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diff --git a/old/rdstn10.txt b/old/rdstn10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7851fe1 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rdstn10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11128 @@ +**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Roads of Destiny, by O. Henry** +#4 in our series by O Henry + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +Roads of Destiny + +by O. 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If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +Etext prepared by John Bickers, jbickers@templar.actrix.gen.nz +and Dagny, dagnyj@hotmail.com + + + + + +ROADS OF DESTINY + +by O. Henry + + + + +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 + + + + +ROADS OF DESTINY + + + +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 Davis, 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 longer 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. +Williams 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. +Roberts' 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 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 Nab, 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 day 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 of 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 +their 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--Virginie, 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 on 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 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 me 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 a 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, 1/100 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 law-makers. 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-wailin' 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 time +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 Simmers 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 sheds 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 green 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 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. Th 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 cause 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 that 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 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/ as 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 indispensable 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 farmers, 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 it 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 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 +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 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 +wandering (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 McKinney'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 years 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 on +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' that young lady Polly Simpson?" asked Jimmy, with specious +guile. + +"Naw," said the boy. "She's Annabel Adams. Her pa owns this bank. +Why'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 whirl 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 the 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 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 Robbi'--/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 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 country, 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 +over 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 looked 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 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 make 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 said 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 with +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. /Vive 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 +square 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 to 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 skin 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 Campania 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 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 rose 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 last 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 +charted 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 Tanse," 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 wanders--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. +Statistic 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 on 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 round 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 /tortilla/, 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 seccession 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 +advance. 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 to 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 Skaneatelese 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 papre, 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 rosewood.' + +"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 clap-board 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 demanded 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 Freisechutz' +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 from 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't 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 +precint," he said to himself, "me nose as 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 on 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 were 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 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 an 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 patroling +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 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 sparked 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,' roads 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 halloing 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 repainted 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 /Kearsage/ 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 be 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 the 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. 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 more +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?" + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Roads of Destiny, by O. Henry + diff --git a/old/rdstn10.zip b/old/rdstn10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0fe8a9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rdstn10.zip |