftain of all the clans.
+The train with the tiny Stars and Stripes fluttering from the
+engine pilot arrived. Elmville had done her best. There were bands,
+flowers, carriages, uniforms, banners, and committees without end.
+High-school girls in white frocks impeded the steps of the party
+with roses strewn nervously in bunches. The chieftain had seen it
+all before--scores of times. He could have pictured it exactly in
+advance, from the Blue-and-Gray speech down to the smallest rosebud.
+Yet his kindly smile of interest greeted Elmville's display as if it
+had been the only and original.
+
+In the upper rotunda of the Palace Hotel the town's most
+illustrious were assembled for the honour of being presented to the
+distinguished guests previous to the expected address. Outside,
+Elmville's inglorious but patriotic masses filled the streets.
+
+Here, in the hotel General Deffenbaugh was holding in reserve
+Elmville's trump card. Elmville knew; for the trump was a fixed one,
+and its lead consecrated by archaic custom.
+
+At the proper moment Governor Pemberton, beautifully venerable,
+magnificently antique, tall, paramount, stepped forward upon the arm
+of the General.
+
+Elmville watched and harked with bated breath. Never until now--when
+a Northern President of the United States should clasp hands with
+ex-war-Governor Pemberton would the breach be entirely closed--would
+the country be made one and indivisible--no North, not much South,
+very little East, and no West to speak of. So Elmville excitedly
+scraped kalsomine from the walls of the Palace Hotel with its Sunday
+best, and waited for the Voice to speak.
+
+And Billy! We had nearly forgotten Billy. He was cast for Son, and
+he waited patiently for his cue. He carried his "plug" in his hand,
+and felt serene. He admired his father's striking air and pose.
+After all, it was a great deal to be a son of a man who could so
+gallantly hold the position of a cynosure for three generations.
+
+General Deffenbaugh cleared his throat. Elmville opened its mouth,
+and squirmed. The chieftain with the kindly, fateful face was
+holding out his hand, smiling. Ex-war-Governor Pemberton extended
+his own across the chasm. But what was this the General was saying?
+
+"Mr. President, allow me to present to you one who has the honour to
+be the father of our foremost, distinguished citizen, learned and
+honoured jurist, beloved townsman, and model Southern gentleman--the
+Honourable William B. Pemberton."
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+THE ENCHANTED KISS
+
+
+But a clerk in the Cut-rate Drug Store was Samuel Tansey, yet
+his slender frame was a pad that enfolded the passion of Romeo,
+the gloom of Laura, the romance of D'Artagnan, and the desperate
+inspiration of Melnotte. Pity, then, that he had been denied
+expression, that he was doomed to the burden of utter timidity and
+diffidence, that Fate had set him tongue-tied and scarlet before
+the muslin-clad angels whom he adored and vainly longed to rescue,
+clasp, comfort, and subdue.
+
+The clock's hands were pointing close upon the hour of ten while
+Tansey was playing billiards with a number of his friends. On
+alternate evenings he was released from duty at the store after
+seven o'clock. Even among his fellow-men Tansey was timorous and
+constrained. In his imagination he had done valiant deeds and
+performed acts of distinguished gallantry; but in fact he was a
+sallow youth of twenty-three, with an over-modest demeanour and
+scant vocabulary.
+
+When the clock struck ten, Tansey hastily laid down his cue and
+struck sharply upon the show-case with a coin for the attendant to
+come and receive the pay for his score.
+
+"What's your hurry, Tansey?" called one. "Got another engagement?"
+
+"Tansey got an engagement!" echoed another. "Not on your life.
+Tansey's got to get home at Motten by her Peek's orders."
+
+"It's no such thing," chimed in a pale youth, taking a large cigar
+from his mouth; "Tansey's afraid to be late because Miss Katie might
+come down stairs to unlock the door, and kiss him in the hall."
+
+This delicate piece of raillery sent a fiery tingle into Tansey's
+blood, for the indictment was true--barring the kiss. That was a
+thing to dream of; to wildly hope for; but too remote and sacred a
+thing to think of lightly.
+
+Casting a cold and contemptuous look at the speaker--a punishment
+commensurate with his own diffident spirit--Tansey left the room,
+descending the stairs into the street.
+
+For two years he had silently adored Miss Peek, worshipping her from
+a spiritual distance through which her attractions took on stellar
+brightness and mystery. Mrs. Peek kept a few choice boarders, among
+whom was Tansey. The other young men romped with Katie, chased her
+with crickets in their fingers, and "jollied" her with an irreverent
+freedom that turned Tansey's heart into cold lead in his bosom.
+The signs of his adoration were few--a tremulous "Good morning,"
+stealthy glances at her during meals, and occasionally (Oh,
+rapture!) a blushing, delirious game of cribbage with her in the
+parlour on some rare evening when a miraculous lack of engagement
+kept her at home. Kiss him in the hall! Aye, he feared it, but it
+was an ecstatic fear such as Elijah must have felt when the chariot
+lifted him into the unknown.
+
+But to-night the gibes of his associates had stung him to a feeling
+of forward, lawless mutiny; a defiant, challenging, atavistic
+recklessness. Spirit of corsair, adventurer, lover, poet,
+bohemian, possessed him. The stars he saw above him seemed no more
+unattainable, no less high, than the favour of Miss Peek or the
+fearsome sweetness of her delectable lips. His fate seemed to him
+strangely dramatic and pathetic, and to call for a solace consonant
+with its extremity. A saloon was near by, and to this he flitted,
+calling for absinthe--beyond doubt the drink most adequate to his
+mood--the tipple of the roue, the abandoned, the vainly sighing
+lover.
+
+Once he drank of it, and again, and then again until he felt a
+strange, exalted sense of non-participation in worldly affairs
+pervade him. Tansey was no drinker; his consumption of three
+absinthe anisettes within almost as few minutes proclaimed his
+unproficiency in the art; Tansey was merely flooding with unproven
+liquor his sorrows; which record and tradition alleged to be
+drownable.
+
+Coming out upon the sidewalk, he snapped his fingers defiantly in
+the direction of the Peek homestead, turned the other way, and
+voyaged, Columbus-like into the wilds of an enchanted street. Nor is
+the figure exorbitant, for, beyond his store the foot of Tansey had
+scarcely been set for years--store and boarding-house; between these
+ports he was chartered to run, and contrary currents had rarely
+deflected his prow.
+
+Tansey aimlessly protracted his walk, and, whether it was his
+unfamiliarity with the district, his recent accession of audacious
+errantry, or the sophistical whisper of a certain green-eyed
+fairy, he came at last to tread a shuttered, blank, and echoing
+thoroughfare, dark and unpeopled. And, suddenly, this way came to an
+end (as many streets do in the Spanish-built, archaic town of San
+Antone), butting its head against an imminent, high, brick wall.
+No--the street still lived! To the right and to the left it breathed
+through slender tubes of exit--narrow, somnolent ravines, cobble
+paved and unlighted. Accommodating a rise in the street to the right
+was reared a phantom flight of five luminous steps of limestone,
+flanked by a wall of the same height and of the same material.
+
+Upon one of these steps Tansey seated himself and bethought him of
+his love, and how she might never know she was his love. And of
+Mother Peek, fat, vigilant and kind; not unpleased, Tansey thought,
+that he and Katie should play cribbage in the parlour together.
+For the Cut-rate had not cut his salary, which, sordidly speaking,
+ranked him star boarder at the Peek's. And he thought of Captain
+Peek, Katie's father, a man he dreaded and abhorred; a genteel
+loafer and spendthrift, battening upon the labour of his women-folk;
+a very queer fish, and, according to repute, not of the freshest.
+
+The night had turned chill and foggy. The heart of the town, with
+its noises, was left behind. Reflected from the high vapours, its
+distant lights were manifest in quivering, cone-shaped streamers, in
+questionable blushes of unnamed colours, in unstable, ghostly waves
+of far, electric flashes. Now that the darkness was become more
+friendly, the wall against which the street splintered developed a
+stone coping topped with an armature of spikes. Beyond it loomed
+what appeared to be the acute angles of mountain peaks, pierced here
+and there by little lambent parallelograms. Considering this vista,
+Tansey at length persuaded himself that the seeming mountains were,
+in fact, the convent of Santa Mercedes, with which ancient and
+bulky pile he was better familiar from different coigns of view. A
+pleasant note of singing in his ears reinforced his opinion. High,
+sweet, holy carolling, far and harmonious and uprising, as of
+sanctified nuns at their responses. At what hour did the Sisters
+sing? He tried to think--was it six, eight, twelve? Tansey leaned
+his back against the limestone wall and wondered. Strange things
+followed. The air was full of white, fluttering pigeons that circled
+about, and settled upon the convent wall. The wall blossomed with a
+quantity of shining green eyes that blinked and peered at him from
+the solid masonry. A pink, classic nymph came from an excavation in
+the cavernous road and danced, barefoot and airy, upon the ragged
+flints. The sky was traversed by a company of beribboned cats,
+marching in stupendous, aerial procession. The noise of singing grew
+louder; an illumination of unseasonable fireflies danced past, and
+strange whispers came out of the dark without meaning or excuse.
+
+Without amazement Tansey took note of these phenomena. He was on
+some new plane of understanding, though his mind seemed to him clear
+and, indeed, happily tranquil.
+
+A desire for movement and exploration seized him: he rose and turned
+into the black gash of street to his right. For a time the high
+wall formed one of its boundaries; but further on, two rows of
+black-windowed houses closed it in.
+
+Here was the city's quarter once given over to the Spaniard. Here
+were still his forbidding abodes of concrete and adobe, standing
+cold and indomitable against the century. From the murky fissure,
+the eye saw, flung against the sky, the tangled filigree of
+his Moorish balconies. Through stone archways breaths of dead,
+vault-chilled air coughed upon him; his feet struck jingling
+iron rings in staples stone-buried for half a cycle. Along these
+paltry avenues had swaggered the arrogant Don, had caracoled and
+serenaded and blustered while the tomahawk and the pioneer's rifle
+were already uplifted to expel him from a continent. And Tansey,
+stumbling through this old-world dust, looked up, dark as it was,
+and saw Andalusian beauties glimmering on the balconies. Some of
+them were laughing and listening to the goblin music that still
+followed; others harked fearfully through the night, trying to catch
+the hoof beats of caballeros whose last echoes from those stones had
+died away a century ago. Those women were silent, but Tansey heard
+the jangle of horseless bridle-bits, the whirr of riderless rowels,
+and, now and then, a muttered malediction in a foreign tongue. But
+he was not frightened. Shadows, nor shadows of sounds could daunt
+him. Afraid? No. Afraid of Mother Peek? Afraid to face the girl
+of his heart? Afraid of tipsy Captain Peek? Nay! nor of these
+apparitions, nor of that spectral singing that always pursued him.
+Singing! He would show them! He lifted up a strong and untuneful
+voice:
+
+
+   "When you hear them bells go tingalingling,"
+
+
+serving notice upon those mysterious agencies that if it should come
+to a face-to-face encounter
+
+
+   "There'll be a hot time
+    In the old town
+    To-night!"
+
+
+How long Tansey consumed in treading this haunted byway was not
+clear to him, but in time he emerged into a more commodious avenue.
+When within a few yards of the corner he perceived, through a
+window, that a small confectionary of mean appearance was set in
+the angle. His same glance that estimated its meagre equipment, its
+cheap soda-water fountain and stock of tobacco and sweets, took
+cognizance of Captain Peek within lighting a cigar at a swinging
+gaslight.
+
+As Tansey rounded the corner Captain Peek came out, and they met
+_vis-a-vis_. An exultant joy filled Tansey when he found himself
+sustaining the encounter with implicit courage. Peek, indeed! He
+raised his hand, and snapped his fingers loudly.
+
+It was Peek himself who quailed guiltily before the valiant mien of
+the drug clerk. Sharp surprise and a palpable fear bourgeoned upon
+the Captain's face. And, verily, that face was one to rather call up
+such expressions on the faces of others. The face of a libidinous
+heathen idol, small eyed, with carven folds in the heavy jowls, and
+a consuming, pagan license in its expression. In the gutter just
+beyond the store Tansey saw a closed carriage standing with its back
+toward him and a motionless driver perched in his place.
+
+"Why, it's Tansey!" exclaimed Captain Peek. "How are you, Tansey?
+H-have a cigar, Tansey?"
+
+"Why, it's Peek!" cried Tansey, jubilant at his own temerity.
+"What deviltry are you up to now, Peek? Back streets and a closed
+carriage! Fie! Peek!"
+
+"There's no one in the carriage," said the Captain, smoothly.
+
+"Everybody out of it is in luck," continued Tansey, aggressively.
+"I'd love for you to know, Peek, that I'm not stuck on you. You're a
+bottle-nosed scoundrel."
+
+"Why, the little rat's drunk!" cried the Captain, joyfully; "only
+drunk, and I thought he was on! Go home, Tansey, and quit bothering
+grown persons on the street."
+
+But just then a white-clad figure sprang out of the carriage, and a
+shrill voice--Katie's voice--sliced the air: "Sam! Sam!--help me,
+Sam!"
+
+Tansey sprung toward her, but Captain Peek interposed his bulky
+form. Wonder of wonders! the whilom spiritless youth struck out
+with his right, and the hulking Captain went over in a swearing
+heap. Tansey flew to Katie, and took her in his arms like a
+conquering knight. She raised her face, and he kissed her--violets!
+electricity! caramels! champagne! Here was the attainment of a dream
+that brought no disenchantment.
+
+"Oh, Sam," cried Katie, when she could, "I knew you would come to
+rescue me. What do you suppose the mean things were going to do with
+me?"
+
+"Have your picture taken," said Tansey, wondering at the foolishness
+of his remark.
+
+"No, they were going to eat me. I heard them talking about it."
+
+"Eat you!" said Tansey, after pondering a moment. "That can't be;
+there's no plates."
+
+But a sudden noise warned him to turn. Down upon him were bearing
+the Captain and a monstrous long-bearded dwarf in a spangled cloak
+and red trunk-hose. The dwarf leaped twenty feet and clutched them.
+The Captain seized Katie and hurled her, shrieking, back into the
+carriage, himself followed, and the vehicle dashed away. The dwarf
+lifted Tansey high above his head and ran with him into the store.
+Holding him with one hand, he raised the lid of an enormous chest
+half filled with cakes of ice, flung Tansey inside, and closed down
+the cover.
+
+The force of the fall must have been great, for Tansey lost
+consciousness. When his faculties revived his first sensation was
+one of severe cold along his back and limbs. Opening his eyes, he
+found himself to be seated upon the limestone steps still facing the
+wall and convent of Santa Mercedes. His first thought was of the
+ecstatic kiss from Katie. The outrageous villainy of Captain Peek,
+the unnatural mystery of the situation, his preposterous conflict
+with the improbable dwarf--these things roused and angered him, but
+left no impression of the unreal.
+
+"I'll go back there to-morrow," he grumbled aloud, "and knock the
+head off that comic-opera squab. Running out and picking up perfect
+strangers, and shoving them into cold storage!"
+
+But the kiss remained uppermost in his mind. "I might have done that
+long ago," he mused. "She liked it, too. She called me 'Sam' four
+times. I'll not go up that street again. Too much scrapping. Guess
+I'll move down the other way. Wonder what she meant by saying they
+were going to eat her!"
+
+Tansey began to feel sleepy, but after a while he decided to move
+along again. This time he ventured into the street to his left. It
+ran level for a distance, and then dipped gently downward, opening
+into a vast, dim, barren space--the old Military Plaza. To his left,
+some hundred yards distant, he saw a cluster of flickering lights
+along the Plaza's border. He knew the locality at once.
+
+Huddled within narrow confines were the remnants of the once-famous
+purveyors of the celebrated Mexican national cookery. A few years
+before, their nightly encampments upon the historic Alamo Plaza, in
+the heart of the city, had been a carnival, a saturnalia that was
+renowned throughout the land. Then the caterers numbered hundreds;
+the patrons thousands. Drawn by the coquettish _senoritas_, the
+music of the weird Spanish minstrels, and the strange piquant
+Mexican dishes served at a hundred competing tables, crowds thronged
+the Alamo Plaza all night. Travellers, rancheros, family parties,
+gay gasconading rounders, sightseers and prowlers of polyglot,
+owlish San Antone mingled there at the centre of the city's fun and
+frolic. The popping of corks, pistols, and questions; the glitter of
+eyes, jewels and daggers; the ring of laughter and coin--these were
+the order of the night.
+
+But now no longer. To some half-dozen tents, fires, and tables had
+dwindled the picturesque festival, and these had been relegated to
+an ancient disused plaza.
+
+Often had Tansey strolled down to these stands at night to partake
+of the delectable _chili-con-carne_, a dish evolved by the genius of
+Mexico, composed of delicate meats minced with aromatic herbs and
+the poignant _chili colorado_--a compound full of singular flavour
+and a fiery zest delightful to the Southron's palate.
+
+The titillating odour of this concoction came now, on the breeze, to
+the nostrils of Tansey, awakening in him hunger for it. As he turned
+in that direction he saw a carriage dash up to the Mexicans' tents
+out of the gloom of the Plaza. Some figures moved back and forward
+in the uncertain light of the lanterns, and then the carriage was
+driven swiftly away.
+
+Tansey approached, and sat at one of the tables covered with gaudy
+oil-cloth. Traffic was dull at the moment. A few half-grown boys
+noisily fared at another table; the Mexicans hung listless and
+phlegmatic about their wares. And it was still. The night hum of the
+city crowded to the wall of dark buildings surrounding the Plaza,
+and subsided to an indefinite buzz through which sharply perforated
+the crackle of the languid fires and the rattle of fork and spoon.
+A sedative wind blew from the southeast. The starless firmament
+pressed down upon the earth like a leaden cover.
+
+In all that quiet Tansey turned his head suddenly, and saw, without
+disquietude, a troop of spectral horsemen deploy into the Plaza and
+charge a luminous line of infantry that advanced to sustain the
+shock. He saw the fierce flame of cannon and small arms, but heard
+no sound. The careless victuallers lounged vacantly, not deigning to
+view the conflict. Tansey mildly wondered to what nations these mute
+combatants might belong; turned his back to them and ordered his
+chili and coffee from the Mexican woman who advanced to serve him.
+This woman was old and careworn; her face was lined like the rind
+of a cantaloupe. She fetched the viands from a vessel set by the
+smouldering fire, and then retired to a tent, dark within, that
+stood near by.
+
+Presently Tansey heard a turmoil in the tent; a wailing,
+broken-hearted pleading in the harmonious Spanish tongue, and then
+two figures tumbled out into the light of the lanterns. One was the
+old woman; the other was a man clothed with a sumptuous and flashing
+splendour. The woman seemed to clutch and beseech from him something
+against his will. The man broke from her and struck her brutally
+back into the tent, where she lay, whimpering and invisible.
+Observing Tansey, he walked rapidly to the table where he sat.
+Tansey recognized him to be Ramon Torres, a Mexican, the proprietor
+of the stand he was patronizing.
+
+Torres was a handsome, nearly full-blooded descendant of the
+Spanish, seemingly about thirty years of age, and of a haughty, but
+extremely courteous demeanour. To-night he was dressed with signal
+magnificence. His costume was that of a triumphant _matador_, made
+of purple velvet almost hidden by jeweled embroidery. Diamonds of
+enormous size flashed upon his garb and his hands. He reached for a
+chair, and, seating himself at the opposite side of the table, began
+to roll a finical cigarette.
+
+"Ah, Meester Tansee," he said, with a sultry fire in his silky,
+black eyes, "I give myself pleasure to see you this evening. Meester
+Tansee, you have many times come to eat at my table. I theenk you a
+safe man--a verree good friend. How much would it please you to
+leeve forever?"
+
+"Not come back any more?" inquired Tansey.
+
+"No; not leave--_leeve_; the not-to-die."
+
+"I would call that," said Tansey, "a snap."
+
+Torres leaned his elbows upon the table, swallowed a mouthful of
+smoke, and spake--each word being projected in a little puff of
+gray.
+
+"How old do you theenk I am, Meester Tansee?"
+
+"Oh, twenty-eight or thirty."
+
+"Thees day," said the Mexican, "ees my birthday. I am four hundred
+and three years of old to-day."
+
+"Another proof," said Tansey, airily, "of the healthfulness of our
+climate."
+
+"Eet is not the air. I am to relate to you a secret of verree fine
+value. Listen me, Meester Tansee. At the age of twenty-three I
+arrive in Mexico from Spain. When? In the year fifteen hundred
+nineteen, with the _soldados_ of Hernando Cortez. I come to thees
+country seventeen fifteen. I saw your Alamo reduced. It was like
+yesterday to me. Three hundred ninety-six year ago I learn the
+secret always to leeve. Look at these clothes I war--at these
+_diamantes_. Do you theenk I buy them with the money I make with
+selling the _chili-con-carne_, Meester Tansee?"
+
+"I should think not," said Tansey, promptly. Torres laughed loudly.
+
+"_Valgame Dios!_ but I do. But it not the kind you eating now. I
+make a deeferent kind, the eating of which makes men to always
+leeve. What do you think! One thousand people I supply--_diez pesos_
+each one pays me the month. You see! ten thousand _pesos_ everee
+month! _Que diable!_ how not I wear the fine _ropa_! You see that
+old woman try to hold me back a little while ago? That ees my wife.
+When I marry her she is young--seventeen year--_bonita_. Like
+the rest she ees become old and--what you say!--tough? I am the
+same--young all the time. To-night I resolve to dress myself
+and find another wife befitting my age. This old woman try to
+scr-r-ratch my face. Ha! ha! Meester Tansee--same way they do
+_entre los Americanos_."
+
+"And this health-food you spoke of?" said Tansey.
+
+"Hear me," said Torres, leaning over the table until he lay flat
+upon it; "eet is the _chili-con-carne_ made not from the beef or the
+chicken, but from the flesh of the _senorita_--young and tender.
+That ees the secret. Everee month you must eat of it, having care to
+do so before the moon is full, and you will not die any times. See
+how I trust you, friend Tansee! To-night I have bought one young
+ladee--verree pretty--so _fina, gorda, blandita!_ To-morrow the
+_chili_ will be ready. _Ahora si!_ One thousand dollars I pay for
+thees young ladee. From an _Americano_ I have bought--a verree
+tip-top man--_el Capitan Peek_--_que es, Senor?_"
+
+For Tansey had sprung to his feet, upsetting the chair. The words
+of Katie reverberated in his ears: "They're going to eat me, Sam."
+This, then, was the monstrous fate to which she had been delivered
+by her unnatural parent. The carriage he had seen drive up from the
+Plaza was Captain Peek's. Where was Katie? Perhaps already--
+
+Before he could decide what to do a loud scream came from the tent.
+The old Mexican woman ran out, a flashing knife in her hand. "I have
+released her," she cried. "You shall kill no more. They will hang
+you--_ingrato_--_encatador!_"
+
+Torres, with a hissing exclamation, sprang at her.
+
+"Ramoncito!" she shrieked; "once you loved me."
+
+The Mexican's arm raised and descended. "You are old," he cried; and
+she fell and lay motionless.
+
+Another scream; the flaps of the tent were flung aside, and there
+stood Katie, white with fear, her wrists still bound with a cruel
+cord.
+
+"Sam!" she cried, "save me again!"
+
+Tansey rounded the table, and flung himself, with superb nerve, upon
+the Mexican. Just then a clangour began; the clocks of the city were
+tolling the midnight hour. Tansey clutched at Torres, and, for a
+moment, felt in his grasp the crunch of velvet and the cold facets
+of the glittering gems. The next instant, the bedecked caballero
+turned in his hands to a shrunken, leather-visaged, white-bearded,
+old, old, screaming mummy, sandalled, ragged, and four hundred and
+three. The Mexican woman was crawling to her feet, and laughing. She
+shook her brown hand in the face of the whining _viejo_.
+
+"Go, now," she cried, "and seek your senorita. It was I, Ramoncito,
+who brought you to this. Within each moon you eat of the life-giving
+_chili_. It was I that kept the wrong time for you. You should have
+eaten _yesterday_ instead of _to-morrow_. It is too late. Off with
+you, _hombre_! You are too old for me!"
+
+"This," decided Tansey, releasing his hold of the gray-beard, "is a
+private family matter concerning age, and no business of mine."
+
+With one of the table knives he hastened to saw asunder the fetters
+of the fair captive; and then, for the second time that night he
+kissed Katie Peek--tasted again the sweetness, the wonder, the
+thrill of it, attained once more the maximum of his incessant
+dreams.
+
+The next instant an icy blade was driven deep between his shoulders;
+he felt his blood slowly congeal; heard the senile cackle of the
+perennial Spaniard; saw the Plaza rise and reel till the zenith
+crashed into the horizon--and knew no more.
+
+When Tansey opened his eyes again he was sitting upon those
+self-same steps gazing upon the dark bulk of the sleeping convent.
+In the middle of his back was still the acute, chilling pain. How
+had he been conveyed back there again? He got stiffly to his feet
+and stretched his cramped limbs. Supporting himself against the
+stonework he revolved in his mind the extravagant adventures that
+had befallen him each time he had strayed from the steps that night.
+In reviewing them certain features strained his credulity. Had he
+really met Captain Peek or Katie or the unparalleled Mexican in
+his wanderings--had he really encountered them under commonplace
+conditions and his over-stimulated brain had supplied the
+incongruities? However that might be, a sudden, elating thought
+caused him an intense joy. Nearly all of us have, at some point in
+our lives--either to excuse our own stupidity or to placate our
+consciences--promulgated some theory of fatalism. We have set up
+an intelligent Fate that works by codes and signals. Tansey had
+done likewise; and now he read, through the night's incidents, the
+finger-prints of destiny. Each excursion that he had made had led
+to the one paramount finale--to Katie and that kiss, which survived
+and grew strong and intoxicating in his memory. Clearly, Fate was
+holding up to him the mirror that night, calling him to observe
+what awaited him at the end of whichever road he might take. He
+immediately turned, and hurried homeward.
+
+
+
+Clothed in an elaborate, pale blue wrapper, cut to fit, Miss Katie
+Peek reclined in an armchair before a waning fire in her room. Her
+little, bare feet were thrust into house-shoes rimmed with swan's
+down. By the light of a small lamp she was attacking the society
+news of the latest Sunday paper. Some happy substance, seemingly
+indestructible, was being rhythmically crushed between her small
+white teeth. Miss Katie read of functions and furbelows, but she
+kept a vigilant ear for outside sounds and a frequent eye upon the
+clock over the mantel. At every footstep upon the asphalt sidewalk
+her smooth, round chin would cease for a moment its regular rise and
+fall, and a frown of listening would pucker her pretty brows.
+
+At last she heard the latch of the iron gate click. She sprang
+up, tripped softly to the mirror, where she made a few of those
+feminine, flickering passes at her front hair and throat which are
+warranted to hypnotize the approaching guest.
+
+The door-bell rang. Miss Katie, in her haste, turned the blaze of
+the lamp lower instead of higher, and hastened noiselessly down
+stairs into the hall. She turned the key, the door opened, and Mr.
+Tansey side-stepped in.
+
+"Why, the i-de-a!" exclaimed Miss Katie, "is this you, Mr. Tansey?
+It's after midnight. Aren't you ashamed to wake me up at such an
+hour to let you in? You're just _awful_!"
+
+"I was late," said Tansey, brilliantly.
+
+"I should think you were! Ma was awfully worried about you. When you
+weren't in by ten, that hateful Tom McGill said you were out calling
+on another--said you were out calling on some young lady. I just
+despise Mr. McGill. Well, I'm not going to scold you any more, Mr.
+Tansey, if it _is_ a little late--Oh! I turned it the wrong way!"
+
+Miss Katie gave a little scream. Absent-mindedly she had turned the
+blaze of the lamp entirely out instead of higher. It was very dark.
+
+Tansey heard a musical, soft giggle, and breathed an entrancing
+odour of heliotrope. A groping light hand touched his arm.
+
+"How awkward I was! Can you find your way--Sam?"
+
+"I--I think I have a match, Miss K-Katie."
+
+A scratching sound; a flame; a glow of light held at arm's length by
+the recreant follower of Destiny illuminating a tableau which shall
+end the ignominious chronicle--a maid with unkissed, curling,
+contemptuous lips slowly lifting the lamp chimney and allowing the
+wick to ignite; then waving a scornful and abjuring hand toward the
+staircase--the unhappy Tansey, erstwhile champion in the prophetic
+lists of fortune, ingloriously ascending to his just and certain
+doom, while (let us imagine) half within the wings stands the
+imminent figure of Fate jerking wildly at the wrong strings, and
+mixing things up in her usual able manner.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+A DEPARTMENTAL CASE
+
+
+In Texas you may travel a thousand miles in a straight line. If
+your course is a crooked one, it is likely that both the distance
+and your rate of speed may be vastly increased. Clouds there
+sail serenely against the wind. The whip-poor-will delivers its
+disconsolate cry with the notes exactly reversed from those of his
+Northern brother. Given a drought and a subsequently lively rain,
+and lo! from a glazed and stony soil will spring in a single night
+blossomed lilies, miraculously fair. Tom Green County was once the
+standard of measurement. I have forgotten how many New Jerseys and
+Rhode Islands it was that could have been stowed away and lost in
+its chaparral. But the legislative axe has slashed Tom Green into
+a handful of counties hardly larger than European kingdoms. The
+legislature convenes at Austin, near the centre of the state; and,
+while the representative from the Rio Grande country is gathering
+his palm-leaf fan and his linen duster to set out for the capital,
+the Pan-handle solon winds his muffler above his well-buttoned
+overcoat and kicks the snow from his well-greased boots ready for
+the same journey. All this merely to hint that the big ex-republic
+of the Southwest forms a sizable star on the flag, and to prepare
+for the corollary that things sometimes happen there uncut to
+pattern and unfettered by metes and bounds.
+
+The Commissioner of Insurance, Statistics, and History of the State
+of Texas was an official of no very great or very small importance.
+The past tense is used, for now he is Commissioner of Insurance
+alone. Statistics and history are no longer proper nouns in the
+government records.
+
+In the year 188--, the governor appointed Luke Coonrod Standifer to
+be the head of this department. Standifer was then fifty-five years
+of age, and a Texan to the core. His father had been one of the
+state's earliest settlers and pioneers. Standifer himself had served
+the commonwealth as Indian fighter, soldier, ranger, and legislator.
+Much learning he did not claim, but he had drank pretty deep of the
+spring of experience.
+
+If other grounds were less abundant, Texas should be well up in the
+lists of glory as the grateful republic. For both as republic and
+state, it has busily heaped honours and solid rewards upon its sons
+who rescued it from the wilderness.
+
+Wherefore and therefore, Luke Coonrod Standifer, son of Ezra
+Standifer, ex-Terry ranger, simon-pure democrat, and lucky dweller
+in an unrepresented portion of the politico-geographical map, was
+appointed Commissioner of Insurance, Statistics, and History.
+
+Standifer accepted the honour with some doubt as to the nature of
+the office he was to fill and his capacity for filling it--but
+he accepted, and by wire. He immediately set out from the little
+country town where he maintained (and was scarcely maintained by) a
+somnolent and unfruitful office of surveying and map-drawing. Before
+departing, he had looked up under the I's, S's and H's in the
+"Encyclopaedia Britannica" what information and preparation toward
+his official duties that those weighty volumes afforded.
+
+A few weeks of incumbency diminished the new commissioner's awe of
+the great and important office he had been called upon to conduct.
+An increasing familiarity with its workings soon restored him to
+his accustomed placid course of life. In his office was an old,
+spectacled clerk--a consecrated, informed, able machine, who
+held his desk regardless of changes of administrative heads. Old
+Kauffman instructed his new chief gradually in the knowledge of the
+department without seeming to do so, and kept the wheels revolving
+without the slip of a cog.
+
+Indeed, the Department of Insurance, Statistics, and History
+carried no great heft of the burden of state. Its main work was
+the regulating of the business done in the state by foreign
+insurance companies, and the letter of the law was its guide. As
+for statistics--well, you wrote letters to county officers, and
+scissored other people's reports, and each year you got out a report
+of your own about the corn crop and the cotton crop and pecans and
+pigs and black and white population, and a great many columns of
+figures headed "bushels" and "acres" and "square miles," etc.--and
+there you were. History? The branch was purely a receptive one. Old
+ladies interested in the science bothered you some with long reports
+of proceedings of their historical societies. Some twenty or thirty
+people would write you each year that they had secured Sam Houston's
+pocket-knife or Santa Ana's whisky-flask or Davy Crockett's
+rifle--all absolutely authenticated--and demanded legislative
+appropriation to purchase. Most of the work in the history branch
+went into pigeon-holes.
+
+One sizzling August afternoon the commissioner reclined in his
+office chair, with his feet upon the long, official table covered
+with green billiard cloth. The commissioner was smoking a cigar, and
+dreamily regarding the quivering landscape framed by the window that
+looked upon the treeless capitol grounds. Perhaps he was thinking of
+the rough and ready life he had led, of the old days of breathless
+adventure and movement, of the comrades who now trod other paths or
+had ceased to tread any, of the changes civilization and peace had
+brought, and, maybe, complacently, of the snug and comfortable camp
+pitched for him under the dome of the capitol of the state that had
+not forgotten his services.
+
+The business of the department was lax. Insurance was easy.
+Statistics were not in demand. History was dead. Old Kauffman,
+the efficient and perpetual clerk, had requested an infrequent
+half-holiday, incited to the unusual dissipation by the joy of
+having successfully twisted the tail of a Connecticut insurance
+company that was trying to do business contrary to the edicts of the
+great Lone Star State.
+
+The office was very still. A few subdued noises trickled in through
+the open door from the other departments--a dull tinkling crash from
+the treasurer's office adjoining, as a clerk tossed a bag of silver
+to the floor of the vault--the vague, intermittent clatter of a
+dilatory typewriter--a dull tapping from the state geologist's
+quarters as if some woodpecker had flown in to bore for his prey in
+the cool of the massive building--and then a faint rustle and the
+light shuffling of the well-worn shoes along the hall, the sounds
+ceasing at the door toward which the commissioner's lethargic back
+was presented. Following this, the sound of a gentle voice speaking
+words unintelligible to the commissioner's somewhat dormant
+comprehension, but giving evidence of bewilderment and hesitation.
+
+The voice was feminine; the commissioner was of the race of
+cavaliers who make salaam before the trail of a skirt without
+considering the quality of its cloth.
+
+There stood in the door a faded woman, one of the numerous
+sisterhood of the unhappy. She was dressed all in black--poverty's
+perpetual mourning for lost joys. Her face had the contours of
+twenty and the lines of forty. She may have lived that intervening
+score of years in a twelve-month. There was about her yet an aurum
+of indignant, unappeased, protesting youth that shone faintly
+through the premature veil of unearned decline.
+
+"I beg your pardon, ma'am," said the commissioner, gaining his feet
+to the accompaniment of a great creaking and sliding of his chair.
+
+"Are you the governor, sir?" asked the vision of melancholy.
+
+The commissioner hesitated at the end of his best bow, with his
+hand in the bosom of his double-breasted "frock." Truth at last
+conquered.
+
+"Well, no, ma'am. I am not the governor. I have the honour to be
+Commissioner of Insurance, Statistics, and History. Is there
+anything, ma'am, I can do for you? Won't you have a chair, ma'am?"
+
+The lady subsided into the chair handed her, probably from purely
+physical reasons. She wielded a cheap fan--last token of gentility
+to be abandoned. Her clothing seemed to indicate a reduction almost
+to extreme poverty. She looked at the man who was not the governor,
+and saw kindliness and simplicity and a rugged, unadorned
+courtliness emanating from a countenance tanned and toughened by
+forty years of outdoor life. Also, she saw that his eyes were clear
+and strong and blue. Just so they had been when he used them to skim
+the horizon for raiding Kiowas and Sioux. His mouth was as set and
+firm as it had been on that day when he bearded the old Lion Sam
+Houston himself, and defied him during that season when secession
+was the theme. Now, in bearing and dress, Luke Coonrod Sandifer
+endeavoured to do credit to the important arts and sciences of
+Insurance, Statistics, and History. He had abandoned the careless
+dress of his country home. Now, his broad-brimmed black slouch hat,
+and his long-tailed "frock" made him not the least imposing of the
+official family, even if his office was reckoned to stand at the
+tail of the list.
+
+"You wanted to see the governor, ma'am?" asked the commissioner,
+with a deferential manner he always used toward the fair sex.
+
+"I hardly know," said the lady, hesitatingly. "I suppose so." And
+then, suddenly drawn by the sympathetic look of the other, she
+poured forth the story of her need.
+
+It was a story so common that the public has come to look at its
+monotony instead of its pity. The old tale of an unhappy married
+life--made so by a brutal, conscienceless husband, a robber, a
+spendthrift, a moral coward and a bully, who failed to provide
+even the means of the barest existence. Yes, he had come down
+in the scale so low as to strike her. It happened only the day
+before--there was the bruise on one temple--she had offended his
+highness by asking for a little money to live on. And yet she must
+needs, woman-like, append a plea for her tyrant--he was drinking;
+he had rarely abused her thus when sober.
+
+"I thought," mourned this pale sister of sorrow, "that maybe the
+state might be willing to give me some relief. I've heard of such
+things being done for the families of old settlers. I've heard
+tell that the state used to give land to the men who fought for it
+against Mexico, and settled up the country, and helped drive out the
+Indians. My father did all of that, and he never received anything.
+He never would take it. I thought the governor would be the one to
+see, and that's why I came. If father was entitled to anything, they
+might let it come to me."
+
+"It's possible, ma'am," said Standifer, "that such might be the
+case. But 'most all the veterans and settlers got their land
+certificates issued, and located long ago. Still, we can look that
+up in the land office, and be sure. Your father's name, now, was--"
+
+"Amos Colvin, sir."
+
+"Good Lord!" exclaimed Standifer, rising and unbuttoning his tight
+coat, excitedly. "Are you Amos Colvin's daughter? Why, ma'am, Amos
+Colvin and me were thicker than two hoss thieves for more than ten
+years! We fought Kiowas, drove cattle, and rangered side by side
+nearly all over Texas. I remember seeing you once before, now. You
+were a kid, about seven, a-riding a little yellow pony up and down.
+Amos and me stopped at your home for a little grub when we were
+trailing that band of Mexican cattle thieves down through Karnes
+and Bee. Great tarantulas! and you're Amos Colvin's little girl!
+Did you ever hear your father mention Luke Standifer--just kind of
+casually--as if he'd met me once or twice?"
+
+A little pale smile flitted across the lady's white face.
+
+"It seems to me," she said, "that I don't remember hearing him talk
+about much else. Every day there was some story he had to tell
+about what he and you had done. Mighty near the last thing I heard
+him tell was about the time when the Indians wounded him, and you
+crawled out to him through the grass, with a canteen of water, while
+they--"
+
+"Yes, yes--well--oh, that wasn't anything," said Standifer,
+"hemming" loudly and buttoning his coat again, briskly. "And now,
+ma'am, who was the infernal skunk--I beg your pardon, ma'am--who was
+the gentleman you married?"
+
+"Benton Sharp."
+
+The commissioner plumped down again into his chair, with a groan.
+This gentle, sad little woman, in the rusty black gown, the daughter
+of his oldest friend, the wife of Benton Sharp! Benton Sharp, one of
+the most noted "bad" men in that part of the state--a man who had
+been a cattle thief, an outlaw, a desperado, and was now a gambler,
+a swaggering bully, who plied his trade in the larger frontier
+towns, relying upon his record and the quickness of his gun play to
+maintain his supremacy. Seldom did any one take the risk of going
+"up against" Benton Sharp. Even the law officers were content to let
+him make his own terms of peace. Sharp was a ready and an accurate
+shot, and as lucky as a brand-new penny at coming clear from his
+scrapes. Standifer wondered how this pillaging eagle ever came to be
+mated with Amos Colvin's little dove, and expressed his wonder.
+
+Mrs. Sharp sighed.
+
+"You see, Mr. Standifer, we didn't know anything about him, and he
+can be very pleasant and kind when he wants to. We lived down in the
+little town of Goliad. Benton came riding down that way, and stopped
+there a while. I reckon I was some better looking then than I am
+now. He was good to me for a whole year after we were married. He
+insured his life for me for five thousand dollars. But for the last
+six months he has done everything but kill me. I often wish he had
+done that, too. He got out of money for a while, and abused me
+shamefully for not having anything he could spend. Then father died,
+and left me the little home in Goliad. My husband made me sell that,
+and turned me out into the world. I've barely been able to live, for
+I'm not strong enough to work. Lately, I heard he was making money
+in San Antonio, so I went there, and found him, and asked for a
+little help. This," touching the livid bruise on her temple, "is
+what he gave me. So I came on to Austin to see the governor. I once
+heard father say that there was some land, or a pension, coming to
+him from the state that he never would ask for."
+
+Luke Standifer rose to his feet, and pushed his chair back. He
+looked rather perplexedly around the big office, with its handsome
+furniture.
+
+"It's a long trail to follow," he said, slowly, "trying to get back
+dues from the government. There's red tape and lawyers and rulings
+and evidence and courts to keep you waiting. I'm not certain,"
+continued the commissioner, with a profoundly meditative frown,
+"whether this department that I'm the boss of has any jurisdiction
+or not. It's only Insurance, Statistics, and History, ma'am, and it
+don't sound as if it would cover the case. But sometimes a saddle
+blanket can be made to stretch. You keep your seat, just for a few
+minutes, ma'am, till I step into the next room and see about it."
+
+The state treasurer was seated within his massive, complicated
+railings, reading a newspaper. Business for the day was about over.
+The clerks lolled at their desks, awaiting the closing hour. The
+Commissioner of Insurance, Statistics, and History entered, and
+leaned in at the window.
+
+The treasurer, a little, brisk old man, with snow-white moustache
+and beard, jumped up youthfully and came forward to greet Standifer.
+They were friends of old.
+
+"Uncle Frank," said the commissioner, using the familiar name by
+which the historic treasurer was addressed by every Texan, "how much
+money have you got on hand?"
+
+The treasurer named the sum of the last balance down to the odd
+cents--something more than a million dollars.
+
+The commissioner whistled lowly, and his eyes grew hopefully bright.
+
+"You know, or else you've heard of, Amos Colvin, Uncle Frank?"
+
+"Knew him well," said the treasurer, promptly. "A good man. A
+valuable citizen. One of the first settlers in the Southwest."
+
+"His daughter," said Standifer, "is sitting in my office. She's
+penniless. She's married to Benton Sharp, a coyote and a murderer.
+He's reduced her to want, and broken her heart. Her father helped
+build up this state, and it's the state's turn to help his child. A
+couple of thousand dollars will buy back her home and let her live
+in peace. The State of Texas can't afford to refuse it. Give me the
+money, Uncle Frank, and I'll give it to her right away. We'll fix up
+the red-tape business afterward."
+
+The treasurer looked a little bewildered.
+
+"Why, Standifer," he said, "you know I can't pay a cent out of the
+treasury without a warrant from the comptroller. I can't disburse a
+dollar without a voucher to show for it."
+
+The commissioner betrayed a slight impatience.
+
+"I'll give you a voucher," he declared. "What's this job they've
+given me for? Am I just a knot on a mesquite stump? Can't my office
+stand for it? Charge it up to Insurance and the other two sideshows.
+Don't Statistics show that Amos Colvin came to this state when it
+was in the hands of Greasers and rattlesnakes and Comanches, and
+fought day and night to make a white man's country of it? Don't they
+show that Amos Colvin's daughter is brought to ruin by a villain
+who's trying to pull down what you and I and old Texans shed our
+blood to build up? Don't History show that the Lone Star State never
+yet failed to grant relief to the suffering and oppressed children
+of the men who made her the grandest commonwealth in the Union? If
+Statistics and History don't bear out the claim of Amos Colvin's
+child I'll ask the next legislature to abolish my office. Come,
+now, Uncle Frank, let her have the money. I'll sign the papers
+officially, if you say so; and then if the governor or the
+comptroller or the janitor or anybody else makes a kick, by the Lord
+I'll refer the matter to the people, and see if they won't endorse
+the act."
+
+The treasurer looked sympathetic but shocked. The commissioner's
+voice had grown louder as he rounded off the sentences that, however
+praiseworthy they might be in sentiment, reflected somewhat upon
+the capacity of the head of a more or less important department of
+state. The clerks were beginning to listen.
+
+"Now, Standifer," said the treasurer, soothingly, "you know I'd like
+to help in this matter, but stop and think a moment, please. Every
+cent in the treasury is expended only by appropriation made by the
+legislature, and drawn out by checks issued by the comptroller.
+I can't control the use of a cent of it. Neither can you. Your
+department isn't disbursive--it isn't even administrative--it's
+purely clerical. The only way for the lady to obtain relief is to
+petition the legislature, and--"
+
+"To the devil with the legislature," said Standifer, turning away.
+
+The treasurer called him back.
+
+"I'd be glad, Standifer, to contribute a hundred dollars personally
+toward the immediate expenses of Colvin's daughter." He reached for
+his pocketbook.
+
+"Never mind, Uncle Frank," said the commissioner, in a softer tone.
+"There's no need of that. She hasn't asked for anything of that sort
+yet. Besides, her case is in my hands. I see now what a little,
+rag-tag, bob-tail, gotch-eared department I've been put in charge
+of. It seems to be about as important as an almanac or a hotel
+register. But while I'm running it, it won't turn away any daughters
+of Amos Colvin without stretching its jurisdiction to cover, if
+possible. You want to keep your eye on the Department of Insurance,
+Statistics, and History."
+
+The commissioner returned to his office, looking thoughtful. He
+opened and closed an inkstand on his desk many times with extreme
+and undue attention. "Why don't you get a divorce?" he asked,
+suddenly.
+
+"I haven't the money to pay for it," answered the lady.
+
+"Just at present," announced the commissioner, in a formal
+tone, "the powers of my department appear to be considerably
+string-halted. Statistics seem to be overdrawn at the bank, and
+History isn't good for a square meal. But you've come to the right
+place, ma'am. The department will see you through. Where did you say
+your husband is, ma'am?"
+
+"He was in San Antonio yesterday. He is living there now."
+
+Suddenly the commissioner abandoned his official air. He took the
+faded little woman's hands in his, and spoke in the old voice he
+used on the trail and around campfires.
+
+"Your name's Amanda, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"I thought so. I've heard your dad say it often enough. Well,
+Amanda, here's your father's best friend, the head of a big office
+in the state government, that's going to help you out of your
+troubles. And here's the old bushwhacker and cowpuncher that your
+father has helped out of scrapes time and time again wants to ask
+you a question. Amanda, have you got money enough to run you for the
+next two or three days?"
+
+Mrs. Sharp's white face flushed the least bit.
+
+"Plenty, sir--for a few days."
+
+"All right, then, ma'am. Now you go back where you are stopping
+here, and you come to the office again the day after to-morrow at
+four o'clock in the afternoon. Very likely by that time there will
+be something definite to report to you." The commissioner hesitated,
+and looked a trifle embarrassed. "You said your husband had insured
+his life for $5,000. Do you know whether the premiums have been kept
+paid upon it or not?"
+
+"He paid for a whole year in advance about five months ago," said
+Mrs. Sharp. "I have the policy and receipts in my trunk."
+
+"Oh, that's all right, then," said Standifer. "It's best to look
+after things of that sort. Some day they may come in handy."
+
+Mrs. Sharp departed, and soon afterward Luke Standifer went down
+to the little hotel where he boarded and looked up the railroad
+time-table in the daily paper. Half an hour later he removed his
+coat and vest, and strapped a peculiarly constructed pistol holster
+across his shoulders, leaving the receptacle close under his left
+armpit. Into the holster he shoved a short-barrelled .44 calibre
+revolver. Putting on his clothes again, he strolled to the station
+and caught the five-twenty afternoon train for San Antonio.
+
+The San Antonio _Express_ of the following morning contained this
+sensational piece of news:
+
+
+   BENTON SHARP MEETS HIS MATCH
+
+   THE MOST NOTED DESPERADO IN SOUTHWEST TEXAS SHOT TO
+   DEATH IN THE GOLD FRONT RESTAURANT--PROMINENT STATE
+   OFFICIAL SUCCESSFULLY DEFENDS HIMSELF AGAINST THE
+   NOTED BULLY--MAGNIFICENT EXHIBITION OF QUICK GUN PLAY.
+
+   Last night about eleven o'clock Benton Sharp, with two
+   other men, entered the Gold Front Restaurant and seated
+   themselves at a table. Sharp had been drinking, and was
+   loud and boisterous, as he always was when under the
+   influence of liquor. Five minutes after the party was
+   seated a tall, well-dressed, elderly gentleman entered
+   the restaurant. Few present recognized the Honourable
+   Luke Standifer, the recently appointed Commissioner of
+   Insurance, Statistics, and History.
+
+   Going over to the same side where Sharp was, Mr.
+   Standifer prepared to take a seat at the next table. In
+   hanging his hat upon one of the hooks along the wall he
+   let it fall upon Sharp's head. Sharp turned, being in an
+   especially ugly humour, and cursed the other roundly.
+   Mr. Standifer apologized calmly for the accident, but
+   Sharp continued his vituperations. Mr. Standifer was
+   observed to draw near and speak a few sentences to the
+   desperado in so low a tone that no one else caught the
+   words. Sharp sprang up, wild with rage. In the meantime
+   Standifer had stepped some yards away, and was standing
+   quietly with his arms folded across the breast of his
+   loosely hanging coat.
+
+   With that impetuous and deadly rapidity that made Sharp
+   so dreaded, he reached for the gun he always carried in
+   his hip pocket--a movement that has preceded the death
+   of at least a dozen men at his hands. Quick as the motion
+   was, the bystanders assert that it was met by the most
+   beautiful exhibition of lightning gun-pulling ever
+   witnessed in the Southwest. As Sharp's pistol was being
+   raised--and the act was really quicker than the eye could
+   follow--a glittering .44 appeared as if by some conjuring
+   trick in the right hand of Mr. Standifer, who, without
+   a perceptible movement of his arm, shot Benton Sharp
+   through the heart. It seems that the new Commissioner of
+   Insurance, Statistics, and History has been an old-time
+   Indian fighter and ranger for many years, which accounts
+   for the happy knack he has of handling a .44.
+
+   It is not believed that Mr. Standifer will be put to any
+   inconvenience beyond a necessary formal hearing to-day,
+   as all the witnesses who were present unite in declaring
+   that the deed was done in self-defence.
+
+
+When Mrs. Sharp appeared at the office of the commissioner,
+according to appointment, she found that gentleman calmly eating
+a golden russet apple. He greeted her without embarrassment and
+without hesitation at approaching the subject that was the topic
+of the day.
+
+"I had to do it, ma'am," he said, simply, "or get it myself. Mr.
+Kauffman," he added, turning to the old clerk, "please look up the
+records of the Security Life Insurance Company and see if they are
+all right."
+
+"No need to look," grunted Kauffman, who had everything in his head.
+"It's all O.K. They pay all losses within ten days."
+
+Mrs. Sharp soon rose to depart. She had arranged to remain in town
+until the policy was paid. The commissioner did not detain her. She
+was a woman, and he did not know just what to say to her at present.
+Rest and time would bring her what she needed.
+
+But, as she was leaving, Luke Standifer indulged himself in an
+official remark:
+
+"The Department of Insurance, Statistics, and History, ma'am, has
+done the best it could with your case. 'Twas a case hard to cover
+according to red tape. Statistics failed, and History missed fire,
+but, if I may be permitted to say it, we came out particularly
+strong on Insurance."
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE RENAISSANCE AT CHARLEROI
+
+
+Grandemont Charles was a little Creole gentleman, aged thirty-four,
+with a bald spot on the top of his head and the manners of a prince.
+By day he was a clerk in a cotton broker's office in one of those
+cold, rancid mountains of oozy brick, down near the levee in New
+Orleans. By night, in his three-story-high _chambre garnier_ in the
+old French Quarter he was again the last male descendant of the
+Charles family, that noble house that had lorded it in France, and
+had pushed its way smiling, rapiered, and courtly into Louisiana's
+early and brilliant days. Of late years the Charleses had subsided
+into the more republican but scarcely less royally carried
+magnificence and ease of plantation life along the Mississippi.
+Perhaps Grandemont was even Marquis de Brasse. There was that title
+in the family. But a Marquis on seventy-five dollars per month!
+_Vraiment!_ Still, it has been done on less.
+
+Grandemont had saved out of his salary the sum of six hundred
+dollars. Enough, you would say, for any man to marry on. So, after
+a silence of two years on that subject, he reopened that most
+hazardous question to Mlle. Adele Fauquier, riding down to Meade
+d'Or, her father's plantation. Her answer was the same that it had
+been any time during the last ten years: "First find my brother,
+Monsieur Charles."
+
+This time he had stood before her, perhaps discouraged by a love
+so long and hopeless, being dependent upon a contingency so
+unreasonable, and demanded to be told in simple words whether she
+loved him or no.
+
+Adele looked at him steadily out of her gray eyes that betrayed no
+secrets and answered, a little more softly:
+
+"Grandemont, you have no right to ask that question unless you can
+do what I ask of you. Either bring back brother Victor to us or the
+proof that he died."
+
+Somehow, though five times thus rejected, his heart was not so heavy
+when he left. She had not denied that she loved. Upon what shallow
+waters can the bark of passion remain afloat! Or, shall we play
+the doctrinaire, and hint that at thirty-four the tides of life
+are calmer and cognizant of many sources instead of but one--as at
+four-and-twenty?
+
+Victor Fauquier would never be found. In those early days of his
+disappearance there was money to the Charles name, and Grandemont
+had spent the dollars as if they were picayunes in trying to find
+the lost youth. Even then he had had small hope of success, for the
+Mississippi gives up a victim from its oily tangles only at the whim
+of its malign will.
+
+A thousand times had Grandemont conned in his mind the scene of
+Victor's disappearance. And, at each time that Adele had set her
+stubborn but pitiful alternative against his suit, still clearer it
+repeated itself in his brain.
+
+The boy had been the family favourite; daring, winning, reckless.
+His unwise fancy had been captured by a girl on the plantation--the
+daughter of an overseer. Victor's family was in ignorance of the
+intrigue, as far as it had gone. To save them the inevitable
+pain that his course promised, Grandemont strove to prevent it.
+Omnipotent money smoothed the way. The overseer and his daughter
+left, between a sunset and dawn, for an undesignated bourne.
+Grandemont was confident that this stroke would bring the boy
+to reason. He rode over to Meade d'Or to talk with him. The two
+strolled out of the house and grounds, crossed the road, and,
+mounting the levee, walked its broad path while they conversed.
+A thunder-cloud was hanging, imminent, above, but, as yet, no
+rain fell. At Grandemont's disclosure of his interference in the
+clandestine romance, Victor attacked him, in a wild and sudden fury.
+Grandemont, though of slight frame, possessed muscles of iron. He
+caught the wrists amid a shower of blows descending upon him, bent
+the lad backward and stretched him upon the levee path. In a little
+while the gust of passion was spent, and he was allowed to rise.
+Calm now, but a powder mine where he had been but a whiff of the
+tantrums, Victor extended his hand toward the dwelling house of
+Meade d'Or.
+
+"You and they," he cried, "have conspired to destroy my happiness.
+None of you shall ever look upon my face again."
+
+Turning, he ran swiftly down the levee, disappearing in the
+darkness. Grandemont followed as well as he could, calling to
+him, but in vain. For longer than an hour he pursued the search.
+Descending the side of the levee, he penetrated the rank density of
+weeds and willows that undergrew the trees until the river's edge,
+shouting Victor's name. There was never an answer, though once he
+thought he heard a bubbling scream from the dun waters sliding past.
+Then the storm broke, and he returned to the house drenched and
+dejected.
+
+There he explained the boy's absence sufficiently, he thought, not
+speaking of the tangle that had led to it, for he hoped that Victor
+would return as soon as his anger had cooled. Afterward, when the
+threat was made good and they saw his face no more, he found it
+difficult to alter his explanations of that night, and there clung a
+certain mystery to the boy's reasons for vanishing as well as to the
+manner of it.
+
+It was on that night that Grandemont first perceived a new and
+singular expression in Adele's eyes whenever she looked at him. And
+through the years following that expression was always there. He
+could not read it, for it was born of a thought she would never
+otherwise reveal.
+
+Perhaps, if he had known that Adele had stood at the gate on that
+unlucky night, where she had followed, lingering, to await the
+return of her brother and lover, wondering why they had chosen so
+tempestuous an hour and so black a spot to hold converse--if he had
+known that a sudden flash of lightning had revealed to her sight
+that short, sharp struggle as Victor was sinking under his hands,
+he might have explained everything, and she--
+
+I know what she would have done. But one thing is clear--there was
+something besides her brother's disappearance between Grandemont's
+pleadings for her hand and Adele's "yes." Ten years had passed, and
+what she had seen during the space of that lightning flash remained
+an indelible picture. She had loved her brother, but was she holding
+out for the solution of that mystery or for the "Truth"? Women have
+been known to reverence it, even as an abstract principle. It is
+said there have been a few who, in the matter of their affections,
+have considered a life to be a small thing as compared with a lie.
+That I do not know. But, I wonder, had Grandemont cast himself at
+her feet crying that his hand had sent Victor to the bottom of that
+inscrutable river, and that he could no longer sully his love with a
+lie, I wonder if--I wonder what she would have done!
+
+But, Grandemont Charles, Arcadian little gentleman, never guessed
+the meaning of that look in Adele's eyes; and from this last
+bootless payment of his devoirs he rode away as rich as ever in
+honour and love, but poor in hope.
+
+That was in September. It was during the first winter month that
+Grandemont conceived his idea of the _renaissance_. Since Adele
+would never be his, and wealth without her were useless trumpery,
+why need he add to that hoard of slowly harvested dollars? Why
+should he even retain that hoard?
+
+Hundreds were the cigarettes he consumed over his claret, sitting at
+the little polished tables in the Royal street cafes while thinking
+over his plan. By and by he had it perfect. It would cost, beyond
+doubt, all the money he had, but--_le jeu vaut la chandelle_--for
+some hours he would be once more a Charles of Charleroi. Once again
+should the nineteenth of January, that most significant day in the
+fortunes of the house of Charles, be fittingly observed. On that
+date the French king had seated a Charles by his side at table;
+on that date Armand Charles, Marquis de Brasse, landed, like a
+brilliant meteor, in New Orleans; it was the date of his mother's
+wedding; of Grandemont's birth. Since Grandemont could remember
+until the breaking up of the family that anniversary had been the
+synonym for feasting, hospitality, and proud commemoration.
+
+Charleroi was the old family plantation, lying some twenty miles
+down the river. Years ago the estate had been sold to discharge the
+debts of its too-bountiful owners. Once again it had changed hands,
+and now the must and mildew of litigation had settled upon it.
+A question of heirship was in the courts, and the dwelling house
+of Charleroi, unless the tales told of ghostly powdered and
+laced Charleses haunting its unechoing chambers were true, stood
+uninhabited.
+
+Grandemont found the solicitor in chancery who held the keys
+pending the decision. He proved to be an old friend of the family.
+Grandemont explained briefly that he desired to rent the house for
+two or three days. He wanted to give a dinner at his old home to a
+few friends. That was all.
+
+"Take it for a week--a month, if you will," said the solicitor;
+"but do not speak to me of rental." With a sigh he concluded: "The
+dinners I have eaten under that roof, _mon fils_!"
+
+There came to many of the old, established dealers in furniture,
+china, silverware, decorations and household fittings at their
+stores on Canal, Chartres, St. Charles, and Royal Streets, a
+quiet young man with a little bald spot on the top of his head,
+distinguished manners, and the eye of a _connoisseur_, who explained
+what he wanted. To hire the complete and elegant equipment of a
+dining-room, hall, reception-room, and cloak-rooms. The goods were
+to be packed and sent, by boat, to the Charleroi landing, and would
+be returned within three or four days. All damage or loss to be
+promptly paid for.
+
+Many of those old merchants knew Grandemont by sight, and the
+Charleses of old by association. Some of them were of Creole stock
+and felt a thrill of responsive sympathy with the magnificently
+indiscreet design of this impoverished clerk who would revive
+but for a moment the ancient flame of glory with the fuel of his
+savings.
+
+"Choose what you want," they said to him. "Handle everything
+carefully. See that the damage bill is kept low, and the charges for
+the loan will not oppress you."
+
+To the wine merchants next; and here a doleful slice was lopped from
+the six hundred. It was an exquisite pleasure to Grandemont once
+more to pick among the precious vintages. The champagne bins lured
+him like the abodes of sirens, but these he was forced to pass. With
+his six hundred he stood before them as a child with a penny stands
+before a French doll. But he bought with taste and discretion of
+other wines--Chablis, Moselle, Chateau d'Or, Hochheimer, and port of
+right age and pedigree.
+
+The matter of the cuisine gave him some studious hours until he
+suddenly recollected Andre--Andre, their old _chef_--the most
+sublime master of French Creole cookery in the Mississippi Valley.
+Perhaps he was yet somewhere about the plantation. The solicitor had
+told him that the place was still being cultivated, in accordance
+with a compromise agreement between the litigants.
+
+On the next Sunday after the thought Grandemont rode, horseback,
+down to Charleroi. The big, square house with its two long ells
+looked blank and cheerless with its closed shutters and doors.
+
+The shrubbery in the yard was ragged and riotous. Fallen leaves from
+the grove littered the walks and porches. Turning down the lane at
+the side of the house, Grandemont rode on to the quarters of the
+plantation hands. He found the workers just streaming back from
+church, careless, happy, and bedecked in gay yellows, reds, and
+blues.
+
+Yes, Andre was still there; his wool a little grayer; his mouth as
+wide; his laughter as ready as ever. Grandemont told him of his
+plan, and the old _chef_ swayed with pride and delight. With a sigh
+of relief, knowing that he need have no further concern until the
+serving of that dinner was announced, he placed in Andre's hands
+a liberal sum for the cost of it, giving _carte blanche_ for its
+creation.
+
+Among the blacks were also a number of the old house servants.
+Absalom, the former major domo, and a half-dozen of the younger men,
+once waiters and attaches of the kitchen, pantry, and other domestic
+departments crowded around to greet "M'shi Grande." Absalom
+guaranteed to marshal, of these, a corps of assistants that would
+perform with credit the serving of the dinner.
+
+After distributing a liberal largesse among the faithful, Grandemont
+rode back to town well pleased. There were many other smaller
+details to think of and provide for, but eventually the scheme
+was complete, and now there remained only the issuance of the
+invitations to his guests.
+
+Along the river within the scope of a score of miles dwelt some
+half-dozen families with whose princely hospitality that of the
+Charleses had been contemporaneous. They were the proudest and most
+august of the old regime. Their small circle had been a brilliant
+one; their social relations close and warm; their houses full
+of rare welcome and discriminating bounty. Those friends, said
+Grandemont, should once more, if never again, sit at Charleroi on
+a nineteenth of January to celebrate the festal day of his house.
+
+Grandemont had his cards of invitation engraved. They were
+expensive, but beautiful. In one particular their good taste might
+have been disputed; but the Creole allowed himself that one feather
+in the cap of his fugacious splendour. Might he not be allowed, for
+the one day of the _renaissance_, to be "Grandemont du Puy Charles,
+of Charleroi"? He sent the invitations out early in January so that
+the guests might not fail to receive due notice.
+
+At eight o'clock in the morning of the nineteenth, the lower coast
+steamboat _River Belle_ gingerly approached the long unused landing
+at Charleroi. The bridge was lowered, and a swarm of the plantation
+hands streamed along the rotting pier, bearing ashore a strange
+assortment of freight. Great shapeless bundles and bales and packets
+swathed in cloth and bound with ropes; tubs and urns of palms,
+evergreens, and tropical flowers; tables, mirrors, chairs, couches,
+carpets, and pictures--all carefully bound and padded against the
+dangers of transit.
+
+Grandemont was among them, the busiest there. To the safe conveyance
+of certain large hampers eloquent with printed cautions to delicate
+handling he gave his superintendence, for they contained the fragile
+china and glassware. The dropping of one of those hampers would have
+cost him more than he could have saved in a year.
+
+The last article unloaded, the _River Belle_ backed off and
+continued her course down stream. In less than an hour everything
+had been conveyed to the house. And came then Absalom's task,
+directing the placing of the furniture and wares. There was plenty
+of help, for that day was always a holiday at Charleroi, and the
+Negroes did not suffer the old traditions to lapse. Almost the
+entire population of the quarters volunteered their aid. A score
+of piccaninnies were sweeping at the leaves in the yard. In the
+big kitchen at the rear Andre was lording it with his old-time
+magnificence over his numerous sub-cooks and scullions. Shutters
+were flung wide; dust spun in clouds; the house echoed to voices and
+the tread of busy feet. The prince had come again, and Charleroi
+woke from its long sleep.
+
+The full moon, as she rose across the river that night and peeped
+above the levee saw a sight that had long been missing from her
+orbit. The old plantation house shed a soft and alluring radiance
+from every window. Of its two-score rooms only four had been
+refurnished--the larger reception chamber, the dining hall, and
+two smaller rooms for the convenience of the expected guests. But
+lighted wax candles were set in the windows of every room.
+
+The dining-hall was the _chef d'oeuvre_. The long table, set with
+twenty-five covers, sparkled like a winter landscape with its snowy
+napery and china and the icy gleam of crystal. The chaste beauty of
+the room had required small adornment. The polished floor burned
+to a glowing ruby with the reflection of candle light. The rich
+wainscoting reached half way to the ceiling. Along and above this
+had been set the relieving lightness of a few water-colour sketches
+of fruit and flower.
+
+The reception chamber was fitted in a simple but elegant style.
+Its arrangement suggested nothing of the fact that on the morrow
+the room would again be cleared and abandoned to the dust and the
+spider. The entrance hall was imposing with palms and ferns and the
+light of an immense candelabrum.
+
+At seven o'clock Grandemont, in evening dress, with pearls--a
+family passion--in his spotless linen, emerged from somewhere. The
+invitations had specified eight as the dining hour. He drew an
+armchair upon the porch, and sat there, smoking cigarettes and half
+dreaming.
+
+The moon was an hour high. Fifty years back from the gate stood the
+house, under its noble grove. The road ran in front, and then came
+the grass-grown levee and the insatiate river beyond. Just above the
+levee top a tiny red light was creeping down and a tiny green one
+was creeping up. Then the passing steamers saluted, and the hoarse
+din startled the drowsy silence of the melancholy lowlands. The
+stillness returned, save for the little voices of the night--the
+owl's recitative, the capriccio of the crickets, the concerto of
+the frogs in the grass. The piccaninnies and the dawdlers from the
+quarters had been dismissed to their confines, and the melee of
+the day was reduced to an orderly and intelligent silence. The six
+coloured waiters, in their white jackets, paced, cat-footed, about
+the table, pretending to arrange where all was beyond betterment.
+Absalom, in black and shining pumps posed, superior, here and there
+where the lights set off his grandeur. And Grandemont rested in his
+chair, waiting for his guests.
+
+He must have drifted into a dream--and an extravagant one--for he
+was master of Charleroi and Adele was his wife. She was coming out
+to him now; he could hear her steps; he could feel her hand upon his
+shoulder--
+
+"_Pardon moi, M'shi Grande_"--it was Absalom's hand touching him, it
+was Absalom's voice, speaking the _patois_ of the blacks--"but it is
+eight o'clock."
+
+Eight o'clock. Grandemont sprang up. In the moonlight he could see
+the row of hitching-posts outside the gate. Long ago the horses of
+the guests should have stood there. They were vacant.
+
+A chanted roar of indignation, a just, waxing bellow of affront and
+dishonoured genius came from Andre's kitchen, filling the house with
+rhythmic protest. The beautiful dinner, the pearl of a dinner, the
+little excellent superb jewel of a dinner! But one moment more of
+waiting and not even the thousand thunders of black pigs of the
+quarter would touch it!
+
+"They are a little late," said Grandemont, calmly. "They will come
+soon. Tell Andre to hold back dinner. And ask him if, by some
+chance, a bull from the pastures has broken, roaring, into the
+house."
+
+He seated himself again to his cigarettes. Though he had said it,
+he scarcely believed Charleroi would entertain company that night.
+For the first time in history the invitation of a Charles had been
+ignored. So simple in courtesy and honour was Grandemont, and,
+perhaps, so serenely confident in the prestige of his name, that the
+most likely reasons for the vacant board did not occur to him.
+
+Charleroi stood by a road travelled daily by people from those
+plantations whither his invitations had gone. No doubt even on the
+day before the sudden reanimation of the old house they had driven
+past and observed the evidences of long desertion and decay. They
+had looked at the corpse of Charleroi and then at Grandemont's
+invitations, and, though the puzzle or tasteless hoax or whatever
+the thing meant left them perplexed, they would not seek its
+solution by the folly of a visit to that deserted house.
+
+The moon was now above the grove, and the yard was pied with deep
+shadows save where they lightened in the tender glow of outpouring
+candle light. A crisp breeze from the river hinted at the
+possibility of frost when the night should have become older. The
+grass at one side of the steps was specked with the white stubs of
+Grandemont's cigarettes. The cotton-broker's clerk sat in his chair
+with the smoke spiralling above him. I doubt that he once thought of
+the little fortune he had so impotently squandered. Perhaps it was
+compensation enough for him to sit thus at Charleroi for a few
+retrieved hours. Idly his mind wandered in and out many fanciful
+paths of memory. He smiled to himself as a paraphrased line of
+Scripture strayed into his mind: "A certain _poor_ man made a
+feast."
+
+He heard the sound of Absalom coughing a note of summons. Grandemont
+stirred. This time he had not been asleep--only drowsing.
+
+"Nine o'clock, _M'shi Grande_," said Absalom in the uninflected
+voice of a good servant who states a fact unqualified by personal
+opinion.
+
+Grandemont rose to his feet. In their time all the Charleses had
+been proven, and they were gallant losers.
+
+"Serve dinner," he said calmly. And then he checked Absalom's
+movement to obey, for something clicked the gate latch and was
+coming down the walk toward the house. Something that shuffled its
+feet and muttered to itself as it came. It stopped in the current of
+light at the foot of the steps and spake, in the universal whine of
+the gadding mendicant.
+
+"Kind sir, could you spare a poor, hungry man, out of luck, a little
+to eat? And to sleep in the corner of a shed? For"--the thing
+concluded, irrelevantly--"I can sleep now. There are no mountains
+to dance reels in the night; and the copper kettles are all scoured
+bright. The iron band is still around my ankle, and a link, if it is
+your desire I should be chained."
+
+It set a foot upon the step and drew up the rags that hung upon the
+limb. Above the distorted shoe, caked with the dust of a hundred
+leagues, they saw the link and the iron band. The clothes of the
+tramp were wreaked to piebald tatters by sun and rain and wear. A
+mat of brown, tangled hair and beard covered his head and face, out
+of which his eyes stared distractedly. Grandemont noticed that he
+carried in one hand a white, square card.
+
+"What is that?" he asked.
+
+"I picked it up, sir, at the side of the road." The vagabond handed
+the card to Grandemont. "Just a little to eat, sir. A little parched
+corn, a _tartilla_, or a handful of beans. Goat's meat I cannot eat.
+When I cut their throats they cry like children."
+
+Grandemont held up the card. It was one of his own invitations to
+dinner. No doubt some one had cast it away from a passing carriage
+after comparing it with the tenantless house of Charleroi.
+
+"From the hedges and highways bid them come," he said to himself,
+softly smiling. And then to Absalom: "Send Louis to me."
+
+Louis, once his own body-servant, came promptly, in his white
+jacket.
+
+"This gentleman," said Grandemont, "will dine with me. Furnish him
+with bath and clothes. In twenty minutes have him ready and dinner
+served."
+
+Louis approached the disreputable guest with the suavity due to a
+visitor to Charleroi, and spirited him away to inner regions.
+
+Promptly, in twenty minutes, Absalom announced dinner, and, a moment
+later, the guest was ushered into the dining hall where Grandemont
+waited, standing, at the head of the table. The attentions of Louis
+had transformed the stranger into something resembling the polite
+animal. Clean linen and an old evening suit that had been sent down
+from town to clothe a waiter had worked a miracle with his exterior.
+Brush and comb had partially subdued the wild disorder of his hair.
+Now he might have passed for no more extravagant a thing than one of
+those _poseurs_ in art and music who affect such oddity of guise.
+The man's countenance and demeanour, as he approached the table,
+exhibited nothing of the awkwardness or confusion to be expected
+from his Arabian Nights change. He allowed Absalom to seat him at
+Grandemont's right hand with the manner of one thus accustomed to
+be waited upon.
+
+"It grieves me," said Grandemont, "to be obliged to exchange names
+with a guest. My own name is Charles."
+
+"In the mountains," said the wayfarer, "they call me Gringo. Along
+the roads they call me Jack."
+
+"I prefer the latter," said Grandemont. "A glass of wine with you,
+Mr. Jack."
+
+Course after course was served by the supernumerous waiters.
+Grandemont, inspired by the results of Andre's exquisite skill in
+cookery and his own in the selection of wines became the model host,
+talkative, witty, and genial. The guest was fitful in conversation.
+His mind seemed to be sustaining a succession of waves of dementia
+followed by intervals of comparative lucidity. There was the glassy
+brightness of recent fever in his eyes. A long course of it must
+have been the cause of his emaciation and weakness, his distracted
+mind, and the dull pallor that showed even through the tan of wind
+and sun.
+
+"Charles," he said to Grandemont--for thus he seemed to interpret
+his name--"you never saw the mountains dance, did you?"
+
+"No, Mr. Jack," answered Grandemont, gravely, "the spectacle has
+been denied me. But, I assure you, I can understand it must be a
+diverting sight. The big ones, you know, white with snow on the
+tops, waltzing--_decollete_, we may say."
+
+"You first scour the kettles," said Mr. Jack, leaning toward him
+excitedly, "to cook the beans in the morning, and you lie down on a
+blanket and keep quite still. Then they come out and dance for you.
+You would go out and dance with them but you are chained every night
+to the centre pole of the hut. You believe the mountains dance,
+don't you, Charlie?"
+
+"I contradict no traveller's tales," said Grandemont, with a smile.
+
+Mr. Jack laughed loudly. He dropped his voice to a confidential
+whisper.
+
+"You are a fool to believe it," he went on. "They don't really
+dance. It's the fever in your head. It's the hard work and the
+bad water that does it. You are sick for weeks and there is no
+medicine. The fever comes on every evening, and then you are as
+strong as two men. One night the _compania_ are lying drunk with
+_mescal_. They have brought back sacks of silver dollars from a
+ride, and they drink to celebrate. In the night you file the chain
+in two and go down the mountain. You walk for miles--hundreds of
+them. By and by the mountains are all gone, and you come to the
+prairies. They do not dance at night; they are merciful, and you
+sleep. Then you come to the river, and it says things to you. You
+follow it down, down, but you can't find what you are looking for."
+
+Mr. Jack leaned back in his chair, and his eyes slowly closed. The
+food and wine had steeped him in a deep calm. The tense strain had
+been smoothed from his face. The languor of repletion was claiming
+him. Drowsily he spoke again.
+
+"It's bad manners--I know--to go to sleep--at table--but--that
+was--such a good dinner--Grande, old fellow."
+
+_Grande!_ The owner of the name started and set down his glass.
+How should this wretched tatterdemalion whom he had invited,
+Caliph-like, to sit at his feet know his name?
+
+Not at first, but soon, little by little, the suspicion, wild and
+unreasonable as it was, stole into his brain. He drew out his watch
+with hands that almost balked him by their trembling, and opened the
+back case. There was a picture there--a photograph fixed to the
+inner side.
+
+Rising, Grandemont shook Mr. Jack by the shoulder. The weary guest
+opened his eyes. Grandemont held the watch.
+
+"Look at this picture, Mr. Jack. Have you ever--"
+
+"_My sister Adele!_"
+
+The vagrant's voice rang loud and sudden through the room. He
+started to his feet, but Grandemont's arms were about him, and
+Grandemont was calling him "Victor!--Victor Fauquier! _Merci, merci,
+mon Dieu!_"
+
+Too far overcome by sleep and fatigue was the lost one to talk that
+night. Days afterward, when the tropic _calentura_ had cooled in
+his veins, the disordered fragments he had spoken were completed in
+shape and sequence. He told the story of his angry flight, of toils
+and calamities on sea and shore, of his ebbing and flowing fortune
+in southern lands, and of his latest peril when, held a captive, he
+served menially in a stronghold of bandits in the Sonora Mountains
+of Mexico. And of the fever that seized him there and his escape and
+delirium, during which he strayed, perhaps led by some marvellous
+instinct, back to the river on whose bank he had been born. And of
+the proud and stubborn thing in his blood that had kept him silent
+through all those years, clouding the honour of one, though he knew
+it not, and keeping apart two loving hearts. "What a thing is love!"
+you may say. And if I grant it, you shall say, with me: "What a
+thing is pride!"
+
+On a couch in the reception chamber Victor lay, with a dawning
+understanding in his heavy eyes and peace in his softened
+countenance. Absalom was preparing a lounge for the transient
+master of Charleroi, who, to-morrow, would be again the clerk of a
+cotton-broker, but also--
+
+"To-morrow," Grandemont was saying, as he stood by the couch of his
+guest, speaking the words with his face shining as must have shone
+the face of Elijah's charioteer when he announced the glories of
+that heavenly journey--"To-morrow I will take you to Her."
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+ON BEHALF OF THE MANAGEMENT
+
+
+This is the story of the man manager, and how he held his own until
+the very last paragraph.
+
+I had it from Sully Magoon, _viva voce_. The words are indeed his;
+and if they do not constitute truthful fiction my memory should be
+taxed with the blame.
+
+It is not deemed amiss to point out, in the beginning, the stress
+that is laid upon the masculinity of the manager. For, according
+to Sully, the term when applied to the feminine division of
+mankind has precisely an opposite meaning. The woman manager (he
+says) economizes, saves, oppresses her household with bargains and
+contrivances, and looks sourly upon any pence that are cast to the
+fiddler for even a single jig-step on life's arid march. Wherefore
+her men-folk call her blessed, and praise her; and then sneak out
+the backdoor to see the Gilhooly Sisters do a buck-and-wing dance.
+
+Now, the man manager (I still quote Sully) is a Caesar without
+a Brutus. He is an autocrat without responsibility, a player
+who imperils no stake of his own. His office is to enact, to
+reverberate, to boom, to expand, to out-coruscate--profitably, if
+he can. Bill-paying and growing gray hairs over results belong to
+his principals. It is his to guide the risk, to be the Apotheosis
+of Front, the three-tailed Bashaw of Bluff, the Essential Oil of
+Razzle-Dazzle.
+
+We sat at luncheon, and Sully Magoon told me. I asked for
+particulars.
+
+"My old friend Denver Galloway was a born manager," said Sully. He
+first saw the light of day in New York at three years of age. He
+was born in Pittsburg, but his parents moved East the third summer
+afterward.
+
+"When Denver grew up, he went into the managing business. At the
+age of eight he managed a news-stand for the Dago that owned it.
+After that he was manager at different times of a skating-rink, a
+livery-stable, a policy game, a restaurant, a dancing academy, a
+walking match, a burlesque company, a dry-goods store, a dozen
+hotels and summer resorts, an insurance company, and a district
+leader's campaign. That campaign, when Coughlin was elected on
+the East Side, gave Denver a boost. It got him a job as manager
+of a Broadway hotel, and for a while he managed Senator O'Grady's
+campaign in the nineteenth.
+
+"Denver was a New Yorker all over. I think he was out of the city
+just twice before the time I'm going to tell you about. Once he went
+rabbit-shooting in Yonkers. The other time I met him just landing
+from a North River ferry. 'Been out West on a big trip, Sully, old
+boy,' says he. 'Gad! Sully, I had no idea we had such a big country.
+It's immense. Never conceived of the magnificence of the West
+before. It's gorgeous and glorious and infinite. Makes the East
+seemed cramped and little. It's a grand thing to travel and get an
+idea of the extent and resources of our country.'
+
+"I'd made several little runs out to California and down to Mexico
+and up through Alaska, so I sits down with Denver for a chat about
+the things he saw.
+
+"'Took in the Yosemite, out there, of course?' I asks.
+
+"'Well--no,' says Denver, 'I don't think so. At least, I don't
+recollect it. You see, I only had three days, and I didn't get any
+farther west than Youngstown, Ohio.'
+
+"About two years ago I dropped into New York with a little fly-paper
+proposition about a Tennessee mica mine that I wanted to spread
+out in a nice, sunny window, in the hopes of catching a few. I was
+coming out of a printing-shop one afternoon with a batch of fine,
+sticky prospectuses when I ran against Denver coming round a corner.
+I never saw him looking so much like a tiger-lily. He was as
+beautiful and new as a trellis of sweet peas, and as rollicking as
+a clarinet solo. We shook hands, and he asked me what I was doing,
+and I gave him the outlines of the scandal I was trying to create in
+mica.
+
+"'Pooh, pooh! for your mica,' says Denver. 'Don't you know better,
+Sully, than to bump up against the coffers of little old New York
+with anything as transparent as mica? Now, you come with me over to
+the Hotel Brunswick. You're just the man I was hoping for. I've got
+something there in sepia and curled hair that I want you to look
+at.'
+
+"'You putting up at the Brunswick?' I asks.
+
+"'Not a cent,' says Denver, cheerful. 'The syndicate that owns the
+hotel puts up. I'm manager.'
+
+"The Brunswick wasn't one of them Broadway pot-houses all full of
+palms and hyphens and flowers and costumes--kind of a mixture of
+lawns and laundries. It was on one of the East Side avenues; but it
+was a solid, old-time caravansary such as the Mayor of Skaneateles
+or the Governor of Missouri might stop at. Eight stories high it
+stalked up, with new striped awnings, and the electrics had it as
+light as day.
+
+"'I've been manager here for a year,' says Denver, as we drew nigh.
+'When I took charge,' says he, 'nobody nor nothing ever stopped at
+the Brunswick. The clock over the clerks' desk used to run for weeks
+without winding. A man fell dead with heart-disease on the sidewalk
+in front of it one day, and when they went to pick him up he was two
+blocks away. I figured out a scheme to catch the West Indies and
+South American trade. I persuaded the owners to invest a few more
+thousands, and I put every cent of it in electric lights, cayenne
+pepper, gold-leaf, and garlic. I got a Spanish-speaking force of
+employees and a string band; and there was talk going round of a
+cockfight in the basement every Sunday. Maybe I didn't catch the
+nut-brown gang! From Havana to Patagonia the Don Senors knew about
+the Brunswick. We get the highfliers from Cuba and Mexico and the
+couple of Americas farther south; and they've simply got the boodle
+to bombard every bulfinch in the bush with.'
+
+"When we got to the hotel, Denver stops me at the door.
+
+"'There's a little liver-coloured man,' says he, 'sitting in a big
+leather chair to your right, inside. You sit down and watch him for
+a few minutes, and then tell me what you think.'
+
+"I took a chair, while Denver circulates around in the big rotunda.
+The room was about full of curly-headed Cubans and South American
+brunettes of different shades; and the atmosphere was international
+with cigarette smoke, lit up by diamond rings and edged off with a
+whisper of garlic.
+
+"That Denver Galloway was sure a relief to the eye. Six feet two
+he was, red-headed and pink-gilled as a sun-perch. And the air he
+had! Court of Saint James, Chauncy Olcott, Kentucky colonels, Count
+of Monte Cristo, grand opera--all these things he reminded you of
+when he was doing the honours. When he raised his finger the hotel
+porters and bell-boys skated across the floor like cockroaches, and
+even the clerk behind the desk looked as meek and unimportant as
+Andy Carnegie.
+
+"Denver passed around, shaking hands with his guests, and saying
+over the two or three Spanish words he knew until it was like a
+coronation rehearsal or a Bryan barbecue in Texas.
+
+"I watched the little man he told me to. 'Twas a little foreign
+person in a double-breasted frock-coat, trying to touch the floor
+with his toes. He was the colour of vici kid, and his whiskers was
+like excelsior made out of mahogany wood. He breathed hard, and
+he never once took his eyes off of Denver. There was a look of
+admiration and respect on his face like you see on a boy that's
+following a champion base-ball team, or the Kaiser William looking
+at himself in a glass.
+
+"After Denver goes his rounds he takes me into his private office.
+
+"'What's your report on the dingy I told you to watch?' he asks.
+
+"'Well,' says I, 'if you was as big a man as he takes you to be,
+nine rooms and bath in the Hall of Fame, rent free till October 1st,
+would be about your size.'
+
+"'You've caught the idea,' says Denver. 'I've given him the wizard
+grip and the cabalistic eye. The glamour that emanates from yours
+truly has enveloped him like a North River fog. He seems to think
+that Senor Galloway is the man who. I guess they don't raise 74-inch
+sorrel-tops with romping ways down in his precinct. Now, Sully,'
+goes on Denver, 'if you was asked, what would you take the little
+man to be?'
+
+"'Why,' says I, 'the barber around the corner; or, if he's royal,
+the king of the boot-blacks.'
+
+"'Never judge by looks,' says Denver; 'he's the dark-horse candidate
+for president of a South American republic.'
+
+"'Well,' says I, 'he didn't look quite that bad to me.'
+
+"Then Denver draws his chair up close and gives out his scheme.
+
+"'Sully,' says he, with seriousness and levity, 'I've been a manager
+of one thing and another for over twenty years. That's what I was
+cut out for--to have somebody else to put up the money and look
+after the repairs and the police and taxes while I run the business.
+I never had a dollar of my own invested in my life. I wouldn't know
+how it felt to have the dealer rake in a coin of mine. But I can
+handle other people's stuff and manage other people's enterprises.
+I've had an ambition to get hold of something big--something higher
+than hotels and lumber-yards and local politics. I want to be
+manager of something way up--like a railroad or a diamond trust
+or an automobile factory. Now here comes this little man from the
+tropics with just what I want, and he's offered me the job.'
+
+"'What job?' I asks. 'Is he going to revive the Georgia Minstrels or
+open a cigar store?'
+
+"'He's no 'coon,' says Denver. 'He's General Rompiro--General Josey
+Alfonso Sapolio Jew-Ann Rompiro--he has his cards printed by a
+news-ticker. He's the real thing, Sully, and he wants me to manage
+his campaign--he wants Denver C. Galloway for a president-maker.
+Think of that, Sully! Old Denver romping down to the tropics,
+plucking lotus-flowers and pineapples with one hand and making
+presidents with the other! Won't it make Uncle Mark Hanna mad? And I
+want you to go too, Sully. You can help me more than any man I know.
+I've been herding that brown man for a month in the hotel so he
+wouldn't stray down Fourteenth Street and get roped in by that crowd
+of refugee tamale-eaters down there. And he's landed, and D. C. G.
+is manager of General J. A. S. J. Rompiro's presidential campaign in
+the great republic of--what's its name?'
+
+"Denver gets down an atlas from a shelf, and we have a look at the
+afflicted country. 'Twas a dark blue one, on the west coast, about
+the size of a special delivery stamp.
+
+"'From what the General tells me,' says Denver, 'and from what I
+can gather from the encyclopaedia and by conversing with the janitor
+of the Astor Library, it'll be as easy to handle the vote of that
+country as it would be for Tammany to get a man named Geoghan
+appointed on the White Wings force.'
+
+"'Why don't General Rumptyro stay at home,' says I, 'and manage his
+own canvass?'
+
+"'You don't understand South American politics,' says Denver,
+getting out the cigars. 'It's this way. General Rompiro had the
+misfortune of becoming a popular idol. He distinguished himself
+by leading the army in pursuit of a couple of sailors who had
+stolen the plaza--or the carramba, or something belonging to the
+government. The people called him a hero and the government got
+jealous. The president sends for the chief of the Department of
+Public Edifices. "Find me a nice, clean adobe wall," says he, "and
+send Senor Rompiro up against it. Then call out a file of soldiers
+and--then let him be up against it." Something,' goes on Denver,
+'like the way they've treated Hobson and Carrie Nation in our
+country. So the General had to flee. But he was thoughtful enough
+to bring along his roll. He's got sinews of war enough to buy a
+battleship and float her off in the christening fluid.'
+
+"'What chance has he got to be president?'
+
+"'Wasn't I just giving you his rating?' says Denver. 'His country
+is one of the few in South America where the presidents are elected
+by popular ballot. The General can't go there just now. It hurts
+to be shot against a wall. He needs a campaign manager to go down
+and whoop things up for him--to get the boys in line and the new
+two-dollar bills afloat and the babies kissed and the machine in
+running order. Sully, I don't want to brag, but you remember how I
+brought Coughlin under the wire for leader of the nineteenth? Ours
+was the banner district. Don't you suppose I know how to manage a
+little monkey-cage of a country like that? Why, with the dough the
+General's willing to turn loose I could put two more coats of Japan
+varnish on him and have him elected Governor of Georgia. New York
+has got the finest lot of campaign managers in the world, Sully, and
+you give me a feeling of hauteur when you cast doubts on my ability
+to handle the political situation in a country so small that they
+have to print the names of the towns in the appendix and footnotes.'
+
+"I argued with Denver some. I told him that politics down in that
+tropical atmosphere was bound to be different from the nineteenth
+district; but I might just as well have been a Congressman from
+North Dakota trying to get an appropriation for a lighthouse and a
+coast survey. Denver Galloway had ambitions in the manager line, and
+what I said didn't amount to as much as a fig-leaf at the National
+Dressmakers' Convention. 'I'll give you three days to cogitate about
+going,' says Denver; 'and I'll introduce you to General Rompiro
+to-morrow, so you can get his ideas drawn right from the rose wood.'
+
+"I put on my best reception-to-Booker-Washington manner the next
+day and tapped the distinguished rubber-plant for what he knew.
+
+"General Rompiro wasn't so gloomy inside as he appeared on the
+surface. He was polite enough; and he exuded a number of sounds that
+made a fair stagger at arranging themselves into language. It was
+English he aimed at, and when his system of syntax reached your
+mind it wasn't past you to understand it. If you took a college
+professor's magazine essay and a Chinese laundryman's explanation
+of a lost shirt and jumbled 'em together, you'd have about what the
+General handed you out for conversation. He told me all about his
+bleeding country, and what they were trying to do for it before the
+doctor came. But he mostly talked of Denver C. Galloway.
+
+"'Ah, senor,' says he, 'that is the most fine of mans. Never I have
+seen one man so magnifico, so gr-r-rand, so conformable to make done
+things so swiftly by other mans. He shall make other mans do the
+acts and himself to order and regulate, until we arrive at seeing
+accomplishments of a suddenly. Oh, yes, senor. In my countree there
+is not such mans of so beegness, so good talk, so compliments, so
+strongness of sense and such. Ah, that Senor Galloway!'
+
+"'Yes,' says I, 'old Denver is the boy you want. He's managed every
+kind of business here except filibustering, and he might as well
+complete the list.'
+
+"Before the three days was up I decided to join Denver in his
+campaign. Denver got three months' vacation from his hotel owners.
+For a week we lived in a room with the General, and got all the
+pointers about his country that we could interpret from the noises
+he made. When we got ready to start, Denver had a pocket full of
+memorandums, and letters from the General to his friends, and a list
+of names and addresses of loyal politicians who would help along
+the boom of the exiled popular idol. Besides these liabilities we
+carried assets to the amount of $20,000 in assorted United States
+currency. General Rompiro looked like a burnt effigy, but he was
+Br'er Fox himself when it came to the real science of politics.
+
+"'Here is moneys,' says the General, 'of a small amount. There is
+more with me--moocho more. Plentee moneys shall you be supplied,
+Senor Galloway. More I shall send you at all times that you need.
+I shall desire to pay feefty--one hundred thousand pesos, if
+necessario, to be elect. How no? Sacramento! If that I am president
+and do not make one meelion dolla in the one year you shall keek me
+on that side!--_valgame Dios!_'
+
+"Denver got a Cuban cigar-maker to fix up a little cipher code with
+English and Spanish words, and gave the General a copy, so we could
+cable him bulletins about the election, or for more money, and then
+we were ready to start. General Rompiro escorted us to the steamer.
+On the pier he hugged Denver around the waist and sobbed. 'Noble
+mans,' says he, 'General Rompiro propels you into his confidence
+and trust. Go, in the hands of the saints to do the work for your
+friend. _Viva la libertad!_'
+
+"'Sure,' says Denver. 'And viva la liberality an' la soaperino and
+hoch der land of the lotus and the vote us. Don't worry, General.
+We'll have you elected as sure as bananas grow upside down.'
+
+"'Make pictures on me,' pleads the General--'make pictures on me for
+money as it is needful.'
+
+"'Does he want to be tattooed, would you think?' asks Denver,
+wrinkling up his eyes.
+
+"'Stupid!' says I. 'He wants you to draw on him for election
+expenses. It'll be worse than tattooing. More like an autopsy.'
+
+"Me and Denver steamed down to Panama, and then hiked across the
+Isthmus, and then by steamer again down to the town of Espiritu on
+the coast of the General's country.
+
+"That was a town to send J. Howard Payne to the growler. I'll tell
+you how you could make one like it. Take a lot of Filipino huts and
+a couple of hundred brick-kilns and arrange 'em in squares in a
+cemetery. Cart down all the conservatory plants in the Astor and
+Vanderbilt greenhouses, and stick 'em about wherever there's room.
+Turn all the Bellevue patients and the barbers' convention and the
+Tuskegee school loose in the streets, and run the thermometer up to
+120 in the shade. Set a fringe of the Rocky Mountains around the
+rear, let it rain, and set the whole business on Rockaway Beach in
+the middle of January--and you'd have a good imitation of Espiritu.
+
+"It took me and Denver about a week to get acclimated. Denver sent
+out the letters the General had given him, and notified the rest of
+the gang that there was something doing at the captain's office. We
+set up headquarters in an old 'dobe house on a side street where
+the grass was waist high. The election was only four weeks off; but
+there wasn't any excitement. The home candidate for president was
+named Roadrickeys. This town of Esperitu wasn't the capital any more
+than Cleveland, Ohio, is the capital of the United States, but it
+was the political centre where they cooked up revolutions, and made
+up the slates.
+
+"At the end of the week Denver says the machine is started running.
+
+"'Sully,' says he, 'we've got a walkover. Just because General
+Rompiro ain't Don Juan-on-the-spot the other crowd ain't at work.
+They're as full of apathy as a territorial delegate during the
+chaplain's prayer. Now, we want to introduce a little hot stuff in
+the way of campaigning, and we'll surprise 'em at the polls.'
+
+"'How are you going to go about it?' I asks.
+
+"'Why, the usual way,' says Denver, surprised. 'We'll get the
+orators on our side out every night to make speeches in the native
+lingo, and have torch-light parades under the shade of the palms,
+and free drinks, and buy up all the brass bands, of course,
+and--well, I'll turn the baby-kissing over to you, Sully--I've seen
+a lot of 'em.'
+
+"'What else?' says I.
+
+"'Why, you know,' says Denver. 'We get the heelers out with the
+crackly two-spots, and coal-tickets, and orders for groceries, and
+have a couple of picnics out under the banyan-trees, and dances in
+the Firemen's Hall--and the usual things. But first of all, Sully,
+I'm going to have the biggest clam-bake down on the beach that was
+ever seen south of the tropic of Capricorn. I figured that out from
+the start. We'll stuff the whole town and the jungle folk for miles
+around with clams. That's the first thing on the programme. Suppose
+you go out now, and make the arrangements for that. I want to look
+over the estimates the General made of the vote in the coast
+districts.'
+
+"I had learned some Spanish in Mexico, so I goes out, as Denver
+says, and in fifteen minutes I come back to headquarters.
+
+"'If there ever was a clam in this country nobody ever saw it,' I
+says.
+
+"'Great sky-rockets!' says Denver, with his mouth and eyes open. 'No
+clams? How in the--who ever saw a country without clams? What kind
+of a--how's an election to be pulled off without a clam-bake, I'd
+like to know? Are you sure there's no clams, Sully?'
+
+"'Not even a can,' says I.
+
+"'Then for God's sake go out and try to find what the people here do
+eat. We've got to fill 'em up with grub of some kind.'
+
+"I went out again. Denver was manager. In half an hour I gets back.
+
+"'They eat,' says I, 'tortillas, cassava, carne de chivo, arroz con
+pollo, aquacates, zapates, yucca, and huevos fritos.'
+
+"'A man that would eat them things,' says Denver, getting a little
+mad, 'ought to have his vote challenged.'
+
+"In a few more days the campaign managers from the other towns came
+sliding into Esperitu. Our headquarters was a busy place. We had
+an interpreter, and ice-water, and drinks, and cigars, and Denver
+flashed the General's roll so often that it got so small you
+couldn't have bought a Republican vote in Ohio with it.
+
+"And then Denver cabled to General Rompiro for ten thousand dollars
+more and got it.
+
+"There were a number of Americans in Esperitu, but they were all
+in business or grafts of some kind, and wouldn't take any hand in
+politics, which was sensible enough. But they showed me and Denver a
+fine time, and fixed us up so we could get decent things to eat and
+drink. There was one American, named Hicks, used to come and loaf at
+the headquarters. Hicks had had fourteen years of Esperitu. He was
+six feet four and weighed in at 135. Cocoa was his line; and coast
+fever and the climate had taken all the life out of him. They said
+he hadn't smiled in eight years. His face was three feet long, and
+it never moved except when he opened it to take quinine. He used to
+sit in our headquarters and kill fleas and talk sarcastic.
+
+"'I don't take much interest in politics,' says Hicks, one day, 'but
+I'd like you to tell me what you're trying to do down here,
+Galloway?'
+
+"'We're boosting General Rompiro, of course,' says Denver. 'We're
+going to put him in the presidential chair. I'm his manager.'
+
+"'Well,' says Hicks, 'if I was you I'd be a little slower about it.
+You've got a long time ahead of you, you know.'
+
+"'Not any longer than I need,' says Denver.
+
+"Denver went ahead and worked things smooth. He dealt out money on
+the quiet to his lieutenants, and they were always coming after it.
+There was free drinks for everybody in town, and bands playing every
+night, and fireworks, and there was a lot of heelers going around
+buying up votes day and night for the new style of politics in
+Espiritu, and everybody liked it.
+
+"The day set for the election was November 4th. On the night before
+Denver and me were smoking our pipes in headquarters, and in comes
+Hicks and unjoints himself, and sits in a chair, mournful. Denver
+is cheerful and confident. 'Rompiro will win in a romp,' says he.
+'We'll carry the country by 10,000. It's all over but the vivas.
+To-morrow will tell the tale.'
+
+"'What's going to happen to-morrow?' asks Hicks.
+
+"'Why, the presidential election, of course,' says Denver.
+
+"'Say,' says Hicks, looking kind of funny, 'didn't anybody tell you
+fellows that the election was held a week before you came? Congress
+changed the date to July 27th. Roadrickeys was elected by 17,000.
+I thought you was booming old Rompiro for next term, two years
+from now. Wondered if you was going to keep up such a hot lick that
+long.'
+
+"I dropped my pipe on the floor. Denver bit the stem off of his.
+Neither of us said anything.
+
+"And then I heard a sound like somebody ripping a clapboard off of a
+barn-roof. 'Twas Hicks laughing for the first time in eight years."
+
+Sully Magoon paused while the waiter poured us a black coffee.
+
+"Your friend was, indeed, something of a manager," I said.
+
+"Wait a minute," said Sully, "I haven't given you any idea of what
+he could do yet. That's all to come.
+
+"When we got back to New York there was General Rompiro waiting for
+us on the pier. He was dancing like a cinnamon bear, all impatient
+for the news, for Denver had just cabled him when we would arrive
+and nothing more.
+
+"'Am I elect?' he shouts. 'Am I elect, friend of mine? Is that mine
+country have demand General Rompiro for the president? The last
+dollar of mine have I sent you that last time. It is necessario that
+I am elect. I have not more money. Am I elect, Senor Galloway?'
+
+"Denver turns to me.
+
+"'Leave me with old Rompey, Sully,' he says. 'I've got to break it
+to him gently. 'Twould be indecent for other eyes to witness the
+operation. This is the time, Sully,' says he, 'when old Denver has
+got to make good as a jollier and a silver-tongued sorcerer, or else
+give up all the medals he's earned.'
+
+"A couple of days later I went around to the hotel. There was Denver
+in his old place, looking like the hero of two historical novels,
+and telling 'em what a fine time he'd had down on his orange
+plantation in Florida.
+
+"'Did you fix things up with the General?' I asks him.
+
+"'Did I?' says Denver. 'Come and see.'
+
+"He takes me by the arm and walks me to the dining-room door. There
+was a little chocolate-brown fat man in a dress suit, with his face
+shining with joy as he swelled himself and skipped about the floor.
+Danged if Denver hadn't made General Rompiro head waiter of the
+Hotel Brunswick!"
+
+"Is Mr. Galloway still in the managing business?" I asked, as Mr.
+Magoon ceased.
+
+Sully shook his head.
+
+"Denver married an auburn-haired widow that owns a big hotel in
+Harlem. He just helps around the place."
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+WHISTLING DICK'S CHRISTMAS STOCKING
+
+
+It was with much caution that Whistling Dick slid back the door of
+the box-car, for Article 5716, City Ordinances, authorized (perhaps
+unconstitutionally) arrest on suspicion, and he was familiar of old
+with this ordinance. So, before climbing out, he surveyed the field
+with all the care of a good general.
+
+He saw no change since his last visit to this big, alms-giving,
+long-suffering city of the South, the cold weather paradise of the
+tramps. The levee where his freight-car stood was pimpled with dark
+bulks of merchandise. The breeze reeked with the well-remembered,
+sickening smell of the old tarpaulins that covered bales and
+barrels. The dun river slipped along among the shipping with an oily
+gurgle. Far down toward Chalmette he could see the great bend in the
+stream, outlined by the row of electric lights. Across the river
+Algiers lay, a long, irregular blot, made darker by the dawn which
+lightened the sky beyond. An industrious tug or two, coming for
+some early sailing ship, gave a few appalling toots, that seemed to
+be the signal for breaking day. The Italian luggers were creeping
+nearer their landing, laden with early vegetables and shellfish. A
+vague roar, subterranean in quality, from dray wheels and street
+cars, began to make itself heard and felt; and the ferryboats, the
+Mary Anns of water craft, stirred sullenly to their menial morning
+tasks.
+
+Whistling Dick's red head popped suddenly back into the car. A sight
+too imposing and magnificent for his gaze had been added to the
+scene. A vast, incomparable policeman rounded a pile of rice sacks
+and stood within twenty yards of the car. The daily miracle of the
+dawn, now being performed above Algiers, received the flattering
+attention of this specimen of municipal official splendour. He
+gazed with unbiased dignity at the faintly glowing colours until,
+at last, he turned to them his broad back, as if convinced that
+legal interference was not needed, and the sunrise might proceed
+unchecked. So he turned his face to the rice bags, and, drawing
+a flat flask from an inside pocket, he placed it to his lips and
+regarded the firmament.
+
+Whistling Dick, professional tramp, possessed a half-friendly
+acquaintance with this officer. They had met several times before on
+the levee at night, for the officer, himself a lover of music, had
+been attracted by the exquisite whistling of the shiftless vagabond.
+Still, he did not care, under the present circumstances, to renew
+the acquaintance. There is a difference between meeting a policeman
+on a lonely wharf and whistling a few operatic airs with him, and
+being caught by him crawling out of a freight-car. So Dick waited,
+as even a New Orleans policeman must move on some time--perhaps
+it is a retributive law of nature--and before long "Big Fritz"
+majestically disappeared between the trains of cars.
+
+Whistling Dick waited as long as his judgment advised, and then
+slid swiftly to the ground. Assuming as far as possible the air of
+an honest labourer who seeks his daily toil, he moved across the
+network of railway lines, with the intention of making his way by
+quiet Girod Street to a certain bench in Lafayette Square, where,
+according to appointment, he hoped to rejoin a pal known as "Slick,"
+this adventurous pilgrim having preceded him by one day in a
+cattle-car into which a loose slat had enticed him.
+
+As Whistling Dick picked his way where night still lingered among
+the big, reeking, musty warehouses, he gave way to the habit that
+had won for him his title. Subdued, yet clear, with each note as
+true and liquid as a bobolink's, his whistle tinkled about the dim,
+cold mountains of brick like drops of rain falling into a hidden
+pool. He followed an air, but it swam mistily into a swirling
+current of improvisation. You could cull out the trill of mountain
+brooks, the staccato of green rushes shivering above chilly lagoons,
+the pipe of sleepy birds.
+
+Rounding a corner, the whistler collided with a mountain of blue and
+brass.
+
+"So," observed the mountain calmly, "You are already pack. Und dere
+vill not pe frost before two veeks yet! Und you haf forgotten how to
+vistle. Dere was a valse note in dot last bar."
+
+"Watcher know about it?" said Whistling Dick, with tentative
+familiarity; "you wit yer little Gherman-band nixcumrous chunes.
+Watcher know about music? Pick yer ears, and listen agin. Here's de
+way I whistled it--see?"
+
+He puckered his lips, but the big policeman held up his hand.
+
+"Shtop," he said, "und learn der right way. Und learn also dot a
+rolling shtone can't vistle for a cent."
+
+Big Fritz's heavy moustache rounded into a circle, and from its
+depths came a sound deep and mellow as that from a flute. He
+repeated a few bars of the air the tramp had been whistling. The
+rendition was cold, but correct, and he emphasized the note he had
+taken exception to.
+
+"Dot p is p natural, und not p vlat. Py der vay, you petter pe glad
+I meet you. Von hour later, und I vould half to put you in a gage
+to vistle mit der chail pirds. Der orders are to bull all der pums
+after sunrise."
+
+"To which?"
+
+"To bull der pums--eferybody mitout fisible means. Dirty days is der
+price, or fifteen tollars."
+
+"Is dat straight, or a game you givin' me?"
+
+"It's der pest tip you efer had. I gif it to you pecause I pelief
+you are not so bad as der rest. Und pecause you gan visl 'Der
+Freischuetz' bezzer dan I myself gan. Don't run against any more
+bolicemans aroundt der corners, but go away from town a few tays.
+Good-pye."
+
+So Madame Orleans had at last grown weary of the strange and ruffled
+brood that came yearly to nestle beneath her charitable pinions.
+
+After the big policeman had departed, Whistling Dick stood for
+an irresolute minute, feeling all the outraged indignation of a
+delinquent tenant who is ordered to vacate his premises. He had
+pictured to himself a day of dreamful ease when he should have
+joined his pal; a day of lounging on the wharf, munching the bananas
+and cocoanuts scattered in unloading the fruit steamers; and then
+a feast along the free-lunch counters from which the easy-going
+owners were too good-natured or too generous to drive him away, and
+afterward a pipe in one of the little flowery parks and a snooze
+in some shady corner of the wharf. But here was a stern order to
+exile, and one that he knew must be obeyed. So, with a wary eye
+open for the gleam of brass buttons, he began his retreat toward a
+rural refuge. A few days in the country need not necessarily prove
+disastrous. Beyond the possibility of a slight nip of frost, there
+was no formidable evil to be looked for.
+
+However, it was with a depressed spirit that Whistling Dick passed
+the old French market on his chosen route down the river. For
+safety's sake he still presented to the world his portrayal of the
+part of the worthy artisan on his way to labour. A stall-keeper in
+the market, undeceived, hailed him by the generic name of his ilk,
+and "Jack" halted, taken by surprise. The vender, melted by this
+proof of his own acuteness, bestowed a foot of Frankfurter and half
+a loaf, and thus the problem of breakfast was solved.
+
+When the streets, from topographical reasons, began to shun the
+river bank the exile mounted to the top of the levee, and on its
+well-trodden path pursued his way. The suburban eye regarded him
+with cold suspicion, individuals reflected the stern spirit of the
+city's heartless edict. He missed the seclusion of the crowded town
+and the safety he could always find in the multitude.
+
+At Chalmette, six miles upon his desultory way, there suddenly
+menaced him a vast and bewildering industry. A new port was being
+established; the dock was being built, compresses were going up;
+picks and shovels and barrows struck at him like serpents from every
+side. An arrogant foreman bore down upon him, estimating his muscles
+with the eye of a recruiting-sergeant. Brown men and black men all
+about him were toiling away. He fled in terror.
+
+By noon he had reached the country of the plantations, the great,
+sad, silent levels bordering the mighty river. He overlooked fields
+of sugar-cane so vast that their farthest limits melted into the
+sky. The sugar-making season was well advanced, and the cutters
+were at work; the waggons creaked drearily after them; the Negro
+teamsters inspired the mules to greater speed with mellow and
+sonorous imprecations. Dark-green groves, blurred by the blue
+of distance, showed where the plantation-houses stood. The tall
+chimneys of the sugar-mills caught the eye miles distant, like
+lighthouses at sea.
+
+At a certain point Whistling Dick's unerring nose caught the scent
+of frying fish. Like a pointer to a quail, he made his way down
+the levee side straight to the camp of a credulous and ancient
+fisherman, whom he charmed with song and story, so that he dined
+like an admiral, and then like a philosopher annihilated the worst
+three hours of the day by a nap under the trees.
+
+When he awoke and again continued his hegira, a frosty sparkle in
+the air had succeeded the drowsy warmth of the day, and as this
+portent of a chilly night translated itself to the brain of Sir
+Peregrine, he lengthened his stride and bethought him of shelter. He
+travelled a road that faithfully followed the convolutions of the
+levee, running along its base, but whither he knew not. Bushes and
+rank grass crowded it to the wheel ruts, and out of this ambuscade
+the pests of the lowlands swarmed after him, humming a keen, vicious
+soprano. And as the night grew nearer, although colder, the whine
+of the mosquitoes became a greedy, petulant snarl that shut out all
+other sounds. To his right, against the heavens, he saw a green
+light moving, and, accompanying it, the masts and funnels of a big
+incoming steamer, moving as upon a screen at a magic-lantern show.
+And there were mysterious marshes at his left, out of which came
+queer gurgling cries and a choked croaking. The whistling vagrant
+struck up a merry warble to offset these melancholy influences, and
+it is likely that never before, since Pan himself jigged it on his
+reeds, had such sounds been heard in those depressing solitudes.
+
+A distant clatter in the rear quickly developed into the swift beat
+of horses' hoofs, and Whistling Dick stepped aside into the dew-wet
+grass to clear the track. Turning his head, he saw approaching a
+fine team of stylish grays drawing a double surrey. A stout man
+with a white moustache occupied the front seat, giving all his
+attention to the rigid lines in his hands. Behind him sat a placid,
+middle-aged lady and a brilliant-looking girl hardly arrived at
+young ladyhood. The lap-robe had slipped partly from the knees of
+the gentleman driving, and Whistling Dick saw two stout canvas bags
+between his feet--bags such as, while loafing in cities, he had
+seen warily transferred between express waggons and bank doors. The
+remaining space in the vehicle was filled with parcels of various
+sizes and shapes.
+
+As the surrey swept even with the sidetracked tramp, the bright-eyed
+girl, seized by some merry, madcap impulse, leaned out toward him
+with a sweet, dazzling smile, and cried, "Mer-ry Christ-mas!" in a
+shrill, plaintive treble.
+
+Such a thing had not often happened to Whistling Dick, and he felt
+handicapped in devising the correct response. But lacking time
+for reflection, he let his instinct decide, and snatching off his
+battered derby, he rapidly extended it at arm's length, and drew it
+back with a continuous motion, and shouted a loud, but ceremonious,
+"Ah, there!" after the flying surrey.
+
+The sudden movement of the girl had caused one of the parcels to
+become unwrapped, and something limp and black fell from it into the
+road. The tramp picked it up, and found it to be a new black silk
+stocking, long and fine and slender. It crunched crisply, and yet
+with a luxurious softness, between his fingers.
+
+"Ther bloomin' little skeezicks!" said Whistling Dick, with a broad
+grin bisecting his freckled face. "W'ot d' yer think of dat, now!
+Mer-ry Chris-mus! Sounded like a cuckoo clock, da'ts what she did.
+Dem guys is swells, too, bet yer life, an' der old 'un stacks dem
+sacks of dough down under his trotters like dey was common as dried
+apples. Been shoppin' for Chrismus, and de kid's lost one of her new
+socks w'ot she was goin' to hold up Santy wid. De bloomin' little
+skeezicks! Wit' her 'Mer-ry Chris-mus!' W'ot d' yer t'ink! Same as
+to say, 'Hello, Jack, how goes it?' and as swell as Fift' Av'noo,
+and as easy as a blowout in Cincinnat."
+
+Whistling Dick folded the stocking carefully, and stuffed it into
+his pocket.
+
+It was nearly two hours later when he came upon signs of habitation.
+The buildings of an extensive plantation were brought into view by
+a turn in the road. He easily selected the planter's residence in
+a large square building with two wings, with numerous good-sized,
+well-lighted windows, and broad verandas running around its full
+extent. It was set upon a smooth lawn, which was faintly lit by the
+far-reaching rays of the lamps within. A noble grove surrounded it,
+and old-fashioned shrubbery grew thickly about the walks and fences.
+The quarters of the hands and the mill buildings were situated at a
+distance in the rear.
+
+The road was now enclosed on each side by a fence, and presently,
+as Whistling Dick drew nearer the house, he suddenly stopped and
+sniffed the air.
+
+"If dere ain't a hobo stew cookin' somewhere in dis immediate
+precinct," he said to himself, "me nose has quit tellin' de trut'."
+
+Without hesitation he climbed the fence to windward. He found
+himself in an apparently disused lot, where piles of old bricks were
+stacked, and rejected, decaying lumber. In a corner he saw the faint
+glow of a fire that had become little more than a bed of living
+coals, and he thought he could see some dim human forms sitting or
+lying about it. He drew nearer, and by the light of a little blaze
+that suddenly flared up he saw plainly the fat figure of a ragged
+man in an old brown sweater and cap.
+
+"Dat man," said Whistling Dick to himself softly, "is a dead ringer
+for Boston Harry. I'll try him wit de high sign."
+
+He whistled one or two bars of a rag-time melody, and the air was
+immediately taken up, and then quickly ended with a peculiar run.
+The first whistler walked confidently up to the fire. The fat man
+looked up, and spake in a loud, asthmatic wheeze:
+
+"Gents, the unexpected but welcome addition to our circle is Mr.
+Whistling Dick, an old friend of mine for whom I fully vouches. The
+waiter will lay another cover at once. Mr. W. D. will join us at
+supper, during which function he will enlighten us in regard to the
+circumstances that gave us the pleasure of his company."
+
+"Chewin' de stuffin' out 'n de dictionary, as usual, Boston," said
+Whistling Dick; "but t'anks all de same for de invitashun. I guess I
+finds meself here about de same way as yous guys. A cop gimme de tip
+dis mornin'. Yous workin' on dis farm?"
+
+"A guest," said Boston, sternly, "shouldn't never insult his
+entertainers until he's filled up wid grub. 'Tain't good business
+sense. Workin'!--but I will restrain myself. We five--me, Deaf Pete,
+Blinky, Goggles, and Indiana Tom--got put on to this scheme of Noo
+Orleans to work visiting gentlemen upon her dirty streets, and we
+hit the road last evening just as the tender hues of twilight had
+flopped down upon the daisies and things. Blinky, pass the empty
+oyster-can at your left to the empty gentleman at your right."
+
+For the next ten minutes the gang of roadsters paid their undivided
+attention to the supper. In an old five-gallon kerosene can they had
+cooked a stew of potatoes, meat, and onions, which they partook of
+from smaller cans they had found scattered about the vacant lot.
+
+Whistling Dick had known Boston Harry of old, and knew him to be one
+of the shrewdest and most successful of his brotherhood. He looked
+like a prosperous stock-drover or solid merchant from some country
+village. He was stout and hale, with a ruddy, always smoothly
+shaven face. His clothes were strong and neat, and he gave special
+attention to his decent-appearing shoes. During the past ten
+years he had acquired a reputation for working a larger number of
+successfully managed confidence games than any of his acquaintances,
+and he had not a day's work to be counted against him. It was
+rumoured among his associates that he had saved a considerable
+amount of money. The four other men were fair specimens of the
+slinking, ill-clad, noisome genus who carried their labels of
+"suspicious" in plain view.
+
+After the bottom of the large can had been scraped, and pipes lit
+at the coals, two of the men called Boston aside and spake with him
+lowly and mysteriously. He nodded decisively, and then said aloud to
+Whistling Dick:
+
+"Listen, sonny, to some plain talky-talk. We five are on a lay. I've
+guaranteed you to be square, and you're to come in on the profits
+equal with the boys, and you've got to help. Two hundred hands on
+this plantation are expecting to be paid a week's wages to-morrow
+morning. To-morrow's Christmas, and they want to lay off. Says the
+boss: 'Work from five to nine in the morning to get a train load of
+sugar off, and I'll pay every man cash down for the week and a day
+extra.' They say: 'Hooray for the boss! It goes.' He drives to Noo
+Orleans to-day, and fetches back the cold dollars. Two thousand and
+seventy-four fifty is the amount. I got the figures from a man who
+talks too much, who got 'em from the bookkeeper. The boss of this
+plantation thinks he's going to pay this wealth to the hands. He's
+got it down wrong; he's going to pay it to us. It's going to stay
+in the leisure class, where it belongs. Now, half of this haul
+goes to me, and the other half the rest of you may divide. Why the
+difference? I represent the brains. It's my scheme. Here's the way
+we're going to get it. There's some company at supper in the house,
+but they'll leave about nine. They've just happened in for an hour
+or so. If they don't go pretty soon, we'll work the scheme anyhow.
+We want all night to get away good with the dollars. They're heavy.
+About nine o'clock Deaf Pete and Blinky'll go down the road about a
+quarter beyond the house, and set fire to a big cane-field there
+that the cutters haven't touched yet. The wind's just right to have
+it roaring in two minutes. The alarm'll be given, and every man Jack
+about the place will be down there in ten minutes, fighting fire.
+That'll leave the money sacks and the women alone in the house for
+us to handle. You've heard cane burn? Well, there's mighty few women
+can screech loud enough to be heard above its crackling. The thing's
+dead safe. The only danger is in being caught before we can get far
+enough away with the money. Now, if you--"
+
+"Boston," interrupted Whistling Dick, rising to his feet, "T'anks
+for the grub yous fellers has given me, but I'll be movin' on now."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Boston, also rising.
+
+"W'y, you can count me outer dis deal. You oughter know that. I'm
+on de bum all right enough, but dat other t'ing don't go wit' me.
+Burglary is no good. I'll say good night and many t'anks fer--"
+
+Whistling Dick had moved away a few steps as he spoke, but he
+stopped very suddenly. Boston had covered him with a short revolver
+of roomy calibre.
+
+"Take your seat," said the tramp leader. "I'd feel mighty proud of
+myself if I let you go and spoil the game. You'll stick right in
+this camp until we finish the job. The end of that brick pile is
+your limit. You go two inches beyond that, and I'll have to shoot.
+Better take it easy, now."
+
+"It's my way of doin'," said Whistling Dick. "Easy goes. You can
+depress de muzzle of dat twelve-incher, and run 'er back on de
+trucks. I remains, as de newspapers says, 'in yer midst.'"
+
+"All right," said Boston, lowering his piece, as the other returned
+and took his seat again on a projecting plank in a pile of timber.
+"Don't try to leave; that's all. I wouldn't miss this chance even if
+I had to shoot an old acquaintance to make it go. I don't want to
+hurt anybody specially, but this thousand dollars I'm going to get
+will fix me for fair. I'm going to drop the road, and start a saloon
+in a little town I know about. I'm tired of being kicked around."
+
+Boston Harry took from his pocket a cheap silver watch, and held it
+near the fire.
+
+"It's a quarter to nine," he said. "Pete, you and Blinky start. Go
+down the road past the house, and fire the cane in a dozen places.
+Then strike for the levee, and come back on it, instead of the road,
+so you won't meet anybody. By the time you get back the men will
+all be striking out for the fire, and we'll break for the house and
+collar the dollars. Everybody cough up what matches he's got."
+
+The two surly tramps made a collection of all the matches in the
+party, Whistling Dick contributing his quota with propitiatory
+alacrity, and then they departed in the dim starlight in the
+direction of the road.
+
+Of the three remaining vagrants, two, Goggles and Indiana Tom,
+reclined lazily upon convenient lumber and regarded Whistling Dick
+with undisguised disfavour. Boston, observing that the dissenting
+recruit was disposed to remain peaceably, relaxed a little of his
+vigilance. Whistling Dick arose presently and strolled leisurely up
+and down keeping carefully within the territory assigned him.
+
+"Dis planter chap," he said, pausing before Boston Harry, "w'ot
+makes yer t'ink he's got de tin in de house wit' 'im?"
+
+"I'm advised of the facts in the case," said Boston. "He drove to
+Noo Orleans and got it, I say, to-day. Want to change your mind now
+and come in?"
+
+"Naw, I was just askin'. Wot kind o' team did de boss drive?"
+
+"Pair of grays."
+
+"Double surrey?"
+
+"Yep."
+
+"Women folks along?"
+
+"Wife and kid. Say, what morning paper are you trying to pump news
+for?"
+
+"I was just conversin' to pass de time away. I guess dat team passed
+me in de road dis evenin'. Dat's all."
+
+As Whistling Dick put his hands in his pockets and continued his
+curtailed beat up and down by the fire, he felt the silk stocking he
+had picked up in the road.
+
+"Ther bloomin' little skeezicks," he muttered, with a grin.
+
+As he walked up and down he could see, through a sort of natural
+opening or lane among the trees, the planter's residence some
+seventy-five yards distant. The side of the house toward him
+exhibited spacious, well-lighted windows through which a soft
+radiance streamed, illuminating the broad veranda and some extent
+of the lawn beneath.
+
+"What's that you said?" asked Boston, sharply.
+
+"Oh, nuttin' 't all," said Whistling Dick, lounging carelessly, and
+kicking meditatively at a little stone on the ground.
+
+"Just as easy," continued the warbling vagrant softly to himself,
+"an' sociable an' swell an' sassy, wit' her 'Mer-ry Chris-mus,' Wot
+d'yer t'ink, now!"
+
+
+
+Dinner, two hours late, was being served in the Bellemeade
+plantation dining-room.
+
+The dining-room and all its appurtenances spoke of an old regime
+that was here continued rather than suggested to the memory. The
+plate was rich to the extent that its age and quaintness alone saved
+it from being showy; there were interesting names signed in the
+corners of the pictures on the walls; the viands were of the kind
+that bring a shine into the eyes of gourmets. The service was swift,
+silent, lavish, as in the days when the waiters were assets like the
+plate. The names by which the planter's family and their visitors
+addressed one another were historic in the annals of two nations.
+Their manners and conversation had that most difficult kind of
+ease--the kind that still preserves punctilio. The planter himself
+seemed to be the dynamo that generated the larger portion of the
+gaiety and wit. The younger ones at the board found it more than
+difficult to turn back on him his guns of raillery and banter. It is
+true, the young men attempted to storm his works repeatedly, incited
+by the hope of gaining the approbation of their fair companions; but
+even when they sped a well-aimed shaft, the planter forced them to
+feel defeat by the tremendous discomfiting thunder of the laughter
+with which he accompanied his retorts. At the head of the table,
+serene, matronly, benevolent, reigned the mistress of the house,
+placing here and there the right smile, the right word, the
+encouraging glance.
+
+The talk of the party was too desultory, too evanescent to follow,
+but at last they came to the subject of the tramp nuisance, one that
+had of late vexed the plantations for many miles around. The planter
+seized the occasion to direct his good-natured fire of raillery
+at the mistress, accusing her of encouraging the plague. "They
+swarm up and down the river every winter," he said. "They overrun
+New Orleans, and we catch the surplus, which is generally the
+worst part. And, a day or two ago, Madame New Orleans, suddenly
+discovering that she can't go shopping without brushing her skirts
+against great rows of the vagabonds sunning themselves on the
+banquettes, says to the police: 'Catch 'em all,' and the police
+catch a dozen or two, and the remaining three or four thousand
+overflow up and down the levee, and madame there,"--pointing
+tragically with the carving-knife at her--"feeds them. They won't
+work; they defy my overseers, and they make friends with my dogs;
+and you, madame, feed them before my eyes, and intimidate me when
+I would interfere. Tell us, please, how many to-day did you thus
+incite to future laziness and depredation?"
+
+"Six, I think," said madame, with a reflective smile; "but you know
+two of them offered to work, for you heard them yourself."
+
+The planter's disconcerting laugh rang out again.
+
+"Yes, at their own trades. And one was an artificial-flower maker,
+and the other a glass-blower. Oh, they were looking for work! Not a
+hand would they consent to lift to labour of any other kind."
+
+"And another one," continued the soft-hearted mistress, "used quite
+good language. It was really extraordinary for one of his class.
+And he carried a watch. And had lived in Boston. I don't believe
+they are all bad. They have always seemed to me to rather lack
+development. I always look upon them as children with whom wisdom
+has remained at a standstill while whiskers have continued to grow.
+We passed one this evening as we were driving home who had a face
+as good as it was incompetent. He was whistling the intermezzo from
+'Cavalleria' and blowing the spirit of Mascagni himself into it."
+
+A bright eyed young girl who sat at the left of the mistress leaned
+over, and said in a confidential undertone:
+
+"I wonder, mamma, if that tramp we passed on the road found my
+stocking, and do you think he will hang it up to-night? Now I
+can hang up but one. Do you know why I wanted a new pair of silk
+stockings when I have plenty? Well, old Aunt Judy says, if you hang
+up two that have never been worn, Santa Claus will fill one with
+good things, and Monsieur Pambe will place in the other payment
+for all the words you have spoken--good or bad--on the day before
+Christmas. That's why I've been unusually nice and polite to
+everyone to-day. Monsieur Pambe, you know, is a witch gentleman;
+he--"
+
+The words of the young girl were interrupted by a startling thing.
+
+Like the wraith of some burned-out shooting star, a black streak
+came crashing through the window-pane and upon the table, where it
+shivered into fragments a dozen pieces of crystal and china ware,
+and then glanced between the heads of the guests to the wall,
+imprinting therein a deep, round indentation, at which, to-day, the
+visitor to Bellemeade marvels as he gazes upon it and listens to
+this tale as it is told.
+
+The women screamed in many keys, and the men sprang to their feet,
+and would have laid their hands upon their swords had not the
+verities of chronology forbidden.
+
+The planter was the first to act; he sprang to the intruding
+missile, and held it up to view.
+
+"By Jupiter!" he cried. "A meteoric shower of hosiery! Has
+communication at last been established with Mars?"
+
+"I should say--ahem--Venus," ventured a young-gentleman visitor,
+looking hopefully for approbation toward the unresponsive young-lady
+visitors.
+
+The planter held at arm's length the unceremonious visitor--a long
+dangling black stocking. "It's loaded," he announced.
+
+As he spoke, he reversed the stocking, holding it by the toe, and
+down from it dropped a roundish stone, wrapped about by a piece of
+yellowish paper. "Now for the first interstellar message of the
+century!" he cried; and nodding to the company, who had crowded
+about him, he adjusted his glasses with provoking deliberation, and
+examined it closely. When he finished, he had changed from the jolly
+host to the practical, decisive man of business. He immediately
+struck a bell, and said to the silent-footed mulatto man who
+responded: "Go and tell Mr. Wesley to get Reeves and Maurice and
+about ten stout hands they can rely upon, and come to the hall door
+at once. Tell him to have the men arm themselves, and bring plenty
+of ropes and plough lines. Tell him to hurry." And then he read
+aloud from the paper these words:
+
+
+   TO THE GENT OF DE HOUS:
+
+   Dere is five tuff hoboes xcept meself in the vaken lot near
+   de road war de old brick piles is. Dey got me stuck up wid
+   a gun see and I taken dis means of communication. 2 of der
+   lads is gone down to set fire to de cain field below de hous
+   and when yous fellers goes to turn de hoes on it de hole
+   gang is goin to rob de hous of de money yoo gotto pay off
+   wit say git a move on ye say de kid dropt dis sock in der
+   rode tel her mery crismus de same as she told me. Ketch de
+   bums down de rode first and den sen a relefe core to get me
+   out of soke youres truly,
+
+   WHISTLEN DICK.
+
+
+There was some quiet, but rapid, mavoeuvring at Bellemeade during
+the ensuring half hour, which ended in five disgusted and sullen
+tramps being captured, and locked securely in an outhouse pending
+the coming of the morning and retribution. For another result, the
+visiting young gentlemen had secured the unqualified worship of the
+visiting young ladies by their distinguished and heroic conduct.
+For still another, behold Whistling Dick, the hero, seated at the
+planter's table, feasting upon viands his experience had never
+before included, and waited upon by admiring femininity in shapes
+of such beauty and "swellness" that even his ever-full mouth could
+scarcely prevent him from whistling. He was made to disclose in
+detail his adventure with the evil gang of Boston Harry, and how he
+cunningly wrote the note and wrapped it around the stone and placed
+it at the toe of the stocking, and, watching his chance, sent it
+silently, with a wonderful centrifugal momentum, like a comet, at
+one of the big lighted windows of the dining-room.
+
+The planter vowed that the wanderer should wander no more; that his
+was a goodness and an honesty that should be rewarded, and that
+a debt of gratitude had been made that must be paid; for had he
+not saved them from a doubtless imminent loss, and maybe a greater
+calamity? He assured Whistling Dick that he might consider himself a
+charge upon the honour of Bellemeade; that a position suited to his
+powers would be found for him at once, and hinted that the way would
+be heartily smoothed for him to rise to as high places of emolument
+and trust as the plantation afforded.
+
+But now, they said, he must be weary, and the immediate thing to
+consider was rest and sleep. So the mistress spoke to a servant,
+and Whistling Dick was conducted to a room in the wing of the house
+occupied by the servants. To this room, in a few minutes, was
+brought a portable tin bathtub filled with water, which was placed
+on a piece of oiled cloth upon the floor. There the vagrant was left
+to pass the night.
+
+By the light of a candle he examined the room. A bed, with the
+covers neatly turned back, revealed snowy pillows and sheets. A
+worn, but clean, red carpet covered the floor. There was a dresser
+with a beveled mirror, a washstand with a flowered bowl and pitcher;
+the two or three chairs were softly upholstered. A little table held
+books, papers, and a day-old cluster of roses in a jar. There were
+towels on a rack and soap in a white dish.
+
+Whistling Dick set his candle on a chair and placed his hat
+carefully under the table. After satisfying what we must suppose to
+have been his curiosity by a sober scrutiny, he removed his coat,
+folded it, and laid it upon the floor, near the wall, as far as
+possible from the unused bathtub. Taking his coat for a pillow, he
+stretched himself luxuriously upon the carpet.
+
+When, on Christmas morning, the first streaks of dawn broke above
+the marshes, Whistling Dick awoke, and reached instinctively for his
+hat. Then he remembered that the skirts of Fortune had swept him
+into their folds on the night previous, and he went to the window
+and raised it, to let the fresh breath of the morning cool his brow
+and fix the yet dream-like memory of his good luck within his brain.
+
+As he stood there, certain dread and ominous sounds pierced the
+fearful hollow of his ear.
+
+The force of plantation workers, eager to complete the shortened
+task allotted to them, were all astir. The mighty din of the ogre
+Labour shook the earth, and the poor tattered and forever disguised
+Prince in search of his fortune held tight to the window-sill even
+in the enchanted castle, and trembled.
+
+Already from the bosom of the mill came the thunder of rolling
+barrels of sugar, and (prison-like sounds) there was a great
+rattling of chains as the mules were harried with stimulant
+imprecations to their places by the waggon-tongues. A little vicious
+"dummy" engine, with a train of flat cars in tow, stewed and fumed
+on the plantation tap of the narrow-gauge railroad, and a toiling,
+hurrying, hallooing stream of workers were dimly seen in the half
+darkness loading the train with the weekly output of sugar. Here was
+a poem; an epic--nay, a tragedy--with work, the curse of the world,
+for its theme.
+
+The December air was frosty, but the sweat broke out upon Whistling
+Dick's face. He thrust his head out of the window, and looked down.
+Fifteen feet below him, against the wall of the house, he could make
+out that a border of flowers grew, and by that token he overhung a
+bed of soft earth.
+
+Softly as a burglar goes, he clambered out upon the sill, lowered
+himself until he hung by his hands alone, and then dropped safely.
+No one seemed to be about upon this side of the house. He dodged
+low, and skimmed swiftly across the yard to the low fence. It was an
+easy matter to vault this, for a terror urged him such as lifts the
+gazelle over the thorn bush when the lion pursues. A crash through
+the dew-drenched weeds on the roadside, a clutching, slippery rush
+up the grassy side of the levee to the footpath at the summit,
+and--he was free!
+
+The east was blushing and brightening. The wind, himself a vagrant
+rover, saluted his brother upon the cheek. Some wild geese, high
+above, gave cry. A rabbit skipped along the path before him, free
+to turn to the right or to the left as his mood should send him.
+The river slid past, and certainly no one could tell the ultimate
+abiding place of its waters.
+
+A small, ruffled, brown-breasted bird, sitting upon a dog-wood
+sapling, began a soft, throaty, tender little piping in praise of
+the dew which entices foolish worms from their holes; but suddenly
+he stopped, and sat with his head turned sidewise, listening.
+
+From the path along the levee there burst forth a jubilant,
+stirring, buoyant, thrilling whistle, loud and keen and clear as the
+cleanest notes of the piccolo. The soaring sound rippled and trilled
+and arpeggioed as the songs of wild birds do not; but it had a
+wild free grace that, in a way, reminded the small, brown bird of
+something familiar, but exactly what he could not tell. There was
+in it the bird call, or reveille, that all birds know; but a great
+waste of lavish, unmeaning things that art had added and arranged,
+besides, and that were quite puzzling and strange; and the little
+brown bird sat with his head on one side until the sound died away
+in the distance.
+
+The little bird did not know that the part of that strange warbling
+that he understood was just what kept the warbler without his
+breakfast; but he knew very well that the part he did not understand
+did not concern him, so he gave a little flutter of his wings and
+swooped down like a brown bullet upon a big fat worm that was
+wriggling along the levee path.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE HALBERDIER OF THE LITTLE RHEINSCHLOSS
+
+
+I go sometimes into the _Bierhalle_ and restaurant called Old
+Munich. Not long ago it was a resort of interesting Bohemians,
+but now only artists and musicians and literary folk frequent it.
+But the Pilsner is yet good, and I take some diversion from the
+conversation of Waiter No. 18.
+
+For many years the customers of Old Munich have accepted the place
+as a faithful copy from the ancient German town. The big hall with
+its smoky rafters, rows of imported steins, portrait of Goethe,
+and verses painted on the walls--translated into German from the
+original of the Cincinnati poets--seems atmospherically correct when
+viewed through the bottom of a glass.
+
+But not long ago the proprietors added the room above, called it
+the Little Rheinschloss, and built in a stairway. Up there was an
+imitation stone parapet, ivy-covered, and the walls were painted to
+represent depth and distance, with the Rhine winding at the base of
+the vineyarded slopes, and the castle of Ehrenbreitstein looming
+directly opposite the entrance. Of course there were tables and
+chairs; and you could have beer and food brought you, as you
+naturally would on the top of a castle on the Rhine.
+
+I went into Old Munich one afternoon when there were few customers,
+and sat at my usual table near the stairway. I was shocked and
+almost displeased to perceive that the glass cigar-case by the
+orchestra stand had been smashed to smithereens. I did not like
+things to happen in Old Munich. Nothing had ever happened there
+before.
+
+Waiter No. 18 came and breathed on my neck. I was his by right of
+discovery. Eighteen's brain was built like a corral. It was full of
+ideas which, when he opened the gate, came huddling out like a flock
+of sheep that might get together afterward or might not. I did not
+shine as a shepherd. As a type Eighteen fitted nowhere. I did not
+find out if he had a nationality, family, creed, grievance, hobby,
+soul, preference, home, or vote. He only came always to my table
+and, as long as his leisure would permit, let words flutter from him
+like swallows leaving a barn at daylight.
+
+"How did the cigar-case come to be broken, Eighteen?" I asked, with
+a certain feeling of personal grievance.
+
+"I can tell you about that, sir," said he, resting his foot on the
+chair next to mine. "Did you ever have anybody hand you a double
+handful of good luck while both your hands was full of bad luck, and
+stop to notice how your fingers behaved?"
+
+"No riddles, Eighteen," said I. "Leave out palmistry and
+manicuring."
+
+"You remember," said Eighteen, "the guy in the hammered brass Prince
+Albert and the oroide gold pants and the amalgamated copper hat,
+that carried the combination meat-axe, ice-pick, and liberty-pole,
+and used to stand on the first landing as you go up to the Little
+Rindslosh."
+
+"Why, yes," said I. "The halberdier. I never noticed him
+particularly. I remember he thought he was only a suit of armour. He
+had a perfect poise."
+
+"He had more than that," said Eighteen. "He was me friend. He was an
+advertisement. The boss hired him to stand on the stairs for a kind
+of scenery to show there was something doing in the has-been line
+upstairs. What did you call him--a what kind of a beer?"
+
+"A halberdier," said I. "That was an ancient man-at-arms of many
+hundred years ago."
+
+"Some mistake," said Eighteen. "This one wasn't that old. He wasn't
+over twenty-three or four.
+
+"It was the boss's idea, rigging a man up in an ante-bellum suit
+of tinware and standing him on the landing of the slosh. He bought
+the goods at a Fourth Avenue antique store, and hung a sign-out:
+'Able-bodied hal--halberdier wanted. Costume furnished.'
+
+"The same morning a young man with wrecked good clothes and a hungry
+look comes in, bringing the sign with him. I was filling the
+mustard-pots at my station.
+
+"'I'm it,' says he, 'whatever it is. But I never halberdiered in a
+restaurant. Put me on. Is it a masquerade?'
+
+"'I hear talk in the kitchen of a fishball,' says I.
+
+"'Bully for you, Eighteen,' says he. 'You and I'll get on. Show me
+the boss's desk.'
+
+"Well, the boss tries the Harveyized pajamas on him, and they fitted
+him like the scales on a baked redsnapper, and he gets the job.
+You've seen what it is--he stood straight up in the corner of the
+first landing with his halberd to his shoulder, looking right ahead
+and guarding the Portugals of the castle. The boss is nutty about
+having the true Old-World flavour to his joint. 'Halberdiers goes
+with Rindsloshes,' says he, 'just as rats goes with rathskellers and
+white cotton stockings with Tyrolean villages.' The boss is a kind
+of a antiologist, and is all posted up on data and such information.
+
+"From 8 P.M. to two in the morning was the halberdier's hours. He
+got two meals with us help and a dollar a night. I eat with him at
+the table. He liked me. He never told his name. He was travelling
+impromptu, like kings, I guess. The first time at supper I says to
+him: 'Have some more of the spuds, Mr. Frelinghuysen.' 'Oh, don't be
+so formal and offish, Eighteen,' says he. 'Call me Hal--that's short
+for halberdier.' 'Oh, don't think I wanted to pry for names,' says
+I. 'I know all about the dizzy fall from wealth and greatness. We've
+got a count washing dishes in the kitchen; and the third bartender
+used to be a Pullman conductor. And they _work_, Sir Percival,' says
+I, sarcastic.
+
+"'Eighteen,' says he, 'as a friendly devil in a cabbage-scented
+hell, would you mind cutting up this piece of steak for me? I don't
+say that it's got more muscle than I have, but--' And then he shows
+me the insides of his hands. They was blistered and cut and corned
+and swelled up till they looked like a couple of flank steaks
+criss-crossed with a knife--the kind the butchers hide and take
+home, knowing what is the best.
+
+"'Shoveling coal,' says he, 'and piling bricks and loading drays.
+But they gave out, and I had to resign. I was born for a halberdier,
+and I've been educated for twenty-four years to fill the position.
+Now, quit knocking my profession, and pass along a lot more of
+that ham. I'm holding the closing exercises,' says he, 'of a
+forty-eight-hour fast.'
+
+"The second night he was on the job he walks down from his corner to
+the cigar-case and calls for cigarettes. The customers at the tables
+all snicker out loud to show their acquaintance with history. The
+boss is on.
+
+"'An'--let's see--oh, yes--'An anachronism,' says the boss.
+'Cigarettes was not made at the time when halberdiers was invented.'
+
+"'The ones you sell was,' says Sir Percival. 'Caporal wins from
+chronology by the length of a cork tip.' So he gets 'em and lights
+one, and puts the box in his brass helmet, and goes back to
+patrolling the Rindslosh.
+
+"He made a big hit, 'specially with the ladies. Some of 'em would
+poke him with their fingers to see if he was real or only a kind of
+a stuffed figure like they burn in elegy. And when he'd move they'd
+squeak, and make eyes at him as they went up to the slosh. He looked
+fine in his halberdashery. He slept at $2 a week in a hall-room on
+Third Avenue. He invited me up there one night. He had a little book
+on the washstand that he read instead of shopping in the saloons
+after hours. 'I'm on to that,' says I, 'from reading about it in
+novels. All the heroes on the bum carry the little book. It's either
+Tantalus or Liver or Horace, and its printed in Latin, and you're a
+college man. And I wouldn't be surprised,' says I, 'if you wasn't
+educated, too.' But it was only the batting averages of the League
+for the last ten years.
+
+"One night, about half past eleven, there comes in a party of these
+high-rollers that are always hunting up new places to eat in and
+poke fun at. There was a swell girl in a 40 H.-P. auto tan coat and
+veil, and a fat old man with white side-whiskers, and a young chap
+that couldn't keep his feet off the tail of the girl's coat, and an
+oldish lady that looked upon life as immoral and unnecessary. 'How
+perfectly delightful,' they says, 'to sup in a slosh.' Up the stairs
+they go; and in half a minute back down comes the girl, her skirts
+swishing like the waves on the beach. She stops on the landing and
+looks our halberdier in the eye.
+
+"'You!' she says, with a smile that reminded me of lemon sherbet. I
+was waiting up-stairs in the slosh, then, and I was right down here
+by the door, putting some vinegar and cayenne into an empty bottle
+of tabasco, and I heard all they said.
+
+"'It,' says Sir Percival, without moving. 'I'm only local colour.
+Are my hauberk, helmet, and halberd on straight?'
+
+"'Is there an explanation to this?' says she. 'Is it a practical
+joke such as men play in those Griddle-cake and Lamb Clubs? I'm
+afraid I don't see the point. I heard, vaguely, that you were away.
+For three months I--we have not seen you or heard from you.'
+
+"'I'm halberdiering for my living,' says the stature. 'I'm working,'
+says he. 'I don't suppose you know what work means.'
+
+"'Have you--have you lost your money?' she asks.
+
+"Sir Percival studies a minute.
+
+"'I am poorer,' says he, 'than the poorest sandwich man on the
+streets--if I don't earn my living.'
+
+"'You call this work?' says she. 'I thought a man worked with his
+hands or his head instead of becoming a mountebank.'
+
+"'The calling of a halberdier,' says he, 'is an ancient and
+honourable one. Sometimes,' says he, 'the man-at-arms at the door
+has saved the castle while the plumed knights were cake-walking in
+the banquet-halls above.'
+
+"'I see you're not ashamed,' says she, 'of your peculiar tastes. I
+wonder, though, that the manhood I used to think I saw in you didn't
+prompt you to draw water or hew wood instead of publicly flaunting
+your ignominy in this disgraceful masquerade.'
+
+"Sir Percival kind of rattles his armour and says: 'Helen, will you
+suspend sentence in this matter for just a little while? You don't
+understand,' says he. 'I've got to hold this job down a little
+longer.'
+
+"'You like being a harlequin--or halberdier, as you call it?' says
+she.
+
+"'I wouldn't get thrown out of the job just now,' says he, with a
+grin, 'to be appointed Minister to the Court of St. James's.'
+
+"And then the 40-H.P. girl's eyes sparkled as hard as diamonds.
+
+"'Very well,' says she. 'You shall have full run of your
+serving-man's tastes this night.' And she swims over to the boss's
+desk and gives him a smile that knocks the specks off his nose.
+
+"'I think your Rindslosh,' says she, 'is as beautiful as a dream. It
+is a little slice of the Old World set down in New York. We shall
+have a nice supper up there; but if you will grant us one favour the
+illusion will be perfect--give us your halberdier to wait on our
+table.'
+
+"That hits the boss's antiology hobby just right. 'Sure,' says he,
+'dot vill be fine. Und der orchestra shall blay "Die Wacht am Rhein"
+all der time.' And he goes over and tells the halberdier to go
+upstairs and hustle the grub at the swells' table.
+
+"'I'm on the job,' says Sir Percival, taking off his helmet and
+hanging it on his halberd and leaning 'em in the corner. The girl
+goes up and takes her seat and I see her jaw squared tight under her
+smile. 'We're going to be waited on by a real halberdier,' says she,
+'one who is proud of his profession. Isn't it sweet?'
+
+"'Ripping,' says the swell young man. 'Much prefer a waiter,' says
+the fat old gent. 'I hope he doesn't come from a cheap museum,' says
+the old lady; 'he might have microbes in his costume.'
+
+"Before he goes to the table, Sir Percival takes me by the arm.
+'Eighteen,' he says, 'I've got to pull off this job without a
+blunder. You coach me straight or I'll take that halberd and make
+hash out of you.' And then he goes up to the table with his coat of
+mail on and a napkin over his arm and waits for the order.
+
+"'Why, it's Deering!' says the young swell. 'Hello, old man. What
+the--'
+
+"'Beg pardon, sir,' interrupts the halberdier, 'I'm waiting on the
+table.'
+
+"The old man looks at him grim, like a Boston bull. 'So, Deering,'
+he says, 'you're at work yet.'
+
+"'Yes, sir,' says Sir Percival, quiet and gentlemanly as I could
+have been myself, 'for almost three months, now.' 'You haven't been
+discharged during the time?' asks the old man. 'Not once, sir,' says
+he, 'though I've had to change my work several times.'
+
+"'Waiter,' orders the girl, short and sharp, 'another napkin.' He
+brings her one, respectful.
+
+"I never saw more devil, if I may say it, stirred up in a lady.
+There was two bright red spots on her cheeks, and her eyes looked
+exactly like a wildcat's I'd seen in the zoo. Her foot kept slapping
+the floor all the time.
+
+"'Waiter,' she orders, 'bring me filtered water without ice. Bring
+me a footstool. Take away this empty salt-cellar.' She kept him on
+the jump. She was sure giving the halberdier his.
+
+"There wasn't but a few customers up in the slosh at that time, so
+I hung out near the door so I could help Sir Percival serve.
+
+"He got along fine with the olives and celery and the bluepoints.
+They was easy. And then the consomme came up the dumb-waiter all in
+one big silver tureen. Instead of serving it from the side-table he
+picks it up between his hands and starts to the dining-table with
+it. When nearly there he drops the tureen smash on the floor, and
+the soup soaks all the lower part of that girl's swell silk dress.
+
+"'Stupid--incompetent,' says she, giving him a look. 'Standing in a
+corner with a halberd seems to be your mission in life.'
+
+"'Pardon me, lady,' says he. 'It was just a little bit hotter than
+blazes. I couldn't help it.'
+
+"The old man pulls out a memorandum book and hunts in it. 'The 25th
+of April, Deering,' says he. 'I know it,' says Sir Percival. 'And
+ten minutes to twelve o'clock,' says the old man. 'By Jupiter! you
+haven't won yet.' And he pounds the table with his fist and yells
+to me: 'Waiter, call the manager at once--tell him to hurry here as
+fast as he can.' I go after the boss, and old Brockmann hikes up to
+the slosh on the jump.
+
+"'I want this man discharged at once,' roars the old guy. 'Look
+what he's done. Ruined my daughter's dress. It cost at least $600.
+Discharge this awkward lout at once or I'll sue you for the price of
+it.'
+
+"'Dis is bad pizness,' says the boss. 'Six hundred dollars is much.
+I reckon I vill haf to--'
+
+"'Wait a minute, Herr Brockmann,' says Sir Percival, easy and
+smiling. But he was worked up under his tin suitings; I could see
+that. And then he made the finest, neatest little speech I ever
+listened to. I can't give you the words, of course. He give the
+millionaires a lovely roast in a sarcastic way, describing their
+automobiles and opera-boxes and diamonds; and then he got around
+to the working-classes and the kind of grub they eat and the long
+hours they work--and all that sort of stuff--bunkum, of course. 'The
+restless rich,' says he, 'never content with their luxuries, always
+prowling among the haunts of the poor and humble, amusing themselves
+with the imperfections and misfortunes of their fellow men and
+women. And even here, Herr Brockmann,' he says, 'in this beautiful
+Rindslosh, a grand and enlightening reproduction of Old World
+history and architecture, they come to disturb its symmetry and
+picturesqueness by demanding in their arrogance that the halberdier
+of the castle wait upon their table! I have faithfuly and
+conscientiously,' says he, 'performed my duties as a halberdier. I
+know nothing of a waiter's duties. It was the insolent whim of these
+transient, pampered aristocrats that I should be detailed to serve
+them food. Must I be blamed--must I be deprived of the means of a
+livelihood,' he goes on, 'on account of an accident that was the
+result of their own presumption and haughtiness? But what hurts me
+more than all,' says Sir Percival, 'is the desecration that has been
+done to this splendid Rindslosh--the confiscation of its halberdier
+to serve menially at the banquet board.'
+
+"Even I could see that this stuff was piffle; but it caught the
+boss.
+
+"'Mein Gott,' says he, 'you vas right. Ein halberdier have not got
+der right to dish up soup. Him I vill not discharge. Have anoder
+waiter if you like, und let mein halberdier go back und stand mit
+his halberd. But, gentlemen,' he says, pointing to the old man, 'you
+go ahead and sue mit der dress. Sue me for $600 or $6,000. I stand
+der suit.' And the boss puffs off down-stairs. Old Brockmann was an
+all-right Dutchman.
+
+"Just then the clock strikes twelve, and the old guy laughs loud.
+'You win, Deering,' says he. 'And let me explain to all,' he goes
+on. 'Some time ago Mr. Deering asked me for something that I did
+not want to give him.' (I looks at the girl, and she turns as red
+as a pickled beet.) 'I told him,' says the old guy, 'if he would
+earn his own living for three months without being discharged for
+incompetence, I would give him what he wanted. It seems that the
+time was up at twelve o'clock to-night. I came near fetching you,
+though, Deering, on that soup question,' says the old boy, standing
+up and grabbing Sir Percival's hand.
+
+"The halberdier lets out a yell and jumps three feet high.
+
+"'Look out for those hands,' says he, and he holds 'em up. You never
+saw such hands except on a labourer in a limestone quarry.
+
+"'Heavens, boy!' says old side-whiskers, 'what have you been doing
+to 'em?'
+
+"'Oh,' says Sir Percival, 'little chores like hauling coal and
+excavating rock till they went back on me. And when I couldn't hold
+a pick or a whip I took up halberdiering to give 'em a rest. Tureens
+full of hot soup don't seem to be a particularly soothing
+treatment.'
+
+"I would have bet on that girl. That high-tempered kind always go
+as far the other way, according to my experience. She whizzes round
+the table like a cyclone and catches both his hands in hers. 'Poor
+hands--dear hands,' she sings out, and sheds tears on 'em and holds
+'em close to her bosom. Well, sir, with all that Rindslosh scenery
+it was just like a play. And the halberdier sits down at the table
+at the girl's side, and I served the rest of the supper. And that
+was about all, except that when they left he shed his hardware store
+and went with 'em."
+
+I dislike to be side-tracked from an original proposition.
+
+"But you haven't told me, Eighteen," said I, "how the cigar-case
+came to be broken."
+
+"Oh, that was last night," said Eighteen. "Sir Percival and the
+girl drove up in a cream-coloured motor-car, and had dinner in the
+Rindslosh. 'The same table, Billy,' I heard her say as they went up.
+I waited on 'em. We've got a new halberdier now, a bow-legged guy
+with a face like a sheep. As they came down-stairs Sir Percival
+passes him a ten-case note. The new halberdier drops his halberd,
+and it falls on the cigar-case. That's how that happened."
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+TWO RENEGADES
+
+
+In the Gate City of the South the Confederate Veterans were
+reuniting; and I stood to see them march, beneath the tangled
+flags of the great conflict, to the hall of their oratory and
+commemoration.
+
+While the irregular and halting line was passing I made onslaught
+upon it and dragged from the ranks my friend Barnard O'Keefe, who
+had no right to be there. For he was a Northerner born and bred; and
+what should he be doing hallooing for the Stars and Bars among those
+gray and moribund veterans? And why should he be trudging, with his
+shining, martial, humorous, broad face, among those warriors of a
+previous and alien generation?
+
+I say I dragged him forth, and held him till the last hickory leg
+and waving goatee had stumbled past. And then I hustled him out
+of the crowd into a cool interior; for the Gate City was stirred
+that day, and the hand-organs wisely eliminated "Marching Through
+Georgia" from their repertories.
+
+"Now, what deviltry are you up to?" I asked of O'Keefe when there
+were a table and things in glasses between us.
+
+O'Keefe wiped his heated face and instigated a commotion among the
+floating ice in his glass before he chose to answer.
+
+"I am assisting at the wake," said he, "of the only nation on earth
+that ever did me a good turn. As one gentleman to another, I am
+ratifying and celebrating the foreign policy of the late Jefferson
+Davis, as fine a statesman as ever settled the financial question of
+a country. Equal ratio--that was his platform--a barrel of money for
+a barrel of flour--a pair of $20 bills for a pair of boots--a hatful
+of currency for a new hat--say, ain't that simple compared with W.
+J. B.'s little old oxidized plank?"
+
+"What talk is this?" I asked. "Your financial digression is merely
+a subterfuge. Why were you marching in the ranks of the Confederate
+Veterans?"
+
+"Because, my lad," answered O'Keefe, "the Confederate Government in
+its might and power interposed to protect and defend Barnard O'Keefe
+against immediate and dangerous assassination at the hands of a
+blood-thirsty foreign country after the Unites States of America
+had overruled his appeal for protection, and had instructed Private
+Secretary Cortelyou to reduce his estimate of the Republican
+majority for 1905 by one vote."
+
+"Come, Barney," said I, "the Confederate States of America has been
+out of existence nearly forty years. You do not look older yourself.
+When was it that the deceased government exerted its foreign policy
+in your behalf?"
+
+"Four months ago," said O'Keefe, promptly. "The infamous foreign
+power I alluded to is still staggering from the official blow dealt
+it by Mr. Davis's contraband aggregation of states. That's why you
+see me cake-walking with the ex-rebs to the illegitimate tune about
+'simmon-seeds and cotton. I vote for the Great Father in Washington,
+but I am not going back on Mars' Jeff. You say the Confederacy has
+been dead forty years? Well, if it hadn't been for it, I'd have
+been breathing to-day with soul so dead I couldn't have whispered
+a single cuss-word about my native land. The O'Keefes are not
+overburdened with ingratitude."
+
+I must have looked bewildered. "The war was over," I said vacantly,
+"in--"
+
+O'Keefe laughed loudly, scattering my thoughts.
+
+"Ask old Doc Millikin if the war is over!" he shouted, hugely
+diverted. "Oh, no! Doc hasn't surrendered yet. And the Confederate
+States! Well, I just told you they bucked officially and solidly and
+nationally against a foreign government four months ago and kept me
+from being shot. Old Jeff's country stepped in and brought me off
+under its wing while Roosevelt was having a gunboat painted and
+waiting for the National Campaign Committee to look up whether I had
+ever scratched the ticket."
+
+"Isn't there a story in this, Barney?" I asked.
+
+"No," said O'Keefe; "but I'll give you the facts. You know I went
+down to Panama when this irritation about a canal began. I thought
+I'd get in on the ground floor. I did, and had to sleep on it, and
+drink water with little zoos in it; so, of course, I got the Chagres
+fever. That was in a little town called San Juan on the coast.
+
+"After I got the fever hard enough to kill a Port-au-Prince nigger,
+I had a relapse in the shape of Doc Millikin.
+
+"There was a doctor to attend a sick man! If Doc Millikin had your
+case, he made the terrors of death seem like an invitation to a
+donkey-party. He had the bedside manners of a Piute medicine-man and
+the soothing presence of a dray loaded with iron bridge-girders.
+When he laid his hand on your fevered brow you felt like Cap John
+Smith just before Pocahontas went his bail.
+
+"Well, this old medical outrage floated down to my shack when I sent
+for him. He was build like a shad, and his eyebrows was black, and
+his white whiskers trickled down from his chin like milk coming
+out of a sprinkling-pot. He had a nigger boy along carrying an old
+tomato-can full of calomel, and a saw.
+
+"Doc felt my pulse, and then he began to mess up some calomel with
+an agricultural implement that belonged to the trowel class.
+
+"'I don't want any death-mask made yet, Doc,' I says, 'nor my liver
+put in a plaster-of-Paris cast. I'm sick; and it's medicine I need,
+not frescoing.'
+
+"'You're a blame Yankee, ain't you?' asked Doc, going on mixing up
+his Portland cement.
+
+"'I'm from the North,' says I, 'but I'm a plain man, and don't care
+for mural decorations. When you get the Isthmus all asphalted over
+with that boll-weevil prescription, would you mind giving me a dose
+of pain-killer, or a little strychnine on toast to ease up this
+feeling of unhealthiness that I have got?"
+
+"'They was all sassy, just like you,' says old Doc, 'but we lowered
+their temperature considerable. Yes, sir, I reckon we sent a good
+many of ye over to old _mortuis nisi bonum_. Look at Antietam and
+Bull Run and Seven Pines and around Nashville! There never was a
+battle where we didn't lick ye unless you was ten to our one. I knew
+you were a blame Yankee the minute I laid eyes on you.'
+
+"'Don't reopen the chasm, Doc,' I begs him. 'Any Yankeeness I may
+have is geographical; and, as far as I am concerned, a Southerner is
+as good as a Filipino any day. I'm feeling to bad too argue. Let's
+have secession without misrepresentation, if you say so; but what I
+need is more laudanum and less Lundy's Lane. If you're mixing that
+compound gefloxide of gefloxicum for me, please fill my ears with it
+before you get around to the battle of Gettysburg, for there is a
+subject full of talk.'
+
+"By this time Doc Millikin had thrown up a line of fortifications on
+square pieces of paper; and he says to me: 'Yank, take one of these
+powders every two hours. They won't kill you. I'll be around again
+about sundown to see if you're alive.'
+
+"Old Doc's powders knocked the chagres. I stayed in San Juan,
+and got to knowing him better. He was from Mississippi, and the
+red-hottest Southerner that ever smelled mint. He made Stonewall
+Jackson and R. E. Lee look like Abolitionists. He had a family
+somewhere down near Yazoo City; but he stayed away from the States
+on account of an uncontrollable liking he had for the absence of
+a Yankee government. Him and me got as thick personally as the
+Emperor of Russia and the dove of peace, but sectionally we didn't
+amalgamate.
+
+"'Twas a beautiful system of medical practice introduced by old Doc
+into that isthmus of land. He'd take that bracket-saw and the mild
+chloride and his hypodermic, and treat anything from yellow fever to
+a personal friend.
+
+"Besides his other liabilities Doc could play a flute for a minute
+or two. He was guilty of two tunes--'Dixie' and another one that
+was mighty close to the 'Suwanee River'--you might say one of its
+tributaries. He used to come down and sit with me while I was
+getting well, and aggrieve his flute and say unreconstructed things
+about the North. You'd have thought that the smoke from the first
+gun at Fort Sumter was still floating around in the air.
+
+"You know that was about the time they staged them property
+revolutions down there, that wound up in the fifth act with the
+thrilling canal scene where Uncle Sam has nine curtain-calls holding
+Miss Panama by the hand, while the bloodhounds keep Senator Morgan
+treed up in a cocoanut-palm.
+
+"That's the way it wound up; but at first it seemed as if Colombia
+was going to make Panama look like one of the $3.98 kind, with dents
+made in it in the factory, like they wear at North Beach fish fries.
+For mine, I played the straw-hat crowd to win; and they gave me a
+colonel's commission over a brigade of twenty-seven men in the left
+wing and second joint of the insurgent army.
+
+"The Colombian troops were awfully rude to us. One day when I had my
+brigade in a sandy spot, with its shoes off doing a battalion drill
+by squads, the Government army rushed from behind a bush at us,
+acting as noisy and disagreeable as they could.
+
+"My troops enfiladed, left-faced, and left the spot. After enticing
+the enemy for three miles or so we struck a brier-patch and had to
+sit down. When we were ordered to throw up our toes and surrender
+we obeyed. Five of my best staff-officers fell, suffering extremely
+with stone-bruised heels.
+
+"Then and there those Colombians took your friend Barney, sir,
+stripped him of the insignia of his rank, consisting of a pair
+of brass knuckles and a canteen of rum, and dragged him before a
+military court. The presiding general went through the usual legal
+formalities that sometimes cause a case to hang on the calendar of a
+South American military court as long as ten minutes. He asked me my
+age, and then sentenced me to be shot.
+
+"They woke up the court interpreter, an American named Jenks, who
+was in the rum business and vice versa, and told him to translate
+the verdict.
+
+"Jenks stretched himself and took a morphine tablet.
+
+"'You've got to back up against th' 'dobe, old man,' says he to me.
+'Three weeks, I believe, you get. Haven't got a chew of fine-cut on
+you, have you?'
+
+"'Translate that again, with foot-notes and a glossary,' says I. 'I
+don't know whether I'm discharged, condemned, or handed over to the
+Gerry Society.'
+
+"'Oh,' says Jenks, 'don't you understand? You're to be stood up
+against a 'dobe wall and shot in two or three weeks--three, I think,
+they said.'
+
+"'Would you mind asking 'em which?' says I. 'A week don't amount to
+much after you're dead, but it seems a real nice long spell while
+you are alive.'
+
+"'It's two weeks,' says the interpreter, after inquiring in Spanish
+of the court. 'Shall I ask 'em again?'
+
+"'Let be,' says I. 'Let's have a stationary verdict. If I keep on
+appealing this way they'll have me shot about ten days before I was
+captured. No, I haven't got any fine-cut.'
+
+"They sends me over to the _calaboza_ with a detachment of coloured
+postal-telegraph boys carrying Enfield rifles, and I am locked up in
+a kind of brick bakery. The temperature in there was just about the
+kind mentioned in the cooking recipes that call for a quick oven.
+
+"Then I gives a silver dollar to one of the guards to send for the
+United States consul. He comes around in pajamas, with a pair of
+glasses on his nose and a dozen or two inside of him.
+
+"'I'm to be shot in two weeks,' says I. 'And although I've made a
+memorandum of it, I don't seem to get it off my mind. You want to
+call up Uncle Sam on the cable as quick as you can and get him all
+worked up about it. Have 'em send the _Kentucky_ and the _Kearsarge_
+and the _Oregon_ down right away. That'll be about enough
+battleships; but it wouldn't hurt to have a couple of cruisers and a
+torpedo-boat destroyer, too. And--say, if Dewey isn't busy, better
+have him come along on the fastest one of the fleet.'
+
+"'Now, see here, O'Keefe,' says the consul, getting the best of a
+hiccup, 'what do you want to bother the State Department about this
+matter for?'
+
+"'Didn't you hear me?' says I; 'I'm to be shot in two weeks. Did you
+think I said I was going to a lawn-party? And it wouldn't hurt of
+Roosevelt could get the Japs to send down the _Yellowyamtiskookum_
+or the _Ogotosingsing_ or some other first-class cruisers to help.
+It would make me feel safer.'
+
+"'Now, what you want,' says the consul, 'is not to get excited. I'll
+send you over some chewing tobacco and some banana fritters when I
+go back. The United States can't interfere in this. You know you
+were caught insurging against the government, and you're subject to
+the laws of this country. To tell the truth, I've had an intimation
+from the State Department--unofficially, of course--that whenever
+a soldier of fortune demands a fleet of gunboats in a case of
+revolutionary _katzenjammer_, I should cut the cable, give him all
+the tobacco he wants, and after he's shot take his clothes, if they
+fit me, for part payment of my salary.'
+
+"'Consul,' says I to him, 'this is a serious question. You are
+representing Uncle Sam. This ain't any little international
+tomfoolery, like a universal peace congress or the christening of
+the _Shamrock IV_. I'm an American citizen and I demand protection.
+I demand the Mosquito fleet, and Schley, and the Atlantic squadron,
+and Bob Evans, and General E. Byrd Grubb, and two or three
+protocols. What are you going to do about it?'
+
+"'Nothing doing,' says the consul.
+
+"'Be off with you, then,' says I, out of patience with him, 'and
+send me Doc Millikin. Ask Doc to come and see me.'
+
+"Doc comes and looks through the bars at me, surrounded by dirty
+soldiers, with even my shoes and canteen confiscated, and he looks
+mightily pleased.
+
+"'Hello, Yank,' says he, 'getting a little taste of Johnson's
+Island, now, ain't ye?'
+
+"'Doc,' says I, 'I've just had an interview with the U.S. consul. I
+gather from his remarks that I might just as well have been caught
+selling suspenders in Kishineff under the name of Rosenstein as to
+be in my present condition. It seems that the only maritime aid I am
+to receive from the United States is some navy-plug to chew. Doc,'
+says I, 'can't you suspend hostility on the slavery question long
+enough to do something for me?'
+
+"'It ain't been my habit,' Doc Millikin answers, 'to do any painless
+dentistry when I find a Yank cutting an eye-tooth. So the Stars and
+Stripes ain't lending any marines to shell the huts of the Colombian
+cannibals, hey? Oh, say, can you see by the dawn's early light the
+star-spangled banner has fluked in the fight? What's the matter with
+the War Department, hey? It's a great thing to be a citizen of a
+gold-standard nation, ain't it?'
+
+"'Rub it in, Doc, all you want,' says I. 'I guess we're weak on
+foreign policy.'
+
+"'For a Yank,' says Doc, putting on his specs and talking more mild,
+'you ain't so bad. If you had come from below the line I reckon I
+would have liked you right smart. Now since your country has gone
+back on you, you have to come to the old doctor whose cotton you
+burned and whose mules who stole and whose niggers you freed to help
+you. Ain't that so, Yank?'
+
+"'It is,' says I heartily, 'and let's have a diagnosis of the case
+right away, for in two weeks' time all you can do is to hold an
+autopsy and I don't want to be amputated if I can help it.'
+
+"'Now,' says Doc, business-like, 'it's easy enough for you to get
+out of this scrape. Money'll do it. You've got to pay a long string
+of 'em from General Pomposo down to this anthropoid ape guarding
+your door. About $10,000 will do the trick. Have you got the money?'
+
+"'Me?' says I. 'I've got one Chili dollar, two _real_ pieces, and a
+_medio_.'
+
+"'Then if you've any last words, utter 'em,' says that old reb. 'The
+roster of your financial budget sounds quite much to me like the
+noise of a requiem.'
+
+"'Change the treatment,' says I. 'I admit that I'm short. Call a
+consultation or use radium or smuggle me in some saws or something.'
+
+"'Yank,' says Doc Millikin, 'I've a good notion to help you. There's
+only one government in the world that can get you out of this
+difficulty; and that's the Confederate States of America, the
+grandest nation that ever existed.'
+
+"Just as you said to me I says to Doc; 'Why, the Confederacy ain't a
+nation. It's been absolved forty years ago.'
+
+"'That's a campaign lie,' says Doc. 'She's running along as solid as
+the Roman Empire. She's the only hope you've got. Now, you, being a
+Yank, have got to go through with some preliminary obsequies before
+you can get official aid. You've got to take the oath of allegiance
+to the Confederate Government. Then I'll guarantee she does all she
+can for you. What do you say, Yank?--it's your last chance.'
+
+"'If you're fooling with me, Doc,' I answers, 'you're no better
+than the United States. But as you say it's the last chance, hurry
+up and swear me. I always did like corn whisky and 'possum anyhow.
+I believe I'm half Southerner by nature. I'm willing to try the
+Klu-klux in place of the khaki. Get brisk.'
+
+"Doc Millikin thinks awhile, and then he offers me this oath of
+allegiance to take without any kind of a chaser:
+
+"'I, Barnard O'Keefe, Yank, being of sound body but a Republican
+mind, hereby swear to transfer my fealty, respect, and allegiance
+to the Confederate States of America, and the government thereof
+in consideration of said government, through its official acts
+and powers, obtaining my freedom and release from confinement and
+sentence of death brought about by the exuberance of my Irish
+proclivities and my general pizenness as a Yank.'
+
+"I repeated these words after Doc, but they seemed to me a kind of
+hocus-pocus; and I don't believe any life-insurance company in the
+world would have issued me a policy on the strength of 'em.
+
+"Doc went away saying he would communicate with his government
+immediately.
+
+"Say--you can imagine how I felt--me to be shot in two weeks and my
+only hope for help being in a government that's been dead so long
+that it isn't even remembered except on Decoration Day and when Joe
+Wheeler signs the voucher for his pay-check. But it was all there
+was in sight; and somehow I thought Doc Millikin had something up
+his old alpaca sleeve that wasn't all foolishness.
+
+"Around to the jail comes old Doc again in about a week. I was
+flea-bitten, a mite sarcastic, and fundamentally hungry.
+
+"'Any Confederate ironclads in the offing?' I asks. 'Do you notice
+any sounds resembling the approach of Jeb Stewart's cavalry overland
+or Stonewall Jackson sneaking up in the rear? If you do, I wish
+you'd say so.'
+
+"'It's too soon yet for help to come,' says Doc.
+
+"'The sooner the better,' says I. 'I don't care if it gets in fully
+fifteen minutes before I am shot; and if you happen to lay eyes on
+Beauregard or Albert Sidney Johnston or any of the relief corps,
+wig-wag 'em to hike along.'
+
+"'There's been no answer received yet,' says Doc.
+
+"'Don't forget,' says I, 'that there's only four days more. I don't
+know how you propose to work this thing, Doc,' I says to him; 'but
+it seems to me I'd sleep better if you had got a government that
+was alive and on the map--like Afghanistan or Great Britain, or
+old man Kruger's kingdom, to take this matter up. I don't mean any
+disrespect to your Confederate States, but I can't help feeling that
+my chances of being pulled out of this scrape was decidedly weakened
+when General Lee surrendered.'
+
+"'It's your only chance,' said Doc; 'don't quarrel with it. What did
+your own country do for you?'
+
+"It was only two days before the morning I was to be shot, when Doc
+Millikin came around again.
+
+"'All right, Yank,' says he. 'Help's come. The Confederate States of
+America is going to apply for your release. The representatives of
+the government arrived on a fruit-steamer last night.'
+
+"'Bully!' says I--'bully for you, Doc! I suppose it's marines with a
+Gatling. I'm going to love your country all I can for this.'
+
+"'Negotiations,' says old Doc, 'will be opened between the two
+governments at once. You will know later to-day if they are
+successful.'
+
+"About four in the afternoon a soldier in red trousers brings a
+paper round to the jail, and they unlocks the door and I walks out.
+The guard at the door bows and I bows, and I steps into the grass
+and wades around to Doc Millikin's shack.
+
+"Doc was sitting in his hammock playing 'Dixie,' soft and low and
+out of tune, on his flute. I interrupted him at 'Look away! look
+away!' and shook his hand for five minutes.
+
+"'I never thought,' says Doc, taking a chew fretfully, 'that I'd
+ever try to save any blame Yank's life. But, Mr. O'Keefe, I don't
+see but what you are entitled to be considered part human, anyhow.
+I never thought Yanks had any of the rudiments of decorum and
+laudability about them. I reckon I might have been too aggregative
+in my tabulation. But it ain't me you want to thank--it's the
+Confederate States of America.'
+
+"'And I'm much obliged to 'em,' says I. 'It's a poor man that
+wouldn't be patriotic with a country that's saved his life. I'll
+drink to the Stars and Bars whenever there's a flagstaff and a glass
+convenient. But where,' says I, 'are the rescuing troops? If there
+was a gun fired or a shell burst, I didn't hear it.'
+
+"Doc Millikin raises up and points out the window with his flute at
+the banana-steamer loading with fruit.
+
+"'Yank,' says he, 'there's a steamer that's going to sail in the
+morning. If I was you, I'd sail on it. The Confederate Government's
+done all it can for you. There wasn't a gun fired. The negotiations
+were carried on secretly between the two nations by the purser of
+that steamer. I got him to do it because I didn't want to appear in
+it. Twelve thousand dollars was paid to the officials in bribes to
+let you go.'
+
+"'Man!' says I, sitting down hard--'twelve thousand--how will I
+ever--who could have--where did the money come from?'
+
+"'Yazoo City,' says Doc Millikin: 'I've got a little saved up
+there. Two barrels full. It looks good to these Colombians. 'Twas
+Confederate money, every dollar of it. Now do you see why you'd
+better leave before they try to pass some of it on an expert?'
+
+"'I do,' says I.
+
+"'Now let's hear you give the password,' says Doc Millikin.
+
+"'Hurrah for Jeff Davis!' says I.
+
+"'Correct,' says Doc. 'And let me tell you something: The next tune
+I learn on my flute is going to be "Yankee Doodle." I reckon there's
+some Yanks that are not so pizen. Or, if you was me, would you try
+"The Red, White, and Blue"?'"
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+THE LONESOME ROAD
+
+
+Brown as a coffee-berry, rugged, pistoled, spurred, wary,
+indefeasible, I saw my old friend, Deputy-Marshal Buck Caperton,
+stumble, with jingling rowels, into a chair in the marshal's outer
+office.
+
+And because the court-house was almost deserted at that hour, and
+because Buck would sometimes relate to me things that were out of
+print, I followed him in and tricked him into talk through knowledge
+of a weakness he had. For, cigarettes rolled with sweet corn husk
+were as honey to Buck's palate; and though he could finger the
+trigger of a forty-five with skill and suddenness, he never could
+learn to roll a cigarette.
+
+It was through no fault of mine (for I rolled the cigarettes tight
+and smooth), but the upshot of some whim of his own, that instead
+of to an Odyssey of the chaparral, I listened to--a dissertation
+upon matrimony! This from Buck Caperton! But I maintain that the
+cigarettes were impeccable, and crave absolution for myself.
+
+"We just brought in Jim and Bud Granberry," said Buck. "Train
+robbing, you know. Held up the Aransas Pass last month. We caught
+'em in the Twenty-Mile pear flat, south of the Nueces."
+
+"Have much trouble corralling them?" I asked, for here was the meat
+that my hunger for epics craved.
+
+"Some," said Buck; and then, during a little pause, his thoughts
+stampeded off the trail. "It's kind of queer about women," he went
+on, "and the place they're supposed to occupy in botany. If I was
+asked to classify them I'd say they was a human loco weed. Ever see
+a bronc that had been chewing loco? Ride him up to a puddle of water
+two feet wide, and he'll give a snort and fall back on you. It looks
+as big as the Mississippi River to him. Next trip he'd walk into a
+canon a thousand feet deep thinking it was a prairie-dog hole. Same
+way with a married man.
+
+"I was thinking of Perry Rountree, that used to be my sidekicker
+before he committed matrimony. In them days me and Perry hated
+indisturbances of any kind. We roamed around considerable, stirring
+up the echoes and making 'em attend to business. Why, when me and
+Perry wanted to have some fun in a town it was a picnic for the
+census takers. They just counted the marshal's posse that it took to
+subdue us, and there was your population. But then there came along
+this Mariana Goodnight girl and looked at Perry sideways, and he was
+all bridle-wise and saddle-broke before you could skin a yearling.
+
+"I wasn't even asked to the wedding. I reckon the bride had my
+pedigree and the front elevation of my habits all mapped out, and
+she decided that Perry would trot better in double harness without
+any unconverted mustang like Buck Caperton whickering around on the
+matrimonial range. So it was six months before I saw Perry again.
+
+"One day I was passing on the edge of town, and I see something
+like a man in a little yard by a little house with a sprinkling-pot
+squirting water on a rose-bush. Seemed to me, I'd seen something
+like it before, and I stopped at the gate, trying to figure out its
+brands. 'Twas not Perry Rountree, but 'twas the kind of a curdled
+jellyfish matrimony had made out of him.
+
+"Homicide was what that Mariana had perpetrated. He was looking
+well enough, but he had on a white collar and shoes, and you could
+tell in a minute that he'd speak polite and pay taxes and stick
+his little finger out while drinking, just like a sheep man or a
+citizen. Great skyrockets! but I hated to see Perry all corrupted
+and Willie-ized like that.
+
+"He came out to the gate, and shook hands; and I says, with scorn,
+and speaking like a paroquet with the pip: 'Beg pardon--Mr.
+Rountree, I believe. Seems to me I sagatiated in your associations
+once, if I am not mistaken.'
+
+"'Oh, go to the devil, Buck,' says Perry, polite, as I was afraid
+he'd be.
+
+"'Well, then,' says I, 'you poor, contaminated adjunct of a
+sprinkling-pot and degraded household pet, what did you go and do
+it for? Look at you, all decent and unriotous, and only fit to sit
+on juries and mend the wood-house door. You was a man once. I have
+hostility for all such acts. Why don't you go in the house and
+count the tidies or set the clock, and not stand out here in the
+atmosphere? A jack-rabbit might come along and bite you.'
+
+"'Now, Buck,' says Perry, speaking mild, and some sorrowful, 'you
+don't understand. A married man has got to be different. He feels
+different from a tough old cloudburst like you. It's sinful to waste
+time pulling up towns just to look at their roots, and playing faro
+and looking upon red liquor, and such restless policies as them.'
+
+"'There was a time,' I says, and I expect I sighed when I mentioned
+it, 'when a certain domesticated little Mary's lamb I could name was
+some instructed himself in the line of pernicious sprightliness. I
+never expected, Perry, to see you reduced down from a full-grown
+pestilence to such a frivolous fraction of a man. Why,' says I,
+'you've got a necktie on; and you speak a senseless kind of indoor
+drivel that reminds me of a storekeeper or a lady. You look to me
+like you might tote an umbrella and wear suspenders, and go home of
+nights.'
+
+"'The little woman,' says Perry, 'has made some improvements, I
+believe. You can't understand, Buck. I haven't been away from the
+house at night since we was married.'
+
+"We talked on a while, me and Perry, and, as sure as I live, that
+man interrupted me in the middle of my talk to tell me about six
+tomato plants he had growing in his garden. Shoved his agricultural
+degradation right up under my nose while I was telling him about the
+fun we had tarring and feathering that faro dealer at California
+Pete's layout! But by and by Perry shows a flicker of sense.
+
+"'Buck,' says he, 'I'll have to admit that it is a little dull at
+times. Not that I'm not perfectly happy with the little woman, but
+a man seems to require some excitement now and then. Now, I'll tell
+you: Mariana's gone visiting this afternoon, and she won't be home
+till seven o'clock. That's the limit for both of us--seven o'clock.
+Neither of us ever stays out a minute after that time unless we are
+together. Now, I'm glad you came along, Buck,' says Perry, 'for I'm
+feeling just like having one more rip-roaring razoo with you for
+the sake of old times. What you say to us putting in the afternoon
+having fun--I'd like it fine,' says Perry.
+
+"I slapped that old captive range-rider half across his little
+garden.
+
+"'Get your hat, you old dried-up alligator,' I shouts, 'you ain't
+dead yet. You're part human, anyhow, if you did get all bogged up
+in matrimony. We'll take this town to pieces and see what makes it
+tick. We'll make all kinds of profligate demands upon the science
+of cork pulling. You'll grow horns yet, old muley cow,' says I,
+punching Perry in the ribs, 'if you trot around on the trail of vice
+with your Uncle Buck.'
+
+"'I'll have to be home by seven, you know,' says Perry again.
+
+"'Oh, yes,' says I, winking to myself, for I knew the kind of seven
+o'clocks Perry Rountree got back by after he once got to passing
+repartee with the bartenders.
+
+"We goes down to the Gray Mule saloon--that old 'dobe building by
+the depot.
+
+"'Give it a name,' says I, as soon as we got one hoof on the
+foot-rest.
+
+"'Sarsaparilla,' says Perry.
+
+"You could have knocked me down with a lemon peeling.
+
+"'Insult me as much as you want to,' I says to Perry, 'but don't
+startle the bartender. He may have heart-disease. Come on, now; your
+tongue got twisted. The tall glasses,' I orders, 'and the bottle in
+the left-hand corner of the ice-chest.'
+
+"'Sarsaparilla,' repeats Perry, and then his eyes get animated, and
+I see he's got some great scheme in his mind he wants to emit.
+
+"'Buck,' says he, all interested, 'I'll tell you what! I want to
+make this a red-letter day. I've been keeping close at home, and I
+want to turn myself a-loose. We'll have the highest old time you
+ever saw. We'll go in the back room here and play checkers till
+half-past six.'
+
+"I leaned against the bar, and I says to Gotch-eared Mike, who was
+on watch:
+
+"'For God's sake don't mention this. You know what Perry used to be.
+He's had the fever, and the doctor says we must humour him.'
+
+"'Give us the checker-board and the men, Mike,' says Perry. 'Come
+on, Buck, I'm just wild to have some excitement.'
+
+"I went in the back room with Perry. Before we closed the door, I
+says to Mike:
+
+"'Don't ever let it straggle out from under your hat that you seen
+Buck Caperton fraternal with sarsaparilla or _persona grata_ with a
+checker-board, or I'll make a swallow-fork in your other ear.'
+
+"I locked the door and me and Perry played checkers. To see that
+poor old humiliated piece of household bric-a-brac sitting there and
+sniggering out loud whenever he jumped a man, and all obnoxious with
+animation when he got into my king row, would have made a sheep-dog
+sick with mortification. Him that was once satisfied only when he
+was pegging six boards at keno or giving the faro dealers nervous
+prostration--to see him pushing them checkers about like Sally
+Louisa at a school-children's party--why, I was all smothered up
+with mortification.
+
+"And I sits there playing the black men, all sweating for fear
+somebody I knew would find it out. And I thinks to myself some about
+this marrying business, and how it seems to be the same kind of a
+game as that Mrs. Delilah played. She give her old man a hair cut,
+and everybody knows what a man's head looks like after a woman cuts
+his hair. And then when the Pharisees came around to guy him he was
+so 'shamed that he went to work and kicked the whole house down on
+top of the whole outfit. 'Them married men,' thinks I, 'lose all
+their spirit and instinct for riot and foolishness. They won't
+drink, they won't buck the tiger, they won't even fight. What do
+they want to go and stay married for?' I asks myself.
+
+"But Perry seems to be having hilarity in considerable quantities.
+
+"'Buck old hoss,' says he, 'isn't this just the hell-roaringest time
+we ever had in our lives? I don't know when I've been stirred up so.
+You see, I've been sticking pretty close to home since I married,
+and I haven't been on a spree in a long time.'
+
+"'Spree!' Yes, that's what he called it. Playing checkers in the
+back room of the Gray Mule! I suppose it did seem to him a little
+immoral and nearer to a prolonged debauch than standing over six
+tomato plants with a sprinkling-pot.
+
+"Every little bit Perry looks at his watch and says:
+
+"'I got to be home, you know, Buck, at seven.'
+
+"'All right,' I'd say. 'Romp along and move. This here excitement's
+killing me. If I don't reform some, and loosen up the strain of this
+checkered dissipation I won't have a nerve left.'
+
+"It might have been half-past six when commotions began to go on
+outside in the street. We heard a yelling and a six-shootering, and
+a lot of galloping and manoeuvres.
+
+"'What's that?' I wonders.
+
+"'Oh, some nonsense outside,' says Perry. 'It's your move. We just
+got time to play this game.'
+
+"'I'll just take a peep through the window,' says I, 'and see. You
+can't expect a mere mortal to stand the excitement of having a king
+jumped and listen to an unidentified conflict going on at the same
+time.'
+
+"The Gray Mule saloon was one of them old Spanish 'dobe buildings,
+and the back room only had two little windows a foot wide, with iron
+bars in 'em. I looked out one, and I see the cause of the rucus.
+
+"There was the Trimble gang--ten of 'em--the worst outfit of
+desperadoes and horse-thieves in Texas, coming up the street
+shooting right and left. They was coming right straight for the Gray
+Mule. Then they got past the range of my sight, but we heard 'em
+ride up to the front door, and then they socked the place full of
+lead. We heard the big looking-glass behind the bar knocked all to
+pieces and the bottles crashing. We could see Gotch-eared Mike in
+his apron running across the plaza like a coyote, with the bullets
+puffing up dust all around him. Then the gang went to work in the
+saloon, drinking what they wanted and smashing what they didn't.
+
+"Me and Petty both knew that gang, and they knew us. The year before
+Perry married, him and me was in the same ranger company--and we
+fought that outfit down on the San Miguel, and brought back Ben
+Trimble and two others for murder.
+
+"'We can't get out,' says I. 'We'll have to stay in here till they
+leave.'
+
+"Perry looked at his watch.
+
+"'Twenty-five to seven,' says he. 'We can finish that game. I got
+two men on you. It's your move, Buck. I got to be home at seven, you
+know.'
+
+"We sat down and went on playing. The Trimble gang had a roughhouse
+for sure. They were getting good and drunk. They'd drink a while and
+holler a while, and then they'd shoot up a few bottles and glasses.
+Two or three times they came and tried to open our door. Then there
+was some more shooting outside, and I looked out the window again.
+Ham Gossett, the town marshal, had a posse in the houses and stores
+across the street, and was trying to bag a Trimble or two through
+the windows.
+
+"I lost that game of checkers. I'm free in saying that I lost three
+kings that I might have saved if I had been corralled in a more
+peaceful pasture. But that drivelling married man sat there and
+cackled when he won a man like an unintelligent hen picking up a
+grain of corn.
+
+"When the game was over Perry gets up and looks at his watch.
+
+"'I've had a glorious time, Buck,' says he, 'but I'll have to be
+going now. It's a quarter to seven, and I got to be home by seven,
+you know.'
+
+"I thought he was joking.
+
+"'They'll clear out or be dead drunk in half an hour or an hour,'
+says I. 'You ain't that tired of being married that you want to
+commit any more sudden suicide, are you?' says I, giving him the
+laugh.
+
+"'One time,' says Perry, 'I was half an hour late getting home. I
+met Mariana on the street looking for me. If you could have seen
+her, Buck--but you don't understand. She knows what a wild kind of
+a snoozer I've been, and she's afraid something will happen. I'll
+never be late getting home again. I'll say good-bye to you now,
+Buck.'
+
+"I got between him and the door.
+
+"'Married man,' says I, 'I know you was christened a fool the minute
+the preacher tangled you up, but don't you never sometimes think one
+little think on a human basis? There's ten of that gang in there,
+and they're pizen with whisky and desire for murder. They'll drink
+you up like a bottle of booze before you get half-way to the door.
+Be intelligent, now, and use at least wild-hog sense. Sit down and
+wait till we have some chance to get out without being carried in
+baskets.'
+
+"'I got to be home by seven, Buck,' repeats this hen-pecked thing of
+little wisdom, like an unthinking poll parrot. 'Mariana,' says he,
+'will be out looking for me.' And he reaches down and pulls a leg
+out of the checker table. 'I'll go through this Trimble outfit,'
+says he, 'like a cottontail through a brush corral. I'm not pestered
+any more with a desire to engage in rucuses, but I got to be home by
+seven. You lock the door after me, Buck. And don't you forget--I won
+three out of them five games. I'd play longer, but Mariana--'
+
+"'Hush up, you old locoed road runner,' I interrupts. 'Did you
+ever notice your Uncle Buck locking doors against trouble? I'm not
+married,' says I, 'but I'm as big a d----n fool as any Mormon.
+One from four leaves three,' says I, and I gathers out another
+leg of the table. 'We'll get home by seven,' says I, 'whether
+it's the heavenly one or the other. May I see you home?' says I,
+'you  sarsaparilla-drinking, checker-playing glutton for death and
+destruction.'
+
+"We opened the door easy, and then stampeded for the front. Part of
+the gang was lined up at the bar; part of 'em was passing over the
+drinks, and two or three was peeping out the door and window and
+taking shots at the marshal's crowd. The room was so full of smoke
+we got half-way to the front door before they noticed us. Then I
+heard Berry Trimble's voice somewhere yell out:
+
+"'How'd that Buck Caperton get in here?' and he skinned the side
+of my neck with a bullet. I reckon he felt bad over that miss, for
+Berry's the best shot south of the Southern Pacific Railroad. But
+the smoke in the saloon was some too thick for good shooting.
+
+"Me and Perry smashed over two of the gang with our table legs,
+which didn't miss like the guns did, and as we run out the door I
+grabbed a Winchester from a fellow who was watching the outside, and
+I turned and regulated the account of Mr. Berry.
+
+"Me and Perry got out and around the corner all right. I never much
+expected to get out, but I wasn't going to be intimidated by that
+married man. According to Perry's idea, checkers was the event of
+the day, but if I am any judge of gentle recreations that little
+table-leg parade through the Gray Mule saloon deserved the
+head-lines in the bill of particulars.
+
+"'Walk fast,' says Perry, 'it's two minutes to seven, and I got to
+be home by--'
+
+"'Oh, shut up,' says I. 'I had an appointment as chief performer at
+an inquest at seven, and I'm not kicking about not keeping it.'
+
+"I had to pass by Perry's little house. His Mariana was standing at
+the gate. We got there at five minutes past seven. She had on a blue
+wrapper, and her hair was pulled back smooth like little girls do
+when they want to look grown-folksy. She didn't see us till we
+got close, for she was gazing up the other way. Then she backed
+around, and saw Perry, and a kind of a look scooted around over her
+face--danged if I can describe it. I heard her breathe long, just
+like a cow when you turn her calf in the lot, and she says: 'You're
+late, Perry.'
+
+"'Five minutes,' says Perry, cheerful. 'Me and old Buck was having a
+game of checkers.'
+
+"Perry introduces me to Mariana, and they ask me to come in. No,
+sir-ee. I'd had enough truck with married folks for that day. I says
+I'll be going along, and that I've spent a very pleasant afternoon
+with my old partner--'especially,' says I, just to jostle Perry,
+'during that game when the table legs came all loose.' But I'd
+promised him not to let her know anything.
+
+"I've been worrying over that business ever since it happened,"
+continued Buck. "There's one thing about it that's got me all
+twisted up, and I can't figure it out."
+
+"What was that?" I asked, as I rolled and handed Buck the last
+cigarette.
+
+"Why, I'll tell you: When I saw the look that little woman gave
+Perry when she turned round and saw him coming back to the ranch
+safe--why was it I got the idea all in a minute that that look of
+hers was worth more than the whole caboodle of us--sarsaparilla,
+checkers, and all, and that the d----n fool in the game wasn't named
+Perry Rountree at all?"
+
+
+
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