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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17854-h.zip b/17854-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e2384a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/17854-h.zip diff --git a/17854-h/17854-h.htm b/17854-h/17854-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b90d735 --- /dev/null +++ b/17854-h/17854-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5221 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html +PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sport Of The Gods, by Paul Laurance Dunbar. + </title> + + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; + } + + hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + li { + font-weight: bold; + padding-top: 0.5em; + text-align: center; + font-size: larger; + list-style-type: none; + } + + body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .thoughtbreak { + margin-top: 3em; + } + + .right { + text-align: right; + } + + .center { + text-align: center; + } + + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sport of the Gods, by Paul Laurence Dunbar + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sport of the Gods + +Author: Paul Laurence Dunbar + +Release Date: February 25, 2006 [EBook #17854] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPORT OF THE GODS *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Ledger, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h1><br />THE SPORT OF THE GODS</h1> + + <h1>by</h1> + +<h1>PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR</h1> + + + + + +<h3><br />Author of "Lyrics of Lowly Life," "Poems of Cabin and +Field," "Candle-Lightin' Time," "The Fanatics," etc.</h3> + +<h3>Originally published in 1902</h3> + + + + +<hr /><h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<ul> +<li><a href="#I">I. The Hamiltons</a></li> +<li><a href="#II">II. A Farewell Dinner</a></li> +<li><a href="#III">III. The Theft</a></li> +<li><a href="#IV">IV. From a Clear Sky</a></li> +<li><a href="#V">V. The Justice of Men</a></li> +<li><a href="#VI">VI. Outcasts</a></li> +<li><a href="#VII">VII. In New York</a></li> +<li><a href="#VIII">VIII. An Evening Out</a></li> +<li><a href="#IX">IX. His Heart's Desire</a></li> +<li><a href="#X">X. A Visitor from Home</a></li> +<li><a href="#XI">XI. Broken Hopes</a></li> +<li><a href="#XII">XII. "All the World's a Stage"</a></li> +<li><a href="#XIII">XIII. The Oakleys</a></li> +<li><a href="#XIV">XIV. Frankenstein</a></li> +<li><a href="#XV">XV. "Dear, Damned, Delightful Town"</a></li> +<li><a href="#XVI">XVI. Skaggs's Theory</a></li> +<li><a href="#XVII">XVII. A Yellow Journal</a></li> +<li><a href="#XVIII">XVIII. What Berry Found</a></li> +</ul> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="I" name="I"></a>I.</h2><h2>THE HAMILTONS</h2> + + +<p>Fiction has said so much in regret of the old days when there were +plantations and overseers and masters and slaves, that it was good to +come upon such a household as Berry Hamilton's, if for no other reason +than that it afforded a relief from the monotony of tiresome iteration.</p> + +<p>The little cottage in which he lived with his wife, Fannie, who was +housekeeper to the Oakleys, and his son and daughter, Joe and Kit, sat +back in the yard some hundred paces from the mansion of his employer. It +was somewhat in the manner of the old cabin in the quarters, with which +usage as well as tradition had made both master and servant familiar. +But, unlike the cabin of the elder day, it was a neatly furnished, +modern house, the home of a typical, good-living negro. For twenty years +Berry Hamilton had been butler for Maurice Oakley. He was one of the +many slaves who upon their accession to freedom had not left the South, +but had wandered from place to place in their own beloved section, +waiting, working, and struggling to rise with its rehabilitated +fortunes.</p> + +<p>The first faint signs of recovery were being seen when he came to +Maurice Oakley as a servant. Through thick and thin he remained with +him, and when the final upward tendency of his employer began his +fortunes had increased in like manner. When, having married, Oakley +bought the great house in which he now lived, he left the little +servant's cottage in the yard, for, as he said laughingly, "There is no +telling when Berry will be following my example and be taking a wife +unto himself."</p> + +<p>His joking prophecy came true very soon. Berry had long had a tenderness +for Fannie, the housekeeper. As she retained her post under the new Mrs. +Oakley, and as there was a cottage ready to his hand, it promised to be +cheaper and more convenient all around to get married. Fannie was +willing, and so the matter was settled.</p> + +<p>Fannie had never regretted her choice, nor had Berry ever had cause to +curse his utilitarian ideas. The stream of years had flowed pleasantly +and peacefully with them. Their little sorrows had come, but their joys +had been many.</p> + +<p>As time went on, the little cottage grew in comfort. It was replenished +with things handed down from "the house" from time to time and with +others bought from the pair's earnings.</p> + +<p>Berry had time for his lodge, and Fannie time to spare for her own house +and garden. Flowers bloomed in the little plot in front and behind it; +vegetables and greens testified to the housewife's industry.</p> + +<p>Over the door of the little house a fine Virginia creeper bent and fell +in graceful curves, and a cluster of insistent morning-glories clung in +summer about its stalwart stock.</p> + +<p>It was into this bower of peace and comfort that Joe and Kitty were +born. They brought a new sunlight into the house and a new joy to the +father's and mother's hearts. Their early lives were pleasant and +carefully guarded. They got what schooling the town afforded, but both +went to work early, Kitty helping her mother and Joe learning the trade +of barber.</p> + +<p>Kit was the delight of her mother's life. She was a pretty, cheery +little thing, and could sing like a lark. Joe too was of a cheerful +disposition, but from scraping the chins of aristocrats came to imbibe +some of their ideas, and rather too early in life bid fair to be a +dandy. But his father encouraged him, for, said he, "It 's de p'opah +thing fu' a man what waits on quality to have quality mannahs an' to +waih quality clothes."</p> + +<p>"'T ain't no use to be a-humo'in' dat boy too much, Be'y," Fannie had +replied, although she did fully as much "humo'in'" as her husband; "hit +sho' do mek' him biggety, an' a biggety po' niggah is a 'bomination +befo' de face of de Lawd; but I know 't ain't no use a-talkin' to you, +fu' you plum boun' up in dat Joe."</p> + +<p>Her own eyes would follow the boy lovingly and proudly even as she +chided. She could not say very much, either, for Berry always had the +reply that she was spoiling Kit out of all reason. The girl did have the +prettiest clothes of any of her race in the town, and when she was to +sing for the benefit of the A. M. E. church or for the benefit of her +father's society, the Tribe of Benjamin, there was nothing too good for +her to wear. In this too they were aided and abetted by Mrs. Oakley, who +also took a lively interest in the girl.</p> + +<p>So the two doting parents had their chats and their jokes at each +other's expense and went bravely on, doing their duties and spoiling +their children much as white fathers and mothers are wont to do.</p> + +<p>What the less fortunate negroes of the community said of them and their +offspring is really not worth while. Envy has a sharp tongue, and when +has not the aristocrat been the target for the plebeian's sneers?</p> + +<p>Joe and Kit were respectively eighteen and sixteen at the time when the +preparations for Maurice Oakley's farewell dinner to his brother Francis +were agitating the whole Hamilton household. All of them had a hand in +the work: Joe had shaved the two men; Kit had helped Mrs. Oakley's maid; +the mother had fretted herself weak over the shortcomings of a cook that +had been in the family nearly as long as herself, while Berry was stern +and dignified in anticipation of the glorious figure he was to make in +serving.</p> + +<p>When all was ready, peace again settled upon the Hamiltons. Mrs. +Hamilton, in the whitest of white aprons, prepared to be on hand to +annoy the cook still more; Kit was ready to station herself where she +could view the finery; Joe had condescended to promise to be home in +time to eat some of the good things, and Berry--Berry was gorgeous in +his evening suit with the white waistcoat, as he directed the nimble +waiters hither and thither.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="II" name="II"></a>II.</h2><h2>A FAREWELL DINNER</h2> + + +<p>Maurice Oakley was not a man of sudden or violent enthusiasms. +Conservatism was the quality that had been the foundation of his +fortunes at a time when the disruption of the country had involved most +of the men of his region in ruin.</p> + +<p>Without giving any one ground to charge him with being lukewarm or +renegade to his cause, he had yet so adroitly managed his affairs that +when peace came he was able quickly to recover much of the ground lost +during the war. With a rare genius for adapting himself to new +conditions, he accepted the changed order of things with a passive +resignation, but with a stern determination to make the most out of any +good that might be in it.</p> + +<p>It was a favourite remark of his that there must be some good in every +system, and it was the duty of the citizen to find out that good and +make it pay. He had done this. His house, his reputation, his +satisfaction, were all evidences that he had succeeded.</p> + +<p>A childless man, he bestowed upon his younger brother, Francis, the +enthusiasm he would have given to a son. His wife shared with her +husband this feeling for her brother-in-law, and with him played the +role of parent, which had otherwise been denied her.</p> + +<p>It was true that Francis Oakley was only a half-brother to Maurice, the +son of a second and not too fortunate marriage, but there was no halving +of the love which the elder man had given to him from childhood up.</p> + +<p>At the first intimation that Francis had artistic ability, his brother +had placed him under the best masters in America, and later, when the +promise of his youth had begun to blossom, he sent him to Paris, +although the expenditure just at that time demanded a sacrifice which +might have been the ruin of Maurice's own career. Francis's promise had +never come to entire fulfilment. He was always trembling on the verge of +a great success without quite plunging into it. Despite the joy which +his presence gave his brother and sister-in-law, most of his time was +spent abroad, where he could find just the atmosphere that suited his +delicate, artistic nature. After a visit of two months he was about +returning to Paris for a stay of five years. At last he was going to +apply himself steadily and try to be less the dilettante.</p> + +<p>The company which Maurice Oakley brought together to say good-bye to his +brother on this occasion was drawn from the best that this fine old +Southern town afforded. There were colonels there at whose titles and +the owners' rights to them no one could laugh; there were brilliant +women there who had queened it in Richmond, Baltimore, Louisville, and +New Orleans, and every Southern capital under the old regime, and there +were younger ones there of wit and beauty who were just beginning to +hold their court. For Francis was a great favourite both with men and +women. He was a handsome man, tall, slender, and graceful. He had the +face and brow of a poet, a pallid face framed in a mass of dark hair. +There was a touch of weakness in his mouth, but this was shaded and half +hidden by a full mustache that made much forgivable to beauty-loving +eyes.</p> + +<p>It was generally conceded that Mrs. Oakley was a hostess whose guests +had no awkward half-hour before dinner. No praise could be higher than +this, and to-night she had no need to exert herself to maintain this +reputation. Her brother-in-law was the life of the assembly; he had wit +and daring, and about him there was just that hint of charming danger +that made him irresistible to women. The guests heard the dinner +announced with surprise,--an unusual thing, except in this house.</p> + +<p>Both Maurice Oakley and his wife looked fondly at the artist as he went +in with Claire Lessing. He was talking animatedly to the girl, having +changed the general trend of the conversation to a manner and tone +directed more particularly to her. While she listened to him, her face +glowed and her eyes shone with a light that every man could not bring +into them.</p> + +<p>As Maurice and his wife followed him with their gaze, the same thought +was in their minds, and it had not just come to them, Why could not +Francis marry Claire Lessing and settle in America, instead of going +back ever and again to that life in the Latin Quarter? They did not +believe that it was a bad life or a dissipated one, but from the little +that they had seen of it when they were in Paris, it was at least a bit +too free and unconventional for their traditions. There were, too, +temptations which must assail any man of Francis's looks and talents. +They had perfect faith in the strength of his manhood, of course; but +could they have had their way, it would have been their will to hedge +him about so that no breath of evil invitation could have come nigh to +him.</p> + +<p>But this younger brother, this half ward of theirs, was an unruly +member. He talked and laughed, rode and walked, with Claire Lessing with +the same free abandon, the same show of uninterested good comradeship, +that he had used towards her when they were boy and girl together. There +was not a shade more of warmth or self-consciousness in his manner +towards her than there had been fifteen years before. In fact, there was +less, for there had been a time, when he was six and Claire three, that +Francis, with a boldness that the lover of maturer years tries vainly to +attain, had announced to Claire that he was going to marry her. But he +had never renewed this declaration when it came time that it would carry +weight with it.</p> + +<p>They made a fine picture as they sat together to-night. One seeing them +could hardly help thinking on the instant that they were made for each +other. Something in the woman's face, in her expression perhaps, +supplied a palpable lack in the man. The strength of her mouth and chin +helped the weakness of his. She was the sort of woman who, if ever he +came to a great moral crisis in his life, would be able to save him if +she were near. And yet he was going away from her, giving up the pearl +that he had only to put out his hand to take.</p> + +<p>Some of these thoughts were in the minds of the brother and sister now.</p> + +<p>"Five years does seem a long while," Francis was saying, "but if a man +accomplishes anything, after all, it seems only a short time to look +back upon."</p> + +<p>"All time is short to look back upon. It is the looking forward to it +that counts. It does n't, though, with a man, I suppose. He's doing +something all the while."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a man is always doing something, even if only waiting; but +waiting is such unheroic business."</p> + +<p>"That is the part that usually falls to a woman's lot. I have no doubt +that some dark-eyed mademoiselle is waiting for you now."</p> + +<p>Francis laughed and flushed hotly. Claire noted the flush and wondered +at it. Had she indeed hit upon the real point? Was that the reason that +he was so anxious to get back to Paris? The thought struck a chill +through her gaiety. She did not want to be suspicious, but what was the +cause of that tell-tale flush? He was not a man easily disconcerted; +then why so to-night? But her companion talked on with such innocent +composure that she believed herself mistaken as to the reason for his +momentary confusion.</p> + +<p>Someone cried gayly across the table to her: "Oh, Miss Claire, you will +not dare to talk with such little awe to our friend when he comes back +with his ribbons and his medals. Why, we shall all have to bow to you, +Frank!"</p> + +<p>"You 're wronging me, Esterton," said Francis. "No foreign decoration +could ever be to me as much as the flower of approval from the fair +women of my own State."</p> + +<p>"Hear!" cried the ladies.</p> + +<p>"Trust artists and poets to pay pretty compliments, and this wily friend +of mine pays his at my expense."</p> + +<p>"A good bit of generalship, that, Frank," an old military man broke in. +"Esterton opened the breach and you at once galloped in. That 's the +highest art of war."</p> + +<p>Claire was looking at her companion. Had he meant the approval of the +women, or was it one woman that he cared for? Had the speech had a +hidden meaning for her? She could never tell. She could not understand +this man who had been so much to her for so long, and yet did not seem +to know it; who was full of romance and fire and passion, and yet looked +at her beauty with the eyes of a mere comrade. She sighed as she rose +with the rest of the women to leave the table.</p> + +<p>The men lingered over their cigars. The wine was old and the stories +new. What more could they ask? There was a strong glow in Francis +Oakley's face, and his laugh was frequent and ringing. Some discussion +came up which sent him running up to his room for a bit of evidence. +When he came down it was not to come directly to the dining-room. He +paused in the hall and despatched a servant to bring his brother to him.</p> + +<p>Maurice found him standing weakly against the railing of the stairs. +Something in his air impressed his brother strangely.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Francis?" he questioned, hurrying to him.</p> + +<p>"I have just discovered a considerable loss," was the reply in a grieved +voice.</p> + +<p>"If it is no worse than loss, I am glad; but what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Every cent of money that I had to secure my letter of credit is gone +from my bureau."</p> + +<p>"What? When did it disappear?"</p> + +<p>"I went to my bureau to-night for something and found the money gone; +then I remembered that when I opened it two days ago I must have left +the key in the lock, as I found it to-night."</p> + +<p>"It 's a bad business, but don't let 's talk of it now. Come, let 's go +back to our guests. Don't look so cut up about it, Frank, old man. It is +n't as bad as it might be, and you must n't show a gloomy face +to-night."</p> + +<p>The younger man pulled himself together, and re-entered the room with +his brother. In a few minutes his gaiety had apparently returned.</p> + +<p>When they rejoined the ladies, even their quick eyes could detect in his +demeanour no trace of the annoying thing that had occurred. His face did +not change until, with a wealth of fervent congratulations, he had bade +the last guest good-bye.</p> + +<p>Then he turned to his brother. "When Leslie is in bed, come into the +library. I will wait for you there," he said, and walked sadly away.</p> + +<p>"Poor, foolish Frank," mused his brother, "as if the loss could matter +to him."</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="III" name="III"></a>III.</h2><h2>THE THEFT</h2> + + +<p>Frank was very pale when his brother finally came to him at the +appointed place. He sat limply in his chair, his eyes fixed upon the +floor.</p> + +<p>"Come, brace up now, Frank, and tell me about it."</p> + +<p>At the sound of his brother's voice he started and looked up as though +he had been dreaming.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you 'll think of me, Maurice," he said; "I have never +before been guilty of such criminal carelessness."</p> + +<p>"Don't stop to accuse yourself. Our only hope in this matter lies in +prompt action. Where was the money?"</p> + +<p>"In the oak cabinet and lying in the bureau drawer. Such a thing as a +theft seemed so foreign to this place that I was never very particular +about the box. But I did not know until I went to it to-night that the +last time I had opened it I had forgotten to take the key out. It all +flashed over me in a second when I saw it shining there. Even then I did +n't suspect anything. You don't know how I felt to open that cabinet and +find all my money gone. It 's awful."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry. How much was there in all?"</p> + +<p>"Nine hundred and eighty-six dollars, most of which, I am ashamed to +say, I had accepted from you."</p> + +<p>"You have no right to talk that way, Frank; you know I do not begrudge a +cent you want. I have never felt that my father did quite right in +leaving me the bulk of the fortune; but we won't discuss that now. What +I want you to understand, though, is that the money is yours as well as +mine, and you are always welcome to it."</p> + +<p>The artist shook his head. "No, Maurice," he said, "I can accept no +more from you. I have already used up all my own money and too much of +yours in this hopeless fight. I don't suppose I was ever cut out for an +artist, or I 'd have done something really notable in this time, and +would not be a burden upon those who care for me. No, I 'll give up +going to Paris and find some work to do."</p> + +<p>"Frank, Frank, be silent. This is nonsense, Give up your art? You shall +not do it. You shall go to Paris as usual. Leslie and I have perfect +faith in you. You shall not give up on account of this misfortune. What +are the few paltry dollars to me or to you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, nothing, I know. It is n't the money, it 's the principle of +the thing."</p> + +<p>"Principle be hanged! You go back to Paris to-morrow, just as you had +planned. I do not ask it, I command it."</p> + +<p>The younger man looked up quickly.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, Frank, for using those words and at such a time. You know +how near my heart your success lies, and to hear you talk of giving it +all up makes me forget myself. Forgive me, but you 'll go back, won't +you?"</p> + +<p>"You are too good, Maurice," said Frank impulsively, "and I will go +back, and I 'll try to redeem myself."</p> + +<p>"There is no redeeming of yourself to do, my dear boy; all you have to +do is to mature yourself. We 'll have a detective down and see what we +can do in this matter."</p> + +<p>Frank gave a scarcely perceptible start. "I do so hate such things," he +said; "and, anyway, what 's the use? They 'll never find out where the +stuff went to."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you need not be troubled in this matter. I know that such things +must jar on your delicate nature. But I am a plain hard-headed business +man, and I can attend to it without distaste."</p> + +<p>"But I hate to shove everything unpleasant off on you, It 's what I 've +been doing all my life."</p> + +<p>"Never mind that. Now tell me, who was the last person you remember in +your room?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Esterton was up there awhile before dinner. But he was not alone +two minutes."</p> + +<p>"Why, he would be out of the question anyway. Who else?"</p> + +<p>"Hamilton was up yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Alone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for a while. His boy, Joe, shaved me, and Jack was up for a while +brushing my clothes."</p> + +<p>"Then it lies between Jack and Joe?"</p> + +<p>Frank hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Neither one was left alone, though."</p> + +<p>"Then only Hamilton and Esterton have been alone for any time in your +room since you left the key in your cabinet?"</p> + +<p>"Those are the only ones of whom I know anything. What others went in +during the day, of course, I know nothing about. It could n't have been +either Esterton or Hamilton."</p> + +<p>"Not Esterton, no."</p> + +<p>"And Hamilton is beyond suspicion."</p> + +<p>"No servant is beyond suspicion."</p> + +<p>"I would trust Hamilton anywhere," said Frank stoutly, "and with +anything."</p> + +<p>"That 's noble of you, Frank, and I would have done the same, but we +must remember that we are not in the old days now. The negroes are +becoming less faithful and less contented, and more 's the pity, and a +deal more ambitious, although I have never had any unfaithfulness on the +part of Hamilton to complain of before."</p> + +<p>"Then do not condemn him now."</p> + +<p>"I shall not condemn any one until I have proof positive of his guilt or +such clear circumstantial evidence that my reason is satisfied."</p> + +<p>"I do not believe that you will ever have that against old Hamilton."</p> + +<p>"This spirit of trust does you credit, Frank, and I very much hope that +you may be right. But as soon as a negro like Hamilton learns the value +of money and begins to earn it, at the same time he begins to covet some +easy and rapid way of securing it. The old negro knew nothing of the +value of money. When he stole, he stole hams and bacon and chickens. +These were his immediate necessities and the things he valued. The +present laughs at this tendency without knowing the cause. The present +negro resents the laugh, and he has learned to value other things than +those which satisfy his belly."</p> + +<p>Frank looked bored.</p> + +<p>"But pardon me for boring you. I know you want to go to bed. Go and +leave everything to me."</p> + +<p>The young man reluctantly withdrew, and Maurice went to the telephone +and rung up the police station.</p> + +<p>As Maurice had said, he was a plain, hard-headed business man, and it +took very few words for him to put the Chief of Police in possession of +the principal facts of the case. A detective was detailed to take +charge of the case, and was started immediately, so that he might be +upon the ground as soon after the commission of the crime as possible.</p> + +<p>When he came he insisted that if he was to do anything he must question +the robbed man and search his room at once. Oakley protested, but the +detective was adamant. Even now the presence in the room of a man +uninitiated into the mysteries of criminal methods might be destroying +the last vestige of a really important clue. The master of the house had +no alternative save to yield. Together they went to the artist's room. A +light shone out through the crack under the door.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to disturb you again, Frank, but may we come in?"</p> + +<p>"Who is with you?"</p> + +<p>"The detective."</p> + +<p>"I did not know he was to come to-night."</p> + +<p>"The chief thought it better."</p> + +<p>"All right in a moment."</p> + +<p>There was a sound of moving around, and in a short time the young +fellow, partly undressed, opened the door.</p> + +<p>To the detective's questions he answered in substance what he had told +before. He also brought out the cabinet. It was a strong oak box, +uncarven, but bound at the edges with brass. The key was still in the +lock, where Frank had left it on discovering his loss. They raised the +lid. The cabinet contained two compartments, one for letters and a +smaller one for jewels and trinkets.</p> + +<p>"When you opened this cabinet, your money was gone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Were any of your papers touched?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"How about your jewels?"</p> + +<p>"I have but few and they were elsewhere."</p> + +<p>The detective examined the room carefully, its approaches, and the +hall-ways without. He paused knowingly at a window that overlooked the +flat top of a porch.</p> + +<p>"Do you ever leave this window open?"</p> + +<p>"It is almost always so."</p> + +<p>"Is this porch on the front of the house?"</p> + +<p>"No, on the side."</p> + +<p>"What else is out that way?"</p> + +<p>Frank and Maurice looked at each other. The younger man hesitated and +put his hand to his head. Maurice answered grimly, "My butler's cottage +is on that side and a little way back."</p> + +<p>"Uh huh! and your butler is, I believe, the Hamilton whom the young +gentleman mentioned some time ago."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Frank's face was really very white now. The detective nodded again.</p> + +<p>"I think I have a clue," he said simply. "I will be here again to-morrow +morning."</p> + +<p>"But I shall be gone," said Frank.</p> + +<p>"You will hardly be needed, anyway."</p> + +<p>The artist gave a sigh of relief. He hated to be involved in unpleasant +things. He went as far as the outer door with his brother and the +detective. As he bade the officer good-night and hurried up the hall, +Frank put his hand to his head again with a convulsive gesture, as if +struck by a sudden pain.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Frank, you must take a drink now and go to bed," said +Oakley.</p> + +<p>"I am completely unnerved."</p> + +<p>"I know it, and I am no less shocked than you. But we 've got to face it +like men."</p> + +<p>They passed into the dining-room, where Maurice poured out some brandy +for his brother and himself. "Who would have thought it?" he asked, as +he tossed his own down.</p> + +<p>"Not I. I had hoped against hope up until the last that it would turn +out to be a mistake."</p> + +<p>"Nothing angers me so much as being deceived by the man I have helped +and trusted. I should feel the sting of all this much less if the thief +had come from the outside, broken in, and robbed me, but this, after all +these years, is too low."</p> + +<p>"Don't be hard on a man, Maurice; one never knows what prompts him to a +deed. And this evidence is all circumstantial."</p> + +<p>"It is plain enough for me. You are entirely too kind-hearted, Frank. +But I see that this thing has worn you out. You must not stand here +talking. Go to bed, for you must be fresh for to-morrow morning's +journey to New York."</p> + +<p>Frank Oakley turned away towards his room. His face was haggard, and he +staggered as he walked. His brother looked after him with a pitying and +affectionate gaze.</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow," he said, "he is so delicately constructed that he cannot +stand such shocks as these;" and then he added: "To think of that black +hound's treachery! I 'll give him all that the law sets down for him."</p> + +<p>He found Mrs. Oakley asleep when he reached the room, but he awakened +her to tell her the story. She was horror-struck. It was hard to have to +believe this awful thing of an old servant, but she agreed with him that +Hamilton must be made an example of when the time came. Before that, +however, he must not know that he was suspected.</p> + +<p>They fell asleep, he with thoughts of anger and revenge, and she grieved +and disappointed.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="IV" name="IV"></a>IV.</h2><h2>FROM A CLEAR SKY</h2> + + +<p>The inmates of the Oakley house had not been long in their beds before +Hamilton was out of his and rousing his own little household.</p> + +<p>"You, Joe," he called to his son, "git up f'om daih an' come right +hyeah. You got to he'p me befo' you go to any shop dis mo'nin'. You, +Kitty, stir yo' stumps, miss. I know yo' ma 's a-dressin' now. Ef she +ain't, I bet I 'll be aftah huh in a minute, too. You all layin' 'roun', +snoozin' w'en you all des' pint'ly know dis is de mo'nin' Mistah Frank +go 'way f'om hyeah."</p> + +<p>It was a cool Autumn morning, fresh and dew-washed. The sun was just +rising, and a cool clear breeze was blowing across the land. The blue +smoke from the "house," where the fire was already going, whirled +fantastically over the roofs like a belated ghost. It was just the +morning to doze in comfort, and so thought all of Berry's household +except himself. Loud was the complaining as they threw themselves out of +bed. They maintained that it was an altogether unearthly hour to get up. +Even Mrs. Hamilton added her protest, until she suddenly remembered what +morning it was, when she hurried into her clothes and set about getting +the family's breakfast.</p> + +<p>The good-humour of all of them returned when they were seated about +their table with some of the good things of the night before set out, +and the talk ran cheerily around.</p> + +<p>"I do declaih," said Hamilton, "you all 's as bad as dem white people +was las' night. De way dey waded into dat food was a caution." He +chuckled with delight at the recollection.</p> + +<p>"I reckon dat 's what dey come fu'. I was n't payin' so much 'tention to +what dey eat as to de way dem women was dressed. Why, Mis' Jedge Hill +was des' mo'n go'geous."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, ma, an' Miss Lessing was n't no ways behin' her," put in +Kitty.</p> + +<p>Joe did not condescend to join in the conversation, but contented +himself with devouring the good things and aping the manners of the +young men whom he knew had been among last night's guests.</p> + +<p>"Well, I got to be goin'," said Berry, rising. "There 'll be early +breakfas' at de 'house' dis mo'nin', so 's Mistah Frank kin ketch de +fus' train."</p> + +<p>He went out cheerily to his work. No shadow of impending disaster +depressed his spirits. No cloud obscured his sky. He was a simple, easy +man, and he saw nothing in the manner of the people whom he served that +morning at breakfast save a natural grief at parting from each other. He +did not even take the trouble to inquire who the strange white man was +who hung about the place.</p> + +<p>When it came time for the young man to leave, with the privilege of an +old servitor Berry went up to him to bid him good-bye. He held out his +hand to him, and with a glance at his brother, Frank took it and shook +it cordially. "Good-bye, Berry," he said. Maurice could hardly restrain +his anger at the sight, but his wife was moved to tears at her +brother-in-law's generosity.</p> + +<p>The last sight they saw as the carriage rolled away towards the station +was Berry standing upon the steps waving a hearty farewell and +god-speed.</p> + +<p>"How could you do it, Frank?" gasped his brother, as soon as they had +driven well out of hearing.</p> + +<p>"Hush, Maurice," said Mrs. Oakley gently; "I think it was very noble of +him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I felt sorry for the poor fellow," was Frank's reply. "Promise me +you won't be too hard on him, Maurice. Give him a little scare and let +him go. He 's possibly buried the money, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"I shall deal with him as he deserves."</p> + +<p>The young man sighed and was silent the rest of the way.</p> + +<p>"Whether I fail or succeed, you will always think well of me, Maurice?" +he said in parting; "and if I don't come up to your expectations, +well--forgive me--that 's all."</p> + +<p>His brother wrung his hand. "You will always come up to my expectations, +Frank," he said. "Won't he, Leslie?"</p> + +<p>"He will always be our Frank, our good, generous-hearted, noble boy. God +bless him!"</p> + +<p>The young fellow bade them a hearty good-bye, and they, knowing what his +feelings must be, spared him the prolonging of the strain. They waited +in the carriage, and he waved to them as the train rolled out of the +station.</p> + +<p>"He seems to be sad at going," said Mrs. Oakley.</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow, the affair of last night has broken him up considerably, +but I 'll make Berry pay for every pang of anxiety that my brother has +suffered."</p> + +<p>"Don't be revengeful, Maurice; you know what brother Frank asked of +you."</p> + +<p>"He is gone and will never know what happens, so I may be as revengeful +as I wish."</p> + +<p>The detective was waiting on the lawn when Maurice Oakley returned. They +went immediately to the library, Oakley walking with the firm, hard +tread of a man who is both exasperated and determined, and the officer +gliding along with the cat-like step which is one of the attributes of +his profession.</p> + +<p>"Well?" was the impatient man's question as soon as the door closed upon +them.</p> + +<p>"I have some more information that may or may not be of importance."</p> + +<p>"Out with it; maybe I can tell."</p> + +<p>"First, let me ask if you had any reason to believe that your butler had +any resources of his own, say to the amount of three or four hundred +dollars?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. I pay him thirty dollars a month, and his wife fifteen +dollars, and with keeping up his lodges and the way he dresses that +girl, he can't save very much."</p> + +<p>"You know that he has money in the bank?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well, he has. Over eight hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>"What? Berry? It must be the pickings of years."</p> + +<p>"And yesterday it was increased by five hundred more."</p> + +<p>"The scoundrel!"</p> + +<p>"How was your brother's money, in bills?"</p> + +<p>"It was in large bills and gold, with some silver."</p> + +<p>"Berry's money was almost all in bills of a small denomination and +silver."</p> + +<p>"A poor trick; it could easily have been changed."</p> + +<p>"Not such a sum without exciting comment."</p> + +<p>"He may have gone to several places."</p> + +<p>"But he had only a day to do it in."</p> + +<p>"Then some one must have been his accomplice."</p> + +<p>"That remains to be proven."</p> + +<p>"Nothing remains to be proven. Why, it 's as clear as day that the money +he has is the result of a long series of peculations, and that this last +is the result of his first large theft."</p> + +<p>"That must be made clear to the law."</p> + +<p>"It shall be."</p> + +<p>"I should advise, though, no open proceedings against this servant until +further evidence to establish his guilt is found."</p> + +<p>"If the evidence satisfies me, it must be sufficient to satisfy any +ordinary jury. I demand his immediate arrest."</p> + +<p>"As you will, sir. Will you have him called here and question him, or +will you let me question him at once?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Oakley struck the bell, and Berry himself answered it.</p> + +<p>"You 're just the man we want," said Oakley, shortly.</p> + +<p>Berry looked astonished.</p> + +<p>"Shall I question him," asked the officer, "or will you?"</p> + +<p>"I will. Berry, you deposited five hundred dollars at the bank +yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Well, suh, Mistah Oakley," was the grinning reply, "ef you ain't de +beatenes' man to fin' out things I evah seen."</p> + +<p>The employer half rose from his chair. His face was livid with anger. +But at a sign from the detective he strove to calm himself.</p> + +<p>"You had better let me talk to Berry, Mr. Oakley," said the officer.</p> + +<p>Oakley nodded. Berry was looking distressed and excited. He seemed not +to understand it at all.</p> + +<p>"Berry," the officer pursued, "you admit having deposited five hundred +dollars in the bank yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Sut'ny. Dey ain't no reason why I should n't admit it, 'ceptin' +erroun' ermong dese jealous niggahs."</p> + +<p>"Uh huh! well, now, where did you get this money?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I wo'ked fu' it, o' co'se, whaih you s'pose I got it? 'T ain't +drappin' off trees, I reckon, not roun' dis pa't of de country."</p> + +<p>"You worked for it? You must have done a pretty big job to have got so +much money all in a lump?"</p> + +<p>"But I did n't git it in a lump. Why, man, I 've been savin' dat money +fu mo'n fo' yeahs."</p> + +<p>"More than four years? Why did n't you put it in the bank as you got +it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, mos'ly it was too small, an' so I des' kep' it in a ol' sock. I +tol' Fannie dat some day ef de bank did n't bus' wid all de res' I had, +I 'd put it in too. She was allus sayin' it was too much to have layin' +'roun' de house. But I des' tol' huh dat no robber was n't goin' to +bothah de po' niggah down in de ya'd wid de rich white man up at de +house. But fin'lly I listened to huh an' sposited it yistiddy."</p> + +<p>"You 're a liar! you 're a liar, you black thief!" Oakley broke in +impetuously. "You have learned your lesson well, but you can't cheat me. +I know where that money came from."</p> + +<p>"Calm yourself, Mr. Oakley, calm yourself."</p> + +<p>"I will not calm myself. Take him away. He shall not stand here and lie +to me."</p> + +<p>Berry had suddenly turned ashen.</p> + +<p>"You say you know whaih dat money come f'om? Whaih?"</p> + +<p>"You stole it, you thief, from my brother Frank's room."</p> + +<p>"Stole it! My Gawd, Mistah Oakley, you believed a thing lak dat aftah +all de yeahs I been wid you?"</p> + +<p>"You 've been stealing all along."</p> + +<p>"Why, what shell I do?" said the servant helplessly. "I tell you, Mistah +Oakley, ask Fannie. She 'll know how long I been a-savin' dis money."</p> + +<p>"I 'll ask no one."</p> + +<p>"I think it would be better to call his wife, Oakley."</p> + +<p>"Well, call her, but let this matter be done with soon."</p> + +<p>Fannie was summoned, and when the matter was explained to her, first +gave evidences of giving way to grief, but when the detective began to +question her, she calmed herself and answered directly just as her +husband had.</p> + +<p>"Well posted," sneered Oakley. "Arrest that man."</p> + +<p>Berry had begun to look more hopeful during Fannie's recital, but now +the ashen look came back into his face. At the word "arrest" his wife +collapsed utterly, and sobbed on her husband's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Send the woman away."</p> + +<p>"I won't go," cried Fannie stoutly; "I 'll stay right hyeah by my +husband. You sha'n't drive me away f'om him."</p> + +<p>Berry turned to his employer. "You b'lieve dat I stole f'om dis house +aftah all de yeahs I 've been in it, aftah de caih I took of yo' money +an' yo' valybles, aftah de way I 've put you to bed f'om many a dinnah, +an' you woke up to fin' all yo' money safe? Now, can you b'lieve dis?"</p> + +<p>His voice broke, and he ended with a cry.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I believe it, you thief, yes. Take him away."</p> + +<p>Berry's eyes were bloodshot as he replied, "Den, damn you! damn you! ef +dat 's all dese yeahs counted fu', I wish I had a-stoled it."</p> + +<p>Oakley made a step forward, and his man did likewise, but the officer +stepped between them.</p> + +<p>"Take that damned hound away, or, by God! I 'll do him violence!"</p> + +<p>The two men stood fiercely facing each other, then the handcuffs were +snapped on the servant's wrist.</p> + +<p>"No, no," shrieked Fannie, "you must n't, you must n't. Oh, my Gawd! he +ain 't no thief. I 'll go to Mis' Oakley. She nevah will believe it." +She sped from the room.</p> + +<p>The commotion had called a crowd of curious servants into the hall. +Fannie hardly saw them as she dashed among them, crying for her +mistress. In a moment she returned, dragging Mrs. Oakley by the hand.</p> + +<p>"Tell 'em, oh, tell 'em, Miss Leslie, dat you don't believe it. Don't +let 'em 'rest Berry."</p> + +<p>"Why, Fannie, I can't do anything. It all seems perfectly plain, and Mr. +Oakley knows better than any of us, you know."</p> + +<p>Fannie, her last hope gone, flung herself on the floor, crying, "O Gawd! +O Gawd! he 's gone fu' sho'!"</p> + +<p>Her husband bent over her, the tears dropping from his eyes. "Nevah +min', Fannie," he said, "nevah min'. Hit 's boun' to come out all +right."</p> + +<p>She raised her head, and seizing his manacled hands pressed them to her +breast, wailing in a low monotone, "Gone! gone!"</p> + +<p>They disengaged her hands, and led Berry away.</p> + +<p>"Take her out," said Oakley sternly to the servants; and they lifted her +up and carried her away in a sort of dumb stupor that was half a swoon.</p> + +<p>They took her to her little cottage, and laid her down until she could +come to herself and the full horror of her situation burst upon her.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="V" name="V"></a>V.</h2><h2>THE JUSTICE OF MEN</h2> + + +<p>The arrest of Berry Hamilton on the charge preferred by his employer was +the cause of unusual commotion in the town. Both the accuser and the +accused were well known to the citizens, white and black,--Maurice +Oakley as a solid man of business, and Berry as an honest, sensible +negro, and the pink of good servants. The evening papers had a full +story of the crime, which closed by saying that the prisoner had amassed +a considerable sum of money, it was very likely from a long series of +smaller peculations.</p> + +<p>It seems a strange irony upon the force of right living, that this man, +who had never been arrested before, who had never even been suspected of +wrong-doing, should find so few who even at the first telling doubted +the story of his guilt. Many people began to remember things that had +looked particularly suspicious in his dealings. Some others said, "I did +n't think it of him." There were only a few who dared to say, "I don't +believe it of him."</p> + +<p>The first act of his lodge, "The Tribe of Benjamin," whose treasurer he +was, was to have his accounts audited, when they should have been +visiting him with comfort, and they seemed personally grieved when his +books were found to be straight. The A. M. E. church, of which he had +been an honest and active member, hastened to disavow sympathy with him, +and to purge itself of contamination by turning him out. His friends +were afraid to visit him and were silent when his enemies gloated. On +every side one might have asked, Where is charity? and gone away empty.</p> + +<p>In the black people of the town the strong influence of slavery was +still operative, and with one accord they turned away from one of their +own kind upon whom had been set the ban of the white people's +displeasure. If they had sympathy, they dared not show it. Their own +interests, the safety of their own positions and firesides, demanded +that they stand aloof from the criminal. Not then, not now, nor has it +ever been true, although it has been claimed, that negroes either +harbour or sympathise with the criminal of their kind. They did not dare +to do it before the sixties. They do not dare to do it now. They have +brought down as a heritage from the days of their bondage both fear and +disloyalty. So Berry was unbefriended while the storm raged around him. +The cell where they had placed him was kind to him, and he could not +hear the envious and sneering comments that went on about him. This was +kind, for the tongues of his enemies were not.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, tell me," said one, "you need n't tell me dat a bird kin fly +so high dat he don' have to come down some time. An' w'en he do light, +honey, my Lawd, how he flop!"</p> + +<p>"Mistah Rich Niggah," said another. "He wanted to dress his wife an' +chillen lak white folks, did he? Well, he foun' out, he foun' out. By de +time de jedge git thoo wid him he won't be hol'in' his haid so high."</p> + +<p>"Wy, dat gal o' his'n," broke in old Isaac Brown indignantly, "w'y, she +would n' speak to my gal, Minty, when she met huh on de street. I reckon +she come down off'n huh high hoss now."</p> + +<p>The fact of the matter was that Minty Brown was no better than she +should have been, and did not deserve to be spoken to. But none of this +was taken into account either by the speaker or the hearers. The man was +down, it was time to strike.</p> + +<p>The women too joined their shrill voices to the general cry, and were +loud in their abuse of the Hamiltons and in disparagement of their +high-toned airs.</p> + +<p>"I knowed it, I knowed it," mumbled one old crone, rolling her bleared +and jealous eyes with glee. "W'enevah you see niggahs gittin' so high +dat dey own folks ain' good enough fu' 'em, look out."</p> + +<p>"W'y, la, Aunt Chloe I knowed it too. Dem people got so owdacious proud +dat dey would n't walk up to de collection table no mo' at chu'ch, but +allus set an' waited twell de basket was passed erroun'."</p> + +<p>"Hit 's de livin' trufe, an' I 's been seein' it all 'long. I ain't said +nuffin', but I knowed what 'uz gwine to happen. Ol' Chloe ain't lived +all dese yeahs fu' nuffin', an' ef she got de gif' o' secon' sight, 't +ain't fu' huh to say."</p> + +<p>The women suddenly became interested in this half assertion, and the old +hag, seeing that she had made the desired impression, lapsed into +silence.</p> + +<p>The whites were not neglecting to review and comment on the case also. +It had been long since so great a bit of wrong-doing in a negro had +given them cause for speculation and recrimination.</p> + +<p>"I tell you," said old Horace Talbot, who was noted for his kindliness +towards people of colour, "I tell you, I pity that darky more than I +blame him. Now, here 's my theory." They were in the bar of the +Continental Hotel, and the old gentleman sipped his liquor as he talked. +"It 's just like this: The North thought they were doing a great thing +when they come down here and freed all the slaves. They thought they +were doing a great thing, and I 'm not saying a word against them. I +give them the credit for having the courage of their convictions. But I +maintain that they were all wrong, now, in turning these people loose +upon the country the way they did, without knowledge of what the first +principle of liberty was. The natural result is that these people are +irresponsible. They are unacquainted with the ways of our higher +civilisation, and it 'll take them a long time to learn. You know Rome +was n't built in a day. I know Berry, and I 've known him for a long +while, and a politer, likelier darky than him you would have to go far +to find. And I have n't the least doubt in the world that he took that +money absolutely without a thought of wrong, sir, absolutely. He saw it. +He took it, and to his mental process, that was the end of it. To him +there was no injury inflicted on any one, there was no crime committed. +His elemental reasoning was simply this: This man has more money than I +have; here is some of his surplus,--I 'll just take it. Why, gentlemen, +I maintain that that man took that money with the same innocence of +purpose with which one of our servants a few years ago would have +appropriated a stray ham."</p> + +<p>"I disagree with you entirely, Mr. Talbot," broke in Mr. Beachfield +Davis, who was a mighty hunter.--"Make mine the same, Jerry, only add a +little syrup.--I disagree with you. It 's simply total depravity, that +'s all. All niggers are alike, and there 's no use trying to do anything +with them. Look at that man, Dodson, of mine. I had one of the finest +young hounds in the State. You know that white pup of mine, Mr. Talbot, +that I bought from Hiram Gaskins? Mighty fine breed. Well, I was +spendin' all my time and patience trainin' that dog in the daytime. At +night I put him in that nigger's care to feed and bed. Well, do you +know, I came home the other night and found that black rascal gone? I +went out to see if the dog was properly bedded, and by Jove, the dog was +gone too. Then I got suspicious. When a nigger and a dog go out together +at night, one draws certain conclusions. I thought I had heard bayin' +way out towards the edge of the town. So I stayed outside and watched. +In about an hour here came Dodson with a possum hung over his shoulder +and my dog trottin' at his heels. He 'd been possum huntin' with my +hound--with the finest hound in the State, sir. Now, I appeal to you +all, gentlemen, if that ain't total depravity, what is total depravity?"</p> + +<p>"Not total depravity, Beachfield, I maintain, but the very +irresponsibility of which I have spoken. Why, gentlemen, I foresee the +day when these people themselves shall come to us Southerners of their +own accord and ask to be re-enslaved until such time as they shall be +fit for freedom." Old Horace was nothing if not logical.</p> + +<p>"Well, do you think there 's any doubt of the darky's guilt?" asked +Colonel Saunders hesitatingly. He was the only man who had ever thought +of such a possibility. They turned on him as if he had been some +strange, unnatural animal.</p> + +<p>"Any doubt!" cried Old Horace.</p> + +<p>"Any doubt!" exclaimed Mr. Davis.</p> + +<p>"Any doubt?" almost shrieked the rest. "Why, there can be no doubt. Why, +Colonel, what are you thinking of? Tell us who has got the money if he +has n't? Tell us where on earth the nigger got the money he 's been +putting in the bank? Doubt? Why, there is n't the least doubt about it."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly," said the Colonel, "but I thought, of course, he +might have saved it. There are several of those people, you know, who do +a little business and have bank accounts."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but they are in some sort of business. This man makes only thirty +dollars a month. Don't you see?"</p> + +<p>The Colonel saw, or said he did. And he did not answer what he might +have answered, that Berry had no rent and no board to pay. His clothes +came from his master, and Kitty and Fannie looked to their mistress for +the larger number of their supplies. He did not call to their minds that +Fannie herself made fifteen dollars a month, and that for two years Joe +had been supporting himself. These things did not come up, and as far as +the opinion of the gentlemen assembled in the Continental bar went, +Berry was already proven guilty.</p> + +<p>As for the prisoner himself, after the first day when he had pleaded +"Not guilty" and been bound over to the Grand Jury, he had fallen into +a sort of dazed calm that was like the stupor produced by a drug. He +took little heed of what went on around him. The shock had been too +sudden for him, and it was as if his reason had been for the time +unseated. That it was not permanently overthrown was evidenced by his +waking to the most acute pain and grief whenever Fannie came to him. +Then he would toss and moan and give vent to his sorrow in passionate +complaints.</p> + +<p>"I did n't tech his money, Fannie, you know I did n't. I wo'ked fu' +every cent of dat money, an' I saved it myself. Oh, I 'll nevah be able +to git a job ag'in. Me in de lock-up--me, aftah all dese yeahs!"</p> + +<p>Beyond this, apparently, his mind could not go. That his detention was +anything more than temporary never seemed to enter his mind. That he +would be convicted and sentenced was as far from possibility as the +skies from the earth. If he saw visions of a long sojourn in prison, it +was only as a nightmare half consciously experienced and which with the +struggle must give way before the waking.</p> + +<p>Fannie was utterly hopeless. She had laid down whatever pride had been +hers and gone to plead with Maurice Oakley for her husband's freedom, +and she had seen his hard, set face. She had gone upon her knees before +his wife to cite Berry's long fidelity.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mis' Oakley," she cried, "ef he did steal de money, we 've got +enough saved to mek it good. Let him go! let him go!"</p> + +<p>"Then you admit that he did steal?" Mrs. Oakley had taken her up +sharply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I did n't say dat; I did n't mean dat."</p> + +<p>"That will do, Fannie. I understand perfectly. You should have confessed +that long ago."</p> + +<p>"But I ain't confessin'! I ain't! He did n't----"</p> + +<p>"You may go."</p> + +<p>The stricken woman reeled out of her mistress's presence, and Mrs. +Oakley told her husband that night, with tears in her eyes, how +disappointed she was with Fannie,--that the woman had known it all +along, and had only just confessed. It was just one more link in the +chain that was surely and not too slowly forging itself about Berry +Hamilton.</p> + +<p>Of all the family Joe was the only one who burned with a fierce +indignation. He knew that his father was innocent, and his very +helplessness made a fever in his soul. Dandy as he was, he was loyal, +and when he saw his mother's tears and his sister's shame, something +rose within him that had it been given play might have made a man of +him, but, being crushed, died and rotted, and in the compost it made all +the evil of his nature flourished. The looks and gibes of his +fellow-employees at the barber-shop forced him to leave his work there. +Kit, bowed with shame and grief, dared not appear upon the streets, +where the girls who had envied her now hooted at her. So the little +family was shut in upon itself away from fellowship and sympathy.</p> + +<p>Joe went seldom to see his father. He was not heartless; but the citadel +of his long desired and much vaunted manhood trembled before the sight +of his father's abject misery. The lines came round his lips, and lines +too must have come round his heart. Poor fellow, he was too young for +this forcing process, and in the hot-house of pain he only grew an +acrid, unripe cynic.</p> + +<p>At the sitting of the Grand Jury Berry was indicted. His trial followed +soon, and the town turned out to see it. Some came to laugh and scoff, +but these, his enemies, were silenced by the spectacle of his grief. In +vain the lawyer whom he had secured showed that the evidence against him +proved nothing. In vain he produced proof of the slow accumulation of +what the man had. In vain he pleaded the man's former good name. The +judge and the jury saw otherwise. Berry was convicted. He was given ten +years at hard labour.</p> + +<p>He hardly looked as if he could live out one as he heard his sentence. +But Nature was kind and relieved him of the strain. With a cry as if his +heart were bursting, he started up and fell forward on his face +unconscious. Some one, a bit more brutal than the rest, said, "It 's +five dollars' fine every time a nigger faints," but no one laughed. +There was something too portentous, too tragic in the degradation of +this man.</p> + +<p>Maurice Oakley sat in the court-room, grim and relentless. As soon as +the trial was over, he sent for Fannie, who still kept the cottage in +the yard.</p> + +<p>"You must go," he said. "You can't stay here any longer. I want none of +your breed about me."</p> + +<p>And Fannie bowed her head and went away from him in silence.</p> + +<p>All the night long the women of the Hamilton household lay in bed and +wept, clinging to each other in their grief. But Joe did not go to +sleep. Against all their entreaties, he stayed up. He put out the light +and sat staring into the gloom with hard, burning eyes.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="VI" name="VI"></a>VI.</h2><h2>OUTCASTS</h2> + + +<p>What particularly irritated Maurice Oakley was that Berry should to the +very last keep up his claim of innocence. He reiterated it to the very +moment that the train which was bearing him away pulled out of the +station. There had seldom been seen such an example of criminal +hardihood, and Oakley was hardened thereby to greater severity in +dealing with the convict's wife. He began to urge her more strongly to +move, and she, dispirited and humiliated by what had come to her, looked +vainly about for the way to satisfy his demands. With her natural +protector gone, she felt more weak and helpless than she had thought it +possible to feel. It was hard enough to face the world. But to have to +ask something of it was almost more than she could bear.</p> + +<p>With the conviction of her husband the last five hundred dollars had +been confiscated as belonging to the stolen money, but their former +deposit remained untouched. With this she had the means at her disposal +to tide over their present days of misfortune. It was not money she +lacked, but confidence. Some inkling of the world's attitude towards +her, guiltless though she was, reached her and made her afraid.</p> + +<p>Her desperation, however, would not let her give way to fear, so she set +forth to look for another house. Joe and Kit saw her go as if she were +starting on an expedition into a strange country. In all their lives +they had known no home save the little cottage in Oakley's yard. Here +they had toddled as babies and played as children and been happy and +care-free. There had been times when they had complained and wanted a +home off by themselves, like others whom they knew. They had not +failed, either, to draw unpleasant comparisons between their mode of +life and the old plantation quarters system. But now all this was +forgotten, and there were only grief and anxiety that they must leave +the place and in such a way.</p> + +<p>Fannie went out with little hope in her heart, and a short while after +she was gone Joe decided to follow her and make an attempt to get work.</p> + +<p>"I 'll go an' see what I kin do, anyway, Kit. 'T ain't much use, I +reckon, trying to get into a bahbah shop where they shave white folks, +because all the white folks are down on us. I 'll try one of the +coloured shops."</p> + +<p>This was something of a condescension for Berry Hamilton's son. He had +never yet shaved a black chin or put shears to what he termed "naps," +and he was proud of it. He thought, though, that after the training he +had received from the superior "Tonsorial Parlours" where he had been +employed, he had but to ask for a place and he would be gladly +accepted.</p> + +<p>It is strange how all the foolish little vaunting things that a man says +in days of prosperity wax a giant crop around him in the days of his +adversity. Berry Hamilton's son found this out almost as soon as he had +applied at the first of the coloured shops for work.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, suh," said the proprietor, "I don't think we got anything fu' +you to do; you 're a white man's bahbah. We don't shave nothin' but +niggahs hyeah, an' we shave 'em in de light o' day an' on de groun' +flo'."</p> + +<p>"W'y, I hyeah you say dat you could n't git a paih of sheahs thoo a +niggah's naps. You ain't been practisin' lately, has you?" came from the +back of the shop, where a grinning negro was scraping a fellow's face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you 're done with burr-heads, are you? But burr-heads are good +enough fu' you now."</p> + +<p>"I think," the proprietor resumed, "that I hyeahed you say you was n't +fond o' grape pickin'. Well, Josy, my son, I would n't begin it now, +'specially as anothah kin' o' pickin' seems to run in yo' fambly."</p> + +<p>Joe Hamilton never knew how he got out of that shop. He only knew that +he found himself upon the street outside the door, tears of anger and +shame in his eyes, and the laughs and taunts of his tormentors still +ringing in his ears.</p> + +<p>It was cruel, of course it was cruel. It was brutal. But only he knew +how just it had been. In his moments of pride he had said all those +things, half in fun and half in earnest, and he began to wonder how he +could have been so many kinds of a fool for so long without realising +it.</p> + +<p>He had not the heart to seek another shop, for he knew that what would +be known at one would be equally well known at all the rest. The hardest +thing that he had to bear was the knowledge that he had shut himself out +of all the chances that he now desired. He remembered with a pang the +words of an old negro to whom he had once been impudent, "Nevah min', +boy, nevah min', you 's bo'n, but you ain't daid!"</p> + +<p>It was too true. He had not known then what would come. He had never +dreamed that anything so terrible could overtake him. Even in his +straits, however, desperation gave him a certain pluck. He would try for +something else for which his own tongue had not disqualified him. With +Joe, to think was to do. He went on to the Continental Hotel, where +there were almost always boys wanted to "run the bells." The clerk +looked him over critically. He was a bright, spruce-looking young +fellow, and the man liked his looks.</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess we can take you on," he said. "What 's your name?"</p> + +<p>"Joe," was the laconic answer. He was afraid to say more.</p> + +<p>"Well, Joe, you go over there and sit where you see those fellows in +uniform, and wait until I call the head bellman."</p> + +<p>Young Hamilton went over and sat down on a bench which ran along the +hotel corridor and where the bellmen were wont to stay during the day +awaiting their calls. A few of the blue-coated Mercuries were there. +Upon Joe's advent they began to look askance at him and to talk among +themselves. He felt his face burning as he thought of what they must be +saying. Then he saw the head bellman talking to the clerk and looking in +his direction. He saw him shake his head and walk away. He could have +cursed him. The clerk called to him.</p> + +<p>"I did n't know," he said,--"I did n't know that you were Berry +Hamilton's boy. Now, I 've got nothing against you myself. I don't hold +you responsible for what your father did, but I don't believe our boys +would work with you. I can't take you on."</p> + +<p>Joe turned away to meet the grinning or contemptuous glances of the +bellmen on the seat. It would have been good to be able to hurl +something among them. But he was helpless.</p> + +<p>He hastened out of the hotel, feeling that every eye was upon him, every +finger pointing at him, every tongue whispering, "There goes Joe +Hamilton, whose father went to the penitentiary the other day."</p> + +<p>What should he do? He could try no more. He was proscribed, and the +letters of his ban were writ large throughout the town, where all who +ran might read. For a while he wandered aimlessly about and then turned +dejectedly homeward. His mother had not yet come.</p> + +<p>"Did you get a job?" was Kit's first question.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered bitterly, "no one wants me now."</p> + +<p>"No one wants you? Why, Joe--they--they don't think hard of us, do +they?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what they think of ma and you, but they think hard of me, +all right."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you worry; it 'll be all right when it blows over."</p> + +<p>"Yes, when it all blows over; but when 'll that be?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, after a while, when we can show 'em we 're all right."</p> + +<p>Some of the girl's cheery hopefulness had come back to her in the +presence of her brother's dejection, as a woman always forgets her own +sorrow when some one she loves is grieving. But she could not +communicate any of her feeling to Joe, who had been and seen and felt, +and now sat darkly waiting his mother's return. Some presentiment seemed +to tell him that, armed as she was with money to pay for what she wanted +and asking for nothing without price, she would yet have no better tale +to tell than he.</p> + +<p>None of these forebodings visited the mind of Kit, and as soon as her +mother appeared on the threshold she ran to her, crying, "Oh, where are +we going to live, ma?"</p> + +<p>Fannie looked at her for a moment, and then answered with a burst of +tears, "Gawd knows, child, Gawd knows."</p> + +<p>The girl stepped back astonished. "Why, why!" and then with a rush of +tenderness she threw her arms about her mother's neck. "Oh, you 're +tired to death," she said; "that 's what 's the matter with you. Never +mind about the house now. I 've got some tea made for you, and you just +take a cup."</p> + +<p>Fannie sat down and tried to drink her tea, but she could not. It stuck +in her throat, and the tears rolled down her face and fell into the +shaking cup. Joe looked on silently. He had been out and he understood.</p> + +<p>"I 'll go out to-morrow and do some looking around for a house while you +stay at home an' rest, ma."</p> + +<p>Her mother looked up, the maternal instinct for the protection of her +daughter at once aroused. "Oh, no, not you, Kitty," she said.</p> + +<p>Then for the first time Joe spoke: "You 'd just as well tell Kitty now, +ma, for she 's got to come across it anyhow."</p> + +<p>"What you know about it? Whaih you been to?"</p> + +<p>"I 've been out huntin' work. I 've been to Jones's bahbah shop an' to +the Continental Hotel." His light-brown face turned brick red with anger +and shame at the memory of it. "I don't think I 'll try any more."</p> + +<p>Kitty was gazing with wide and saddening eyes at her mother.</p> + +<p>"Were they mean to you too, ma?" she asked breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Mean? Oh Kitty! Kitty! you don't know what it was like. It nigh killed +me. Thaih was plenty of houses an' owned by people I 've knowed fu' +yeahs, but not one of 'em wanted to rent to me. Some of 'em made excuses +'bout one thing er t' other, but de res' come right straight out an' +said dat we 'd give a neighbourhood a bad name ef we moved into it. I +'ve almos' tramped my laigs off. I 've tried every decent place I could +think of, but nobody wants us."</p> + +<p>The girl was standing with her hands clenched nervously before her. It +was almost more than she could understand.</p> + +<p>"Why, we ain't done anything," she said. "Even if they don't know any +better than to believe that pa was guilty, they know we ain't done +anything."</p> + +<p>"I 'd like to cut the heart out of a few of 'em," said Joe in his +throat.</p> + +<p>"It ain't goin' to do no good to look at it that a-way, Joe," his mother +replied. "I know hit 's ha'd, but we got to do de bes' we kin."</p> + +<p>"What are we goin' to do?" cried the boy fiercely. "They won't let us +work. They won't let us live anywhaih. Do they want us to live on the +levee an' steal, like some of 'em do?"</p> + +<p>"What are we goin' to do?" echoed Kitty helplessly. "I 'd go out ef I +thought I could find anythin' to work at."</p> + +<p>"Don't you go anywhaih, child. It 'ud only be worse. De niggah men dat +ust to be bowin' an' scrapin' to me an' tekin' off dey hats to me +laughed in my face. I met Minty--an' she slurred me right in de street. +Dey 'd do worse fu' you."</p> + +<p>In the midst of the conversation a knock came at the door. It was a +messenger from the "House," as they still called Oakley's home, and he +wanted them to be out of the cottage by the next afternoon, as the new +servants were coming and would want the rooms.</p> + +<p>The message was so curt, so hard and decisive, that Fannie was startled +out of her grief into immediate action.</p> + +<p>"Well, we got to go," she said, rising wearily.</p> + +<p>"But where are we goin'?" wailed Kitty in affright. "There 's no place +to go to. We have n't got a house. Where 'll we go?"</p> + +<p>"Out o' town someplace as fur away from this damned hole as we kin +git." The boy spoke recklessly in his anger. He had never sworn before +his mother before.</p> + +<p>She looked at him in horror. "Joe, Joe," she said, "you 're mekin' it +wuss. You 're mekin' it ha'dah fu' me to baih when you talk dat a-way. +What you mean? Whaih you think Gawd is?"</p> + +<p>Joe remained sullenly silent. His mother's faith was too stalwart for +his comprehension. There was nothing like it in his own soul to +interpret it.</p> + +<p>"We 'll git de secon'-han' dealah to tek ouah things to-morrer, an' then +we 'll go away some place, up No'th maybe."</p> + +<p>"Let 's go to New York," said Joe.</p> + +<p>"New Yo'k?"</p> + +<p>They had heard of New York as a place vague and far away, a city that, +like Heaven, to them had existed by faith alone. All the days of their +lives they had heard of it, and it seemed to them the centre of all the +glory, all the wealth, and all the freedom of the world. New York. It +had an alluring sound. Who would know them there? Who would look down +upon them?</p> + +<p>"It 's a mighty long ways off fu' me to be sta'tin' at dis time o' +life."</p> + +<p>"We want to go a long ways off."</p> + +<p>"I wonder what pa would think of it if he was here," put in Kitty.</p> + +<p>"I guess he 'd think we was doin' the best we could."</p> + +<p>"Well, den, Joe," said his mother, her voice trembling with emotion at +the daring step they were about to take, "you set down an' write a +lettah to yo' pa, an' tell him what we goin' to do, an' +to-morrer--to-morrer--we 'll sta't."</p> + +<p>Something akin to joy came into the boy's heart as he sat down to write +the letter. They had taunted him, had they? They had scoffed at him. But +he was going where they might never go, and some day he would come back +holding his head high and pay them sneer for sneer and jibe for jibe.</p> + +<p>The same night the commission was given to the furniture dealer who +would take charge of their things and sell them when and for what he +could.</p> + +<p>From his window the next morning Maurice Oakley watched the wagon +emptying the house. Then he saw Fannie come out and walk about her +little garden, followed by her children. He saw her as she wiped her +eyes and led the way to the side gate.</p> + +<p>"Well, they 're gone," he said to his wife. "I wonder where they 're +going to live?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, some of their people will take them in," replied Mrs. Oakley +languidly.</p> + +<p>Despite the fact that his mother carried with her the rest of the money +drawn from the bank, Joe had suddenly stepped into the place of the man +of the family. He attended to all the details of their getting away with +a promptness that made it seem untrue that he had never been more than +thirty miles from his native town. He was eager and excited. As the +train drew out of the station, he did not look back upon the place which +he hated, but Fannie and her daughter let their eyes linger upon it +until the last house, the last chimney, and the last spire faded from +their sight, and their tears fell and mingled as they were whirled away +toward the unknown.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="VII" name="VII"></a>VII.</h2><h2>IN NEW YORK</h2> + + +<p>To the provincial coming to New York for the first time, ignorant and +unknown, the city presents a notable mingling of the qualities of +cheeriness and gloom. If he have any eye at all for the beautiful, he +cannot help experiencing a thrill as he crosses the ferry over the river +filled with plying craft and catches the first sight of the spires and +buildings of New York. If he have the right stuff in him, a something +will take possession of him that will grip him again every time he +returns to the scene and will make him long and hunger for the place +when he is away from it. Later, the lights in the busy streets will +bewilder and entice him. He will feel shy and helpless amid the hurrying +crowds. A new emotion will take his heart as the people hasten by +him,--a feeling of loneliness, almost of grief, that with all of these +souls about him he knows not one and not one of them cares for him. +After a while he will find a place and give a sigh of relief as he +settles away from the city's sights behind his cosey blinds. It is +better here, and the city is cruel and cold and unfeeling. This he will +feel, perhaps, for the first half-hour, and then he will be out in it +all again. He will be glad to strike elbows with the bustling mob and be +happy at their indifference to him, so that he may look at them and +study them. After it is all over, after he has passed through the first +pangs of strangeness and homesickness, yes, even after he has got beyond +the stranger's enthusiasm for the metropolis, the real fever of love for +the place will begin to take hold upon him. The subtle, insidious wine +of New York will begin to intoxicate him. Then, if he be wise, he will +go away, any place,--yes, he will even go over to Jersey. But if he be a +fool, he will stay and stay on until the town becomes all in all to him; +until the very streets are his chums and certain buildings and corners +his best friends. Then he is hopeless, and to live elsewhere would be +death. The Bowery will be his romance, Broadway his lyric, and the Park +his pastoral, the river and the glory of it all his epic, and he will +look down pityingly on all the rest of humanity.</p> + +<p>It was the afternoon of a clear October day that the Hamiltons reached +New York. Fannie had some misgivings about crossing the ferry, but once +on the boat these gave way to speculations as to what they should find +on the other side. With the eagerness of youth to take in new +impressions, Joe and Kitty were more concerned with what they saw about +them than with what their future would hold, though they might well have +stopped to ask some such questions. In all the great city they knew +absolutely no one, and had no idea which way to go to find a +stopping-place.</p> + +<p>They looked about them for some coloured face, and finally saw one among +the porters who were handling the baggage. To Joe's inquiry he gave them +an address, and also proffered his advice as to the best way to reach +the place. He was exceedingly polite, and he looked hard at Kitty. They +found the house to which they had been directed, and were a good deal +surprised at its apparent grandeur. It was a four-storied brick dwelling +on Twenty-seventh Street. As they looked from the outside, they were +afraid that the price of staying in such a place would be too much for +their pockets. Inside, the sight of the hard, gaudily upholstered +instalment-plan furniture did not disillusion them, and they continued +to fear that they could never stop at this fine place. But they found +Mrs. Jones, the proprietress, both gracious and willing to come to terms +with them.</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Hamilton--she began to be Mrs. Hamilton now, to the exclusion of +Fannie--would have described Mrs. Jones, she was a "big yellow woman." +She had a broad good-natured face and a tendency to run to bust.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I think I could arrange to take you. I could let you +have two rooms, and you could use my kitchen until you decided whether +you wanted to take a flat or not. I has the whole house myself, and I +keeps roomers. But latah on I could fix things so 's you could have the +whole third floor ef you wanted to. Most o' my gent'men 's railroad +gent'men, they is. I guess it must 'a' been Mr. Thomas that sent you up +here."</p> + +<p>"He was a little bright man down at de deepo."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that 's him. That 's Mr. Thomas. He 's always lookin' out to send +some one here, because he 's been here three years hisself an' he kin +recommend my house."</p> + +<p>It was a relief to the Hamiltons to find Mrs. Jones so gracious and +home-like. So the matter was settled, and they took up their abode with +her and sent for their baggage.</p> + +<p>With the first pause in the rush that they had experienced since +starting away from home, Mrs. Hamilton began to have time for +reflection, and their condition seemed to her much better as it was. Of +course, it was hard to be away from home and among strangers, but the +arrangement had this advantage,--that no one knew them or could taunt +them with their past trouble. She was not sure that she was going to +like New York. It had a great name and was really a great place, but the +very bigness of it frightened her and made her feel alone, for she knew +that there could not be so many people together without a deal of +wickedness. She did not argue the complement of this, that the amount of +good would also be increased, but this was because to her evil was the +very present factor in her life.</p> + +<p>Joe and Kit were differently affected by what they saw about them. The +boy was wild with enthusiasm and with a desire to be a part of all that +the metropolis meant. In the evening he saw the young fellows passing by +dressed in their spruce clothes, and he wondered with a sort of envy +where they could be going. Back home there had been no place much worth +going to, except church and one or two people's houses. But these young +fellows seemed to show by their manners that they were neither going to +church nor a family visiting. In the moment that he recognised this, a +revelation came to him,--the knowledge that his horizon had been very +narrow, and he felt angry that it was so. Why should those fellows be +different from him? Why should they walk the streets so knowingly, so +independently, when he knew not whither to turn his steps? Well, he was +in New York, and now he would learn. Some day some greenhorn from the +South should stand at a window and look out envying him, as he passed, +red-cravated, patent-leathered, intent on some goal. Was it not better, +after all, that circumstances had forced them thither? Had it not been +so, they might all have stayed home and stagnated. Well, thought he, it +'s an ill wind that blows nobody good, and somehow, with a guilty +under-thought, he forgot to feel the natural pity for his father, +toiling guiltless in the prison of his native State.</p> + +<p>Whom the Gods wish to destroy they first make mad. The first sign of the +demoralisation of the provincial who comes to New York is his pride at +his insensibility to certain impressions which used to influence him at +home. First, he begins to scoff, and there is no truth in his views nor +depth in his laugh. But by and by, from mere pretending, it becomes +real. He grows callous. After that he goes to the devil very cheerfully.</p> + +<p>No such radical emotions, however, troubled Kit's mind. She too stood at +the windows and looked down into the street. There was a sort of +complacent calm in the manner in which she viewed the girls' hats and +dresses. Many of them were really pretty, she told herself, but for the +most part they were not better than what she had had down home. There +was a sound quality in the girl's make-up that helped her to see through +the glamour of mere place and recognise worth for itself. Or it may have +been the critical faculty, which is prominent in most women, that kept +her from thinking a five-cent cheese-cloth any better in New York than +it was at home. She had a certain self-respect which made her value +herself and her own traditions higher than her brother did his.</p> + +<p>When later in the evening the porter who had been kind to them came in +and was introduced as Mr. William Thomas, young as she was, she took his +open admiration for her with more coolness than Joe exhibited when +Thomas offered to show him something of the town some day or night.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thomas was a loquacious little man with a confident air born of an +intense admiration of himself. He was the idol of a number of +servant-girls' hearts, and altogether a decidedly dashing back-area-way +Don Juan.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, Miss Kitty," he burst forth, a few minutes after being +introduced, "they ain't no use talkin', N' Yawk 'll give you a shakin' +up 'at you won't soon forget. It 's the only town on the face of the +earth. You kin bet your life they ain't no flies on N' Yawk. We git the +best shows here, we git the best concerts--say, now, what 's the use o' +my callin' it all out?--we simply git the best of everything."</p> + +<p>"Great place," said Joe wisely, in what he thought was going to be quite +a man-of-the-world manner. But he burned with shame the next minute +because his voice sounded so weak and youthful. Then too the oracle only +said "Yes" to him, and went on expatiating to Kitty on the glories of +the metropolis.</p> + +<p>"D'jever see the statue o' Liberty? Great thing, the statue o' Liberty. +I 'll take you 'round some day. An' Cooney Island--oh, my, now that 's +the place; and talk about fun! That 's the place for me."</p> + +<p>"La, Thomas," Mrs. Jones put in, "how you do run on! Why, the strangers +'ll think they 'll be talked to death before they have time to breathe."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I guess the folks understan' me. I 'm one o' them kin' o' men 'at +believe in whooping things up right from the beginning. I 'm never +strange with anybody. I 'm a N' Yawker, I tell you, from the word go. I +say, Mis' Jones, let 's have some beer, an' we 'll have some music purty +soon. There 's a fellah in the house 'at plays 'Rag-time' out o' sight."</p> + +<p>Mr. Thomas took the pail and went to the corner. As he left the room, +Mrs. Jones slapped her knee and laughed until her bust shook like jelly.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Thomas is a case, sho'," she said; "but he likes you all, an' I 'm +mighty glad of it, fu' he 's mighty curious about the house when he +don't like the roomers."</p> + +<p>Joe felt distinctly flattered, for he found their new acquaintance +charming. His mother was still a little doubtful, and Kitty was sure she +found the young man "fresh."</p> + +<p>He came in pretty soon with his beer, and a half-dozen crabs in a bag.</p> + +<p>"Thought I 'd bring home something to chew. I always like to eat +something with my beer."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jones brought in the glasses, and the young man filled one and +turned to Kitty.</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," she said with a surprised look.</p> + +<p>"What, don't you drink beer? Oh, come now, you 'll get out o' that."</p> + +<p>"Kitty don't drink no beer," broke in her mother with mild resentment. +"I drinks it sometimes, but she don't. I reckon maybe de chillen better +go to bed."</p> + +<p>Joe felt as if the "chillen" had ruined all his hopes, but Kitty rose.</p> + +<p>The ingratiating "N' Yawker" was aghast.</p> + +<p>"Oh, let 'em stay," said Mrs. Jones heartily; "a little beer ain't goin' +to hurt 'em. Why, sakes, I know my father gave me beer from the time I +could drink it, and I knows I ain't none the worse fu' it."</p> + +<p>"They 'll git out o' that, all right, if they live in N' Yawk," said Mr. +Thomas, as he poured out a glass and handed it to Joe. "You neither?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I drink it," said the boy with an air, but not looking at his +mother.</p> + +<p>"Joe," she cried to him, "you must ricollect you ain't at home. What 'ud +yo' pa think?" Then she stopped suddenly, and Joe gulped his beer and +Kitty went to the piano to relieve her embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that 's it, Miss Kitty, sing us something," said the irrepressible +Thomas, "an' after while we 'll have that fellah down that plays +'Rag-time.' He 's out o' sight, I tell you."</p> + +<p>With the pretty shyness of girlhood, Kitty sang one or two little songs +in the simple manner she knew. Her voice was full and rich. It delighted +Mr. Thomas.</p> + +<p>"I say, that 's singin' now, I tell you," he cried. "You ought to have +some o' the new songs. D' jever hear 'Baby, you got to leave'? I tell +you, that 's a hot one. I 'll bring you some of 'em. Why, you could git +a job on the stage easy with that voice o' yourn. I got a frien' in one +o' the comp'nies an' I 'll speak to him about you."</p> + +<p>"You ought to git Mr. Thomas to take you to the th'atre some night. He +goes lots."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, what 's the matter with to-morrer night? There 's a good coon +show in town. Out o' sight. Let 's all go."</p> + +<p>"I ain't nevah been to nothin' lak dat, an' I don't know," said Mrs. +Hamilton.</p> + +<p>"Aw, come, I 'll git the tickets an' we 'll all go. Great singin', you +know. What d' you say?"</p> + +<p>The mother hesitated, and Joe filled the breach.</p> + +<p>"We 'd all like to go," he said. "Ma, we' ll go if you ain't too tired."</p> + +<p>"Tired? Pshaw, you 'll furgit all about your tiredness when Smithkins +gits on the stage. Y' ought to hear him sing, 'I bin huntin' fu' wo'k'! +You 'd die laughing."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hamilton made no further demur, and the matter was closed.</p> + +<p>Awhile later the "Rag-time" man came down and gave them a sample of what +they were to hear the next night. Mr. Thomas and Mrs. Jones two-stepped, +and they sent a boy after some more beer. Joe found it a very jolly +evening, but Kit's and the mother's hearts were heavy as they went up to +bed.</p> + +<p>"Say," said Mr. Thomas when they had gone, "that little girl 's a peach, +you bet; a little green, I guess, but she 'll ripen in the sun."</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="VIII" name="VIII"></a>VIII.</h2><h2>AN EVENING OUT</h2> + + +<p>Fannie Hamilton, tired as she was, sat long into the night with her +little family discussing New York,--its advantages and disadvantages, +its beauty and its ugliness, its morality and immorality. She had +somewhat receded from her first position, that it was better being here +in the great strange city than being at home where the very streets +shamed them. She had not liked the way that their fellow lodger looked +at Kitty. It was bold, to say the least. She was not pleased, either, +with their new acquaintance's familiarity. And yet, he had said no more +than some stranger, if there could be such a stranger, would have said +down home. There was a difference, however, which she recognised. Thomas +was not the provincial who puts every one on a par with himself, nor was +he the metropolitan who complacently patronises the whole world. He was +trained out of the one and not up to the other. The intermediate only +succeeded in being offensive. Mrs. Jones' assurance as to her guest's +fine qualities did not do all that might have been expected to reassure +Mrs. Hamilton in the face of the difficulties of the gentleman's manner.</p> + +<p>She could not, however, lay her finger on any particular point that +would give her the reason for rejecting his friendly advances. She got +ready the next evening to go to the theatre with the rest. Mr. Thomas at +once possessed himself of Kitty and walked on ahead, leaving Joe to +accompany his mother and Mrs. Jones,--an arrangement, by the way, not +altogether to that young gentleman's taste. A good many men bowed to +Thomas in the street, and they turned to look enviously after him. At +the door of the theatre they had to run the gantlet of a dozen pairs of +eyes. Here, too, the party's guide seemed to be well known, for some one +said, before they passed out of hearing, "I wonder who that little light +girl is that Thomas is with to-night? He 's a hot one for you."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hamilton had been in a theatre but once before in her life, and Joe +and Kit but a few times oftener. On those occasions they had sat far up +in the peanut gallery in the place reserved for people of colour. This +was not a pleasant, cleanly, nor beautiful locality, and by contrast +with it, even the garishness of the cheap New York theatre seemed fine +and glorious.</p> + +<p>They had good seats in the first balcony, and here their guide had shown +his managerial ability again, for he had found it impossible, or said +so, to get all the seats together, so that he and the girl were in the +row in front and to one side of where the rest sat. Kitty did not like +the arrangement, and innocently suggested that her brother take her seat +while she went back to her mother. But her escort overruled her +objections easily, and laughed at her so frankly that from very shame +she could not urge them again, and they were soon forgotten in her +wonder at the mystery and glamour that envelops the home of the drama. +There was something weird to her in the alternate spaces of light and +shade. Without any feeling of its ugliness, she looked at the curtain as +at a door that should presently open between her and a house of wonders. +She looked at it with the fascination that one always experiences for +what either brings near or withholds the unknown.</p> + +<p>As for Joe, he was not bothered by the mystery or the glamour of things. +But he had suddenly raised himself in his own estimation. He had gazed +steadily at a girl across the aisle until she had smiled in response. Of +course, he went hot and cold by turns, and the sweat broke out on his +brow, but instantly he began to swell. He had made a decided advance in +knowledge, and he swelled with the consciousness that already he was +coming to be a man of the world. He looked with a new feeling at the +swaggering, sporty young negroes. His attitude towards them was not one +of humble self-depreciation any more. Since last night he had grown, +and felt that he might, that he would, be like them, and it put a sort +of chuckling glee into his heart.</p> + +<p>One might find it in him to feel sorry for this small-souled, warped +being, for he was so evidently the jest of Fate, if it were not that he +was so blissfully, so conceitedly, unconscious of his own nastiness. +Down home he had shaved the wild young bucks of the town, and while +doing it drunk in eagerly their unguarded narrations of their gay +exploits. So he had started out with false ideals as to what was fine +and manly. He was afflicted by a sort of moral and mental astigmatism +that made him see everything wrong. As he sat there to-night, he gave to +all he saw a wrong value and upon it based his ignorant desires.</p> + +<p>When the men of the orchestra filed in and began tuning their +instruments, it was the signal for an influx of loiterers from the door. +There were a large number of coloured people in the audience, and +because members of their own race were giving the performance, they +seemed to take a proprietary interest in it all. They discussed its +merits and demerits as they walked down the aisle in much the same tone +that the owners would have used had they been wondering whether the +entertainment was going to please the people or not.</p> + +<p>Finally the music struck up one of the numerous negro marches. It was +accompanied by the rhythmic patting of feet from all parts of the house. +Then the curtain went up on a scene of beauty. It purported to be a +grove to which a party of picnickers, the ladies and gentlemen of the +chorus, had come for a holiday, and they were telling the audience all +about it in crescendos. With the exception of one, who looked like a +faded kid glove, the men discarded the grease paint, but the women under +their make-ups ranged from pure white, pale yellow, and sickly greens to +brick reds and slate grays. They were dressed in costumes that were not +primarily intended for picnic going. But they could sing, and they did +sing, with their voices, their bodies, their souls. They threw +themselves into it because they enjoyed and felt what they were doing, +and they gave almost a semblance of dignity to the tawdry music and +inane words.</p> + +<p>Kitty was enchanted. The airily dressed women seemed to her like +creatures from fairy-land. It is strange how the glare of the footlights +succeeds in deceiving so many people who are able to see through other +delusions. The cheap dresses on the street had not fooled Kitty for an +instant, but take the same cheese-cloth, put a little water starch into +it, and put it on the stage, and she could see only chiffon.</p> + +<p>She turned around and nodded delightedly at her brother, but he did not +see her. He was lost, transfixed. His soul was floating on a sea of +sense. He had eyes and ears and thoughts only for the stage. His nerves +tingled and his hands twitched. Only to know one of those radiant +creatures, to have her speak to him, smile at him! If ever a man was +intoxicated, Joe was. Mrs. Hamilton was divided between shame at the +clothes of some of the women and delight with the music. Her companion +was busy pointing out who this and that actress was, and giving +jelly-like appreciation to the doings on the stage.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thomas was the only cool one in the party. He was quietly taking +stock of his young companion,--of her innocence and charm. She was a +pretty girl, little and dainty, but well developed for her age. Her hair +was very black and wavy, and some strain of the South's chivalric blood, +which is so curiously mingled with the African in the veins of most +coloured people, had tinged her skin to an olive hue.</p> + +<p>"Are you enjoying yourself?" he leaned over and whispered to her. His +voice was very confidential and his lips near her ear, but she did not +notice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she answered, "this is grand. How I 'd like to be an actress +and be up there!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe you will some day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I 'm not smart enough."</p> + +<p>"We 'll see," he said wisely; "I know a thing or two."</p> + +<p>Between the first and second acts a number of Thomas's friends strolled +up to where he sat and began talking, and again Kitty's embarrassment +took possession of her as they were introduced one by one. They treated +her with a half-courteous familiarity that made her blush. Her mother +was not pleased with the many acquaintances that her daughter was +making, and would have interfered had not Mrs. Jones assured her that +the men clustered about their host's seat were some of the "best people +in town." Joe looked at them hungrily, but the man in front with his +sister did not think it necessary to include the brother or the rest of +the party in his miscellaneous introductions.</p> + +<p>One brief bit of conversation which the mother overheard especially +troubled her.</p> + +<p>"Not going out for a minute or two?" asked one of the men, as he was +turning away from Thomas.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think I 'll go out to-night. You can have my share."</p> + +<p>The fellow gave a horse laugh and replied, "Well, you 're doing a great +piece of work, Miss Hamilton, whenever you can keep old Bill from goin' +out an' lushin' between acts. Say, you got a good thing; push it along."</p> + +<p>The girl's mother half rose, but she resumed her seat, for the man was +going away. Her mind was not quiet again, however, until the people were +all in their seats and the curtain had gone up on the second act. At +first she was surprised at the enthusiasm over just such dancing as she +could see any day from the loafers on the street corners down home, and +then, like a good, sensible, humble woman, she came around to the idea +that it was she who had always been wrong in putting too low a value on +really worthy things. So she laughed and applauded with the rest, all +the while trying to quiet something that was tugging at her away down in +her heart.</p> + +<p>When the performance was over she forced her way to Kitty's side, where +she remained in spite of all Thomas's palpable efforts to get her away. +Finally he proposed that they all go to supper at one of the coloured +cafés.</p> + +<p>"You 'll see a lot o' the show people," he said.</p> + +<p>"No, I reckon we 'd bettah go home," said Mrs. Hamilton decidedly. "De +chillen ain't ust to stayin' up all hours o' nights, an' I ain't anxious +fu' 'em to git ust to it."</p> + +<p>She was conscious of a growing dislike for this man who treated her +daughter with such a proprietary air. Joe winced again at "de chillen."</p> + +<p>Thomas bit his lip, and mentally said things that are unfit for +publication. Aloud he said, "Mebbe Miss Kitty 'ud like to go an' have a +little lunch."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, thank you," said the girl; "I 've had a nice time and I don't +care for a thing to eat."</p> + +<p>Joe told himself that Kitty was the biggest fool that it had ever been +his lot to meet, and the disappointed suitor satisfied himself with the +reflection that the girl was green yet, but would get bravely over that.</p> + +<p>He attempted to hold her hand as they parted at the parlour door, but +she drew her fingers out of his clasp and said, "Good-night; thank you," +as if he had been one of her mother's old friends.</p> + +<p>Joe lingered a little longer.</p> + +<p>"Say, that was out o' sight," he said.</p> + +<p>"Think so?" asked the other carelessly.</p> + +<p>"I 'd like to get out with you some time to see the town," the boy went +on eagerly.</p> + +<p>"All right, we 'll go some time. So long."</p> + +<p>"So long."</p> + +<p>Some time. Was it true? Would he really take him out and let him meet +stage people? Joe went to bed with his head in a whirl. He slept little +that night for thinking of his heart's desire.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="IX" name="IX"></a>IX.</h2><h2>HIS HEART'S DESIRE</h2> + + +<p>Whatever else his visit to the theatre may have done for Joe, it +inspired him with a desire to go to work and earn money of his own, to +be independent both of parental help and control, and so be able to +spend as he pleased. With this end in view he set out to hunt for work. +It was a pleasant contrast to his last similar quest, and he felt it +with joy. He was treated everywhere he went with courtesy, even when no +situation was forthcoming. Finally he came upon a man who was willing to +try him for an afternoon. From the moment the boy rightly considered +himself engaged, for he was master of his trade. He began his work with +heart elate. Now he had within his grasp the possibility of being all +that he wanted to be. Now Thomas might take him out at any time and not +be ashamed of him.</p> + +<p>With Thomas, the fact that Joe was working put the boy in an entirely +new light. He decided that now he might be worth cultivating. For a week +or two he had ignored him, and, proceeding upon the principle that if +you give corn to the old hen she will cluck to her chicks, had treated +Mrs. Hamilton with marked deference and kindness. This had been without +success, as both the girl and her mother held themselves politely aloof +from him. He began to see that his hope of winning Kitty's affections +lay, not in courting the older woman but in making a friend of the boy. +So on a certain Saturday night when the Banner Club was to give one of +its smokers, he asked Joe to go with him. Joe was glad to, and they set +out together. Arrived, Thomas left his companion for a few moments while +he attended, as he said, to a little business. What he really did was to +seek out the proprietor of the club and some of its hangers on.</p> + +<p>"I say," he said, "I 've got a friend with me to-night. He 's got some +dough on him. He 's fresh and young and easy."</p> + +<p>"Whew!" exclaimed the proprietor.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he 's a good thing, but push it along kin' o' light at first; he +might get skittish."</p> + +<p>"Thomas, let me fall on your bosom and weep," said a young man who, on +account of his usual expression of innocent gloom, was called Sadness. +"This is what I 've been looking for for a month. My hat was getting +decidedly shabby. Do you think he would stand for a touch on the first +night of our acquaintance?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare? Do you want to frighten him off? Make him believe that +you 've got coin to burn and that it 's an honour to be with you."</p> + +<p>"But, you know, he may expect a glimpse of the gold."</p> + +<p>"A smart man don't need to show nothin'. All he 's got to do is to act."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I 'll act; we 'll all act."</p> + +<p>"Be slow to take a drink from him."</p> + +<p>"Thomas, my boy, you 're an angel. I recognise that more and more every +day, but bid me do anything else but that. That I refuse: it 's against +nature;" and Sadness looked more mournful than ever.</p> + +<p>"Trust old Sadness to do his part," said the portly proprietor; and +Thomas went back to the lamb.</p> + +<p>"Nothin' doin' so early," he said; "let 's go an' have a drink."</p> + +<p>They went, and Thomas ordered.</p> + +<p>"No, no, this is on me," cried Joe, trembling with joy.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw, your money 's counterfeit," said his companion with fine +generosity. "This is on me, I say. Jack, what 'll you have yourself?"</p> + +<p>As they stood at the bar, the men began strolling up one by one. Each in +his turn was introduced to Joe. They were very polite. They treated him +with a pale, dignified, high-minded respect that menaced his pocket-book +and possessions. The proprietor, Mr. Turner, asked him why he had never +been in before. He really seemed much hurt about it, and on being told +that Joe had only been in the city for a couple of weeks expressed +emphatic surprise, even disbelief, and assured the rest that any one +would have taken Mr. Hamilton for an old New Yorker.</p> + +<p>Sadness was introduced last. He bowed to Joe's "Happy to know you, Mr. +Williams."</p> + +<p>"Better known as Sadness," he said, with an expression of deep gloom. "A +distant relative of mine once had a great grief. I have never recovered +from it."</p> + +<p>Joe was not quite sure how to take this; but the others laughed and he +joined them, and then, to cover his own embarrassment, he did what he +thought the only correct and manly thing to do,--he ordered a drink.</p> + +<p>"I don't know as I ought to," said Sadness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come on," his companions called out, "don't be stiff with a +stranger. Make him feel at home."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Hamilton will believe me when I say that I have no intention of +being stiff, but duty is duty. I 've got to go down town to pay a bill, +and if I get too much aboard, it would n't be safe walking around with +money on me."</p> + +<p>"Aw, shut up, Sadness," said Thomas. "My friend Mr. Hamilton 'll feel +hurt if you don't drink with him."</p> + +<p>"I cert'n'y will," was Joe's opportune remark, and he was pleased to see +that it caused the reluctant one to yield.</p> + +<p>They took a drink. There was quite a line of them. Joe asked the +bartender what he would have. The men warmed towards him. They took +several more drinks with him and he was happy. Sadness put his arm about +his shoulder and told him, with tears in his eyes, that he looked like a +cousin of his that had died.</p> + +<p>"Aw, shut up, Sadness!" said some one else. "Be respectable."</p> + +<p>Sadness turned his mournful eyes upon the speaker. "I won't," he +replied. "Being respectable is very nice as a diversion, but it 's +tedious if done steadily." Joe did not quite take this, so he ordered +another drink.</p> + +<p>A group of young fellows came in and passed up the stairs. "Shearing +another lamb?" said one of them significantly.</p> + +<p>"Well, with that gang it will be well done."</p> + +<p>Thomas and Joe left the crowd after a while, and went to the upper +floor, where, in a long, brilliantly lighted room, tables were set out +for drinking-parties. At one end of the room was a piano, and a man sat +at it listlessly strumming some popular air. The proprietor joined them +pretty soon, and steered them to a table opposite the door.</p> + +<p>"Just sit down here, Mr. Hamilton," he said, "and you can see everybody +that comes in. We have lots of nice people here on smoker nights, +especially after the shows are out and the girls come in."</p> + +<p>Joe's heart gave a great leap, and then settled as cold as lead. Of +course, those girls would n't speak to him. But his hopes rose as the +proprietor went on talking to him and to no one else. Mr. Turner always +made a man feel as if he were of some consequence in the world, and men +a good deal older than Joe had been fooled by his manner. He talked to +one in a soft, ingratiating way, giving his whole attention apparently. +He tapped one confidentially on the shoulder, as who should say, "My +dear boy, I have but two friends in the world, and you are both of +them."</p> + +<p>Joe, charmed and pleased, kept his head well. There is a great deal in +heredity, and his father had not been Maurice Oakley's butler for so +many years for nothing.</p> + +<p>The Banner Club was an institution for the lower education of negro +youth. It drew its pupils from every class of people and from every part +of the country. It was composed of all sorts and conditions of men, +educated and uneducated, dishonest and less so, of the good, the bad, +and the--unexposed. Parasites came there to find victims, politicians +for votes, reporters for news, and artists of all kinds for colour and +inspiration. It was the place of assembly for a number of really bright +men, who after days of hard and often unrewarded work came there and +drunk themselves drunk in each other's company, and when they were drunk +talked of the eternal verities.</p> + +<p>The Banner was only one of a kind. It stood to the stranger and the man +and woman without connections for the whole social life. It was a +substitute--poor, it must be confessed--to many youths for the home life +which is so lacking among certain classes in New York.</p> + +<p>Here the rounders congregated, or came and spent the hours until it was +time to go forth to bout or assignation. Here too came sometimes the +curious who wanted to see something of the other side of life. Among +these, white visitors were not infrequent,--those who were young enough +to be fascinated by the bizarre, and those who were old enough to know +that it was all in the game. Mr. Skaggs, of the New York <i>Universe</i>, was +one of the former class and a constant visitor,--he and a "lady friend" +called "Maudie," who had a penchant for dancing to "Rag-time" melodies +as only the "puffessor" of such a club can play them. Of course, the +place was a social cesspool, generating a poisonous miasma and reeking +with the stench of decayed and rotten moralities. There is no defence to +be made for it. But what do you expect when false idealism and fevered +ambition come face to face with catering cupidity?</p> + +<p>It was into this atmosphere that Thomas had introduced the boy Joe, and +he sat there now by his side, firing his mind by pointing out the +different celebrities who came in and telling highly flavoured stories +of their lives or doings. Joe heard things that had never come within +the range of his mind before.</p> + +<p>"Aw, there 's Skaggsy an' Maudie--Maudie 's his girl, y' know, an' he 's +a reporter on the N' Yawk <i>Universe</i>. Fine fellow, Skaggsy."</p> + +<p>Maudie--a portly, voluptuous-looking brunette--left her escort and went +directly to the space by the piano. Here she was soon dancing with one +of the coloured girls who had come in.</p> + +<p>Skaggs started to sit down alone at a table, but Thomas called him, +"Come over here, Skaggsy."</p> + +<p>In the moment that it took the young man to reach them, Joe wondered if +he would ever reach that state when he could call that white man Skaggsy +and the girl Maudie. The new-comer soon set all of that at ease.</p> + +<p>"I want you to know my friend, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Skaggs."</p> + +<p>"Why, how d' ye do, Hamilton? I 'm glad to meet you. Now, look a here; +don't you let old Thomas here string you about me bein' any old 'Mr!' +Skaggs. I 'm Skaggsy to all of my friends. I hope to count you among +'em."</p> + +<p>It was such a supreme moment that Joe could not find words to answer, so +he called for another drink.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," said Skaggsy, "not a bit of it. When I meet my +friends I always reserve to myself the right of ordering the first +drink. Waiter, this is on me. What 'll you have, gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>They got their drinks, and then Skaggsy leaned over confidentially and +began talking.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, Hamilton, there ain't an ounce of prejudice in my body. Do +you believe it?"</p> + +<p>Joe said that he did. Indeed Skaggsy struck one as being aggressively +unprejudiced.</p> + +<p>He went on: "You see, a lot o' fellows say to me, 'What do you want to +go down to that nigger club for?' That 's what they call it,--'nigger +club.' But I say to 'em, 'Gentlemen, at that nigger club, as you choose +to call it, I get more inspiration than I could get at any of the +greater clubs in New York.' I 've often been invited to join some of the +swell clubs here, but I never do it. By Jove! I 'd rather come down here +and fellowship right in with you fellows. I like coloured people, +anyway. It 's natural. You see, my father had a big plantation and owned +lots of slaves,--no offence, of course, but it was the custom of that +time,--and I 've played with little darkies ever since I could +remember."</p> + +<p>It was the same old story that the white who associates with negroes +from volition usually tells to explain his taste.</p> + +<p>The truth about the young reporter was that he was born and reared on a +Vermont farm, where his early life was passed in fighting for his very +subsistence. But this never troubled Skaggsy. He was a monumental liar, +and the saving quality about him was that he calmly believed his own +lies while he was telling them, so no one was hurt, for the deceiver +was as much a victim as the deceived. The boys who knew him best used to +say that when Skaggs got started on one of his debauches of lying, the +Recording Angel always put on an extra clerical force.</p> + +<p>"Now look at Maudie," he went on; "would you believe it that she was of +a fine, rich family, and that the coloured girl she 's dancing with now +used to be her servant? She 's just like me about that. Absolutely no +prejudice."</p> + +<p>Joe was wide-eyed with wonder and admiration, and he could n't +understand the amused expression on Thomas's face, nor why he +surreptitiously kicked him under the table.</p> + +<p>Finally the reporter went his way, and Joe's sponsor explained to him +that he was not to take in what Skaggsy said, and that there had n't +been a word of truth in it. He ended with, "Everybody knows Maudie, and +that coloured girl is Mamie Lacey, and never worked for anybody in her +life. Skaggsy 's a good fellah, all right, but he 's the biggest liar in +N' Yawk."</p> + +<p>The boy was distinctly shocked. He was n't sure but Thomas was jealous +of the attention the white man had shown him and wished to belittle it. +Anyway, he did not thank him for destroying his romance.</p> + +<p>About eleven o'clock, when the people began to drop in from the plays, +the master of ceremonies opened proceedings by saying that "The free +concert would now begin, and he hoped that all present, ladies included, +would act like gentlemen, and not forget the waiter. Mr. Meriweather +will now favour us with the latest coon song, entitled 'Come back to yo' +Baby, Honey.'"</p> + +<p>There was a patter of applause, and a young negro came forward, and in a +strident, music-hall voice, sung or rather recited with many gestures +the ditty. He could n't have been much older than Joe, but already his +face was hard with dissipation and foul knowledge. He gave the song +with all the rank suggestiveness that could be put into it. Joe looked +upon him as a hero. He was followed by a little, brown-skinned fellow +with an immature Vandyke beard and a lisp. He sung his own composition +and was funny; how much funnier than he himself knew or intended, may +not even be hinted at. Then, while an instrumentalist, who seemed to +have a grudge against the piano, was hammering out the opening bars of a +march, Joe's attention was attracted by a woman entering the room, and +from that moment he heard no more of the concert. Even when the master +of ceremonies announced with an air that, by special request, he himself +would sing "Answer,"--the request was his own,--he did not draw the +attention of the boy away from the yellow-skinned divinity who sat at a +near table, drinking whiskey straight.</p> + +<p>She was a small girl, with fluffy dark hair and good features. A tiny +foot peeped out from beneath her rattling silk skirts. She was a +good-looking young woman and daintily made, though her face was no +longer youthful, and one might have wished that with her complexion she +had not run to silk waists in magenta.</p> + +<p>Joe, however, saw no fault in her. She was altogether lovely to him, and +his delight was the more poignant as he recognised in her one of the +girls he had seen on the stage a couple of weeks ago. That being true, +nothing could keep her from being glorious in his eyes,--not even the +grease-paint which adhered in unneat patches to her face, nor her taste +for whiskey in its unreformed state. He gazed at her in ecstasy until +Thomas, turning to see what had attracted him, said with a laugh, "Oh, +it 's Hattie Sterling. Want to meet her?"</p> + +<p>Again the young fellow was dumb. Just then Hattie also noticed his +intent look, and nodded and beckoned to Thomas.</p> + +<p>"Come on," he said, rising.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she did n't ask for me," cried Joe, tremulous and eager.</p> + +<p>His companion went away laughing.</p> + +<p>"Who 's your young friend?" asked Hattie.</p> + +<p>"A fellah from the South."</p> + +<p>"Bring him over here."</p> + +<p>Joe could hardly believe in his own good luck, and his head, which was +getting a bit weak, was near collapsing when his divinity asked him what +he 'd have? He began to protest, until she told the waiter with an air +of authority to make it a little "'skey." Then she asked him for a +cigarette, and began talking to him in a pleasant, soothing way between +puffs.</p> + +<p>When the drinks came, she said to Thomas, "Now, old man, you 've been +awfully nice, but when you get your little drink, you run away like a +good little boy. You 're superfluous."</p> + +<p>Thomas answered, "Well, I like that," but obediently gulped his whiskey +and withdrew, while Joe laughed until the master of ceremonies stood up +and looked sternly at him.</p> + +<p>The concert had long been over and the room was less crowded when Thomas +sauntered back to the pair.</p> + +<p>"Well, good-night," he said. "Guess you can find your way home, Mr. +Hamilton;" and he gave Joe a long wink.</p> + +<p>"Goo'-night," said Joe, woozily, "I be a' ri'. Goo'-night."</p> + +<p>"Make it another 'skey," was Hattie's farewell remark.</p> + +<p class="thoughtbreak">It was late the next morning when Joe got home. He had a headache and a +sense of triumph that not even his illness and his mother's reproof +could subdue.</p> + +<p>He had promised Hattie to come often to the club.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="X" name="X"></a>X.</h2><h2>A VISITOR FROM HOME</h2> + + +<p>Mrs. Hamilton began to question very seriously whether she had done the +best thing in coming to New York as she saw her son staying away more +and more and growing always farther away from her and his sister. Had +she known how and where he spent his evenings, she would have had even +greater cause to question the wisdom of their trip. She knew that +although he worked he never had any money for the house, and she foresaw +the time when the little they had would no longer suffice for Kitty and +her. Realising this, she herself set out to find something to do.</p> + +<p>It was a hard matter, for wherever she went seeking employment, it was +always for her and her daughter, for the more she saw of Mrs. Jones, the +less she thought it well to leave the girl under her influence. Mrs. +Hamilton was not a keen woman, but she had a mother's intuitions, and +she saw a subtle change in her daughter. At first the girl grew wistful +and then impatient and rebellious. She complained that Joe was away from +them so much enjoying himself, while she had to be housed up like a +prisoner. She had receded from her dignified position, and twice of an +evening had gone out for a car-ride with Thomas; but as that gentleman +never included the mother in his invitation, she decided that her +daughter should go no more, and she begged Joe to take his sister out +sometimes instead. He demurred at first, for he now numbered among his +city acquirements a fine contempt for his woman relatives. Finally, +however, he consented, and took Kit once to the theatre and once for a +ride. Each time he left her in the care of Thomas as soon as they were +out of the house, while he went to find or to wait for his dear Hattie. +But his mother did not know all this, and Kit did not tell her. The +quick poison of the unreal life about her had already begun to affect +her character. She had grown secretive and sly. The innocent longing +which in a burst of enthusiasm she had expressed that first night at the +theatre was growing into a real ambition with her, and she dropped the +simple old songs she knew to practise the detestable coon ditties which +the stage demanded.</p> + +<p>She showed no particular pleasure when her mother found the sort of +place they wanted, but went to work with her in sullen silence. Mrs. +Hamilton could not understand it all, and many a night she wept and +prayed over the change in this child of her heart. There were times when +she felt that there was nothing left to work or fight for. The letters +from Berry in prison became fewer and fewer. He was sinking into the +dull, dead routine of his life. Her own letters to him fell off. It was +hard getting the children to write. They did not want to be bothered, +and she could not write for herself. So in the weeks and months that +followed she drifted farther away from her children and husband and all +the traditions of her life.</p> + +<p>After Joe's first night at the Banner Club he had kept his promise to +Hattie Sterling and had gone often to meet her. She had taught him much, +because it was to her advantage to do so. His greenness had dropped from +him like a garment, but no amount of sophistication could make him deem +the woman less perfect. He knew that she was much older than he, but he +only took this fact as an additional sign of his prowess in having won +her. He was proud of himself when he went behind the scenes at the +theatre or waited for her at the stage door and bore her off under the +admiring eyes of a crowd of gapers. And Hattie? She liked him in a +half-contemptuous, half-amused way. He was a good-looking boy and made +money enough, as she expressed it, to show her a good time, so she was +willing to overlook his weakness and his callow vanity.</p> + +<p>"Look here," she said to him one day, "I guess you 'll have to be +moving. There 's a young lady been inquiring for you to-day, and I won't +stand for that."</p> + +<p>He looked at her, startled for a moment, until he saw the laughter in +her eyes. Then he caught her and kissed her. "What 're you givin' me?" +he said.</p> + +<p>"It 's a straight tip, that 's what."</p> + +<p>"Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"It 's a girl named Minty Brown from your home."</p> + +<p>His face turned brick-red with fear and shame. "Minty Brown!" he +stammered.</p> + +<p>Had that girl told all and undone him? But Hattie was going on about her +work and evidently knew nothing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you need n't pretend you don't know her," she went on banteringly. +"She says you were great friends down South, so I 've invited her to +supper. She wants to see you."</p> + +<p>"To supper!" he thought. Was she mocking him? Was she restraining her +scorn of him only to make his humiliation the greater after a while? He +looked at her, but there was no suspicion of malice in her face, and he +took hope.</p> + +<p>"Well, I 'd like to see old Minty," he said. "It 's been many a long day +since I 've seen her."</p> + +<p>All that afternoon, after going to the barber-shop, Joe was driven by a +tempest of conflicting emotions. If Minty Brown had not told his story, +why not? Would she yet tell, and if she did, what would happen? He +tortured himself by questioning if Hattie would cast him off. At the +very thought his hand trembled, and the man in the chair asked him if he +had n't been drinking.</p> + +<p>When he met Minty in the evening, however, the first glance at her +reassured him. Her face was wreathed in smiles as she came forward and +held out her hand.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Joe Hamilton," she exclaimed, "if I ain't right-down glad +to see you! How are you?"</p> + +<p>"I 'm middlin', Minty. How 's yourself?" He was so happy that he could +n't let go her hand.</p> + +<p>"An' jes' look at the boy! Ef he ain't got the impidence to be waihin' a +mustache too. You must 'a' been lettin' the cats lick yo' upper lip. Did +n't expect to see me in New York, did you?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. What you doin' here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I got a gent'man friend what 's a porter, an' his run 's been +changed so that he comes hyeah, an' he told me, if I wanted to come he +'d bring me thoo fur a visit, so, you see, hyeah I am. I allus was +mighty anxious to see this hyeah town. But tell me, how 's Kit an' yo' +ma?"</p> + +<p>"They 're both right well." He had forgotten them and their scorn of +Minty.</p> + +<p>"Whaih do you live? I 'm comin' roun' to see 'em."</p> + +<p>He hesitated for a moment. He knew how his mother, if not Kit, would +receive her, and yet he dared not anger this woman, who had his fate in +the hollow of her hand.</p> + +<p>She saw his hesitation and spoke up. "Oh, that 's all right. Let +by-gones be by-gones. You know I ain't the kin' o' person that holds a +grudge ag'in anybody."</p> + +<p>"That 's right, Minty, that 's right," he said, and gave her his +mother's address. Then he hastened home to prepare the way for Minty's +coming. Joe had no doubt but that his mother would see the matter quite +as he saw it, and be willing to temporise with Minty; but he had +reckoned without his host. Mrs. Hamilton might make certain concessions +to strangers on the score of expediency, but she absolutely refused to +yield one iota of her dignity to one whom she had known so long as an +inferior.</p> + +<p>"But don't you see what she can do for us, ma? She knows people that I +know, and she can ruin me with them."</p> + +<p>"I ain't never bowed my haid to Minty Brown an' I ain't a-goin' to do +it now," was his mother's only reply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ma," Kitty put in, "you don't want to get talked about up here, do +you?"</p> + +<p>"We 'd jes' as well be talked about fu' somep'n we did n't do as fu' +somep'n we did do, an' it would n' be long befo' we 'd come to dat if we +made frien's wid dat Brown gal. I ain't a-goin' to do it. I 'm ashamed +o' you, Kitty, fu' wantin' me to."</p> + +<p>The girl began to cry, while her brother walked the floor angrily.</p> + +<p>"You 'll see what 'll happen," he cried; "you 'll see."</p> + +<p>Fannie looked at her son, and she seemed to see him more clearly than +she had ever seen him before,--his foppery, his meanness, his cowardice.</p> + +<p>"Well," she answered with a sigh, "it can't be no wuss den what 's +already happened."</p> + +<p>"You 'll see, you 'll see," the boy reiterated.</p> + +<p>Minty Brown allowed no wind of thought to cool the fire of her +determination. She left Hattie Sterling's soon after Joe, and he was +still walking the floor and uttering dire forebodings when she rang the +bell below and asked for the Hamiltons.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jones ushered her into her fearfully upholstered parlour, and then +puffed up stairs to tell her lodgers that there was a friend there from +the South who wanted to see them.</p> + +<p>"Tell huh," said Mrs. Hamilton, "dat dey ain't no one hyeah wants to see +huh."</p> + +<p>"No, no," Kitty broke in.</p> + +<p>"Heish," said her mother; "I 'm goin' to boss you a little while yit."</p> + +<p>"Why, I don't understan' you, Mis' Hamilton," puffed Mrs. Jones. "She 's +a nice-lookin' lady, an' she said she knowed you at home."</p> + +<p>"All you got to do is to tell dat ooman jes' what I say."</p> + +<p>Minty Brown downstairs had heard the little colloquy, and, perceiving +that something was amiss, had come to the stairs to listen. Now her +voice, striving hard to be condescending and sweet, but growing harsh +with anger, floated up from below:</p> + +<p>"Oh, nevah min', lady, I ain't anxious to see 'em. I jest called out o' +pity, but I reckon dey 'shamed to see me 'cause de ol' man 's in +penitentiary an' dey was run out o' town."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jones gasped, and then turned and went hastily downstairs.</p> + +<p>Kit burst out crying afresh, and Joe walked the floor muttering beneath +his breath, while the mother sat grimly watching the outcome. Finally +they heard Mrs. Jones' step once more on the stairs. She came in without +knocking, and her manner was distinctly unpleasant.</p> + +<p>"Mis' Hamilton," she said, "I 've had a talk with the lady downstairs, +an' she 's tol' me everything. I 'd be glad if you 'd let me have my +rooms as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>"So you goin' to put me out on de wo'd of a stranger?"</p> + +<p>"I 'm kin' o' sorry, but everybody in the house heard what Mis' Brown +said, an' it 'll soon be all over town, an' that 'ud ruin the reputation +of my house."</p> + +<p>"I reckon all dat kin be 'splained."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I don't know that anybody kin 'splain your daughter allus +being with Mr. Thomas, who ain't even divo'ced from his wife." She +flashed a vindictive glance at the girl, who turned deadly pale and +dropped her head in her hands.</p> + +<p>"You daih to say dat, Mis' Jones, you dat fust interduced my gal to dat +man and got huh to go out wid him? I reckon you 'd bettah go now."</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Jones looked at Fannie's face and obeyed.</p> + +<p>As soon as the woman's back was turned, Joe burst out, "There, there! +see what you 've done with your damned foolishness."</p> + +<p>Fannie turned on him like a tigress. "Don't you cuss hyeah befo' me; I +ain't nevah brung you up to it, an' I won't stan' it. Go to dem whaih +you larned it, an whaih de wo'ds soun' sweet." The boy started to +speak, but she checked him. "Don't you daih to cuss ag'in or befo' Gawd +dey 'll be somep'n fu' one o' dis fambly to be rottin' in jail fu'!"</p> + +<p>The boy was cowed by his mother's manner. He was gathering his few +belongings in a bundle.</p> + +<p>"I ain't goin' to cuss," he said sullenly, "I 'm goin' out o' your way."</p> + +<p>"Oh, go on," she said, "go on. It 's been a long time sence you been my +son. You on yo' way to hell, an' you is been fu' lo dese many days."</p> + +<p>Joe got out of the house as soon as possible. He did not speak to Kit +nor look at his mother. He felt like a cur, because he knew deep down in +his heart that he had only been waiting for some excuse to take this +step.</p> + +<p>As he slammed the door behind him, his mother flung herself down by +Kit's side and mingled her tears with her daughter's. But Kit did not +raise her head.</p> + +<p>"Dey ain't nothin' lef' but you now, Kit;" but the girl did not speak, +she only shook with hard sobs.</p> + +<p>Then her mother raised her head and almost screamed, "My Gawd, not you, +Kit!" The girl rose, and then dropped unconscious in her mother's arms.</p> + +<p>Joe took his clothes to a lodging-house that he knew of, and then went +to the club to drink himself up to the point of going to see Hattie +after the show.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="XI" name="XI"></a>XI.</h2><h2>BROKEN HOPES</h2> + + +<p>What Joe Hamilton lacked more than anything else in the world was some +one to kick him. Many a man who might have lived decently and become a +fairly respectable citizen has gone to the dogs for the want of some one +to administer a good resounding kick at the right time. It is corrective +and clarifying.</p> + +<p>Joe needed especially its clarifying property, for though he knew +himself a cur, he went away from his mother's house feeling himself +somehow aggrieved, and the feeling grew upon him the more he thought of +it. His mother had ruined his chance in life, and he could never hold up +his head again. Yes, he had heard that several of the fellows at the +club had shady reputations, but surely to be the son of a thief or a +supposed thief was not like being the criminal himself.</p> + +<p>At the Banner he took a seat by himself, and, ordering a cocktail, sat +glowering at the few other lonely members who had happened to drop in. +There were not many of them, and the contagion of unsociability had +taken possession of the house. The people sat scattered around at +different tables, perfectly unmindful of the bartender, who cursed them +under his breath for not "getting together."</p> + +<p>Joe's mind was filled with bitter thoughts. How long had he been away +from home? he asked himself. Nearly a year. Nearly a year passed in New +York, and he had come to be what he so much desired,--a part of its fast +life,--and now in a moment an old woman's stubbornness had destroyed all +that he had builded.</p> + +<p>What would Thomas say when he heard it? What would the other fellows +think? And Hattie? It was plain that she would never notice him again. +He had no doubt but that the malice of Minty Brown would prompt her to +seek out all of his friends and make the story known. Why had he not +tried to placate her by disavowing sympathy with his mother? He would +have had no compunction about doing so, but he had thought of it too +late. He sat brooding over his trouble until the bartender called with +respectful sarcasm to ask if he wanted to lease the glass he had.</p> + +<p>He gave back a silly laugh, gulped the rest of the liquor down, and was +ordering another when Sadness came in. He came up directly to Joe and +sat down beside him. "Mr. Hamilton says 'Make it two, Jack,'" he said +with easy familiarity. "Well, what 's the matter, old man? You 're +looking glum."</p> + +<p>"I feel glum."</p> + +<p>"The divine Hattie has n't been cutting any capers, has she? The dear +old girl has n't been getting hysterical at her age? Let us hope not."</p> + +<p>Joe glared at him. Why in the devil should this fellow be so sadly gay +when he was weighted down with sorrow and shame and disgust?</p> + +<p>"Come, come now, Hamilton, if you 're sore because I invited myself to +take a drink with you, I 'll withdraw the order. I know the heroic thing +to say is that I 'll pay for the drinks myself, but I can't screw my +courage up to the point of doing so unnatural a thing."</p> + +<p>Young Hamilton hastened to protest. "Oh, I know you fellows now well +enough to know how many drinks to pay for. It ain't that."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, out with it. What is it? Have n't been up to anything, have +you?"</p> + +<p>The desire came to Joe to tell this man the whole truth, just what was +the matter, and so to relieve his heart. On the impulse he did. If he +had expected much from Sadness he was disappointed, for not a muscle of +the man's face changed during the entire recital.</p> + +<p>When it was over, he looked at his companion critically through a wreath +of smoke. Then he said: "For a fellow who has had for a full year the +advantage of the education of the New York clubs, you are strangely +young. Let me see, you are nineteen or twenty now--yes. Well, that +perhaps accounts for it. It 's a pity you were n't born older. It 's a +pity most men are n't. They would n't have to take so much time and lose +so many good things learning. Now, Mr. Hamilton, let me tell you, and +you will pardon me for it, that you are a fool. Your case is n't half as +bad as that of nine-tenths of the fellows that hang around here. Now, +for instance, my father was hung."</p> + +<p>Joe started and gave a gasp of horror.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, but it was done with a very good rope and by the best citizens +of Texas, so it seems that I really ought to be very grateful to them +for the distinction they conferred upon my family, but I am not. I am +ungratefully sad. A man must be very high or very low to take the +sensible view of life that keeps him from being sad. I must confess that +I have aspired to the depths without ever being fully able to reach +them.</p> + +<p>"Now look around a bit. See that little girl over there? That 's Viola. +Two years ago she wrenched up an iron stool from the floor of a +lunch-room, and killed another woman with it. She 's nineteen,--just +about your age, by the way. Well, she had friends with a certain amount +of pull. She got out of it, and no one thinks the worse of Viola. You +see, Hamilton, in this life we are all suffering from fever, and no one +edges away from the other because he finds him a little warm. It 's +dangerous when you 're not used to it; but once you go through the +parching process, you become inoculated against further contagion. Now, +there 's Barney over there, as decent a fellow as I know; but he has +been indicted twice for pocket-picking. A half-dozen fellows whom you +meet here every night have killed their man. Others have done worse +things for which you respect them less. Poor Wallace, who is just coming +in, and who looks like a jaunty ragpicker, came here about six months +ago with about two thousand dollars, the proceeds from the sale of a +house his father had left him. He 'll sleep in one of the club chairs +to-night, and not from choice. He spent his two thousand learning. But, +after all, it was a good investment. It was like buying an annuity. He +begins to know already how to live on others as they have lived on him. +The plucked bird's beak is sharpened for other's feathers. From now on +Wallace will live, eat, drink, and sleep at the expense of others, and +will forget to mourn his lost money. He will go on this way until, +broken and useless, the poor-house or the potter's field gets him. Oh, +it 's a fine, rich life, my lad. I know you 'll like it. I said you +would the first time I saw you. It has plenty of stir in it, and a man +never gets lonesome. Only the rich are lonesome. It 's only the +independent who depend upon others."</p> + +<p>Sadness laughed a peculiar laugh, and there was a look in his terribly +bright eyes that made Joe creep. If he could only have understood all +that the man was saying to him, he might even yet have turned back. But +he did n't. He ordered another drink. The only effect that the talk of +Sadness had upon him was to make him feel wonderfully "in it." It gave +him a false bravery, and he mentally told himself that now he would not +be afraid to face Hattie.</p> + +<p>He put out his hand to Sadness with a knowing look. "Thanks, Sadness," +he said, "you 've helped me lots."</p> + +<p>Sadness brushed the proffered hand away and sprung up. "You lie," he +cried, "I have n't; I was only fool enough to try;" and he turned +hastily away from the table.</p> + +<p>Joe looked surprised at first, and then laughed at his friend's +retreating form. "Poor old fellow," he said, "drunk again. Must have had +something before he came in."</p> + +<p>There was not a lie in all that Sadness had said either as to their +crime or their condition. He belonged to a peculiar class,--one that +grows larger and larger each year in New York and which has imitators in +every large city in this country. It is a set which lives, like the +leech, upon the blood of others,--that draws its life from the veins of +foolish men and immoral women, that prides itself upon its well-dressed +idleness and has no shame in its voluntary pauperism. Each member of the +class knows every other, his methods and his limitations, and their +loyalty one to another makes of them a great hulking, fashionably +uniformed fraternity of indolence. Some play the races a few months of +the year; others, quite as intermittently, gamble at "shoestring" +politics, and waver from party to party as time or their interests seem +to dictate. But mostly they are like the lilies of the field.</p> + +<p>It was into this set that Sadness had sarcastically invited Joe, and +Joe felt honoured. He found that all of his former feelings had been +silly and quite out of place; that all he had learned in his earlier +years was false. It was very plain to him now that to want a good +reputation was the sign of unpardonable immaturity, and that dishonour +was the only real thing worth while. It made him feel better.</p> + +<p>He was just rising bravely to swagger out to the theatre when Minty +Brown came in with one of the club-men he knew. He bowed and smiled, but +she appeared not to notice him at first, and when she did she nudged her +companion and laughed.</p> + +<p>Suddenly his little courage began to ooze out, and he knew what she must +be saying to the fellow at her side, for he looked over at him and +grinned. Where now was the philosophy of Sadness? Evidently Minty had +not been brought under its educating influences, and thought about the +whole matter in the old, ignorant way. He began to think of it too. +Somehow old teachings and old traditions have an annoying way of coming +back upon us in the critical moments of life, although one has long ago +recognised how much truer and better some newer ways of thinking are. +But Joe would not allow Minty to shatter his dreams by bringing up these +old notions. She must be instructed.</p> + +<p>He rose and went over to her table.</p> + +<p>"Why, Minty," he said, offering his hand, "you ain't mad at me, are +you?"</p> + +<p>"Go on away f'om hyeah," she said angrily; "I don't want none o' +thievin' Berry Hamilton's fambly to speak to me."</p> + +<p>"Why, you were all right this evening."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but jest out o' pity, an' you was nice 'cause you was afraid I 'd +tell on you. Go on now."</p> + +<p>"Go on now," said Minty's young man; and he looked menacing.</p> + +<p>Joe, what little self-respect he had gone, slunk out of the room and +needed several whiskeys in a neighbouring saloon to give him courage to +go to the theatre and wait for Hattie, who was playing in vaudeville +houses pending the opening of her company.</p> + +<p>The closing act was just over when he reached the stage door. He was +there but a short time, when Hattie tripped out and took his arm. Her +face was bright and smiling, and there was no suggestion of disgust in +the dancing eyes she turned up to him. Evidently she had not heard, but +the thought gave him no particular pleasure, as it left him in suspense +as to how she would act when she should hear.</p> + +<p>"Let 's go somewhere and get some supper," she said; "I 'm as hungry as +I can be. What are you looking so cut up about?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I ain't feelin' so very good."</p> + +<p>"I hope you ain't lettin' that long-tongued Brown woman bother your +head, are you?"</p> + +<p>His heart seemed to stand still. She did know, then.</p> + +<p>"Do you know all about it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course I do. You might know she 'd come to me first with her +story."</p> + +<p>"And you still keep on speaking to me?"</p> + +<p>"Now look here, Joe, if you 've been drinking, I 'll forgive you; if you +ain't, you go on and leave me. Say, what do you take me for? Do you +think I 'd throw down a friend because somebody else talked about him? +Well, you don't know Hat Sterling. When Minty told me that story, she +was back in my dressing-room, and I sent her out o' there a-flying, and +with a tongue-lashing that she won't forget for a month o' Sundays."</p> + +<p>"I reckon that was the reason she jumped on me so hard at the club." He +chuckled. He had taken heart again. All that Sadness had said was true, +after all, and people thought no less of him. His joy was unbounded.</p> + +<p>"So she jumped on you hard, did she? The cat!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she did n't say a thing to me."</p> + +<p>"Well, Joe, it 's just like this. I ain't an angel, you know that, but I +do try to be square, and whenever I find a friend of mine down on his +luck, in his pocket-book or his feelings, why, I give him my flipper. +Why, old chap, I believe I like you better for the stiff upper lip you +'ve been keeping under all this."</p> + +<p>"Why, Hattie," he broke out, unable any longer to control himself, "you +'re--you 're----"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I 'm just plain Hat Sterling, who won't throw down her friends. Now +come on and get something to eat. If that thing is at the club, we 'll +go there and show her just how much her talk amounted to. She thinks she +'s the whole game, but I can spot her and then show her that she ain't +one, two, three."</p> + +<p>When they reached the Banner, they found Minty still there. She tried on +the two the same tactics that she had employed so successfully upon Joe +alone. She nudged her companion and tittered. But she had another +person to deal with. Hattie Sterling stared at her coldly and +indifferently, and passed on by her to a seat. Joe proceeded to order +supper and other things in the nonchalant way that the woman had +enjoined upon him. Minty began to feel distinctly uncomfortable, but it +was her business not to be beaten. She laughed outright. Hattie did not +seem to hear her. She was beckoning Sadness to her side. He came and sat +down.</p> + +<p>"Now look here," she said, "you can't have any supper because you have +n't reached the stage of magnificent hunger to make a meal palatable to +you. You 've got so used to being nearly starved that a meal don't taste +good to you under any other circumstances. You 're in on the drinks, +though. Your thirst is always available.--Jack," she called down the +long room to the bartender, "make it three.--Lean over here, I want to +talk to you. See that woman over there by the wall? No, not that +one,--the big light woman with Griggs. Well, she 's come here with a +story trying to throw Joe down, and I want you to help me do her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that 's the one that upset our young friend, is it?" said Sadness, +turning his mournful eyes upon Minty.</p> + +<p>"That 's her. So you know about it, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I 'll help do her. She must n't touch one of the fraternity, +you know." He kept his eyes fixed upon the outsider until she squirmed. +She could not at all understand this serious conversation directed at +her. She wondered if she had gone too far and if they contemplated +putting her out. It made her uneasy.</p> + +<p>Now, this same Miss Sterling had the faculty of attracting a good deal +of attention when she wished to. She brought it into play to-night, and +in ten minutes, aided by Sadness, she had a crowd of jolly people about +her table. When, as she would have expressed it, "everything was going +fat," she suddenly paused and, turning her eyes full upon Minty, said in +a voice loud enough for all to hear,--</p> + +<p>"Say, boys, you 've heard that story about Joe, have n't you?"</p> + +<p>They had.</p> + +<p>"Well, that 's the one that told it; she 's come here to try to throw +him and me down. Is she going to do it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess not!" was the rousing reply, and every face turned +towards the now frightened Minty. She rose hastily and, getting her +skirts together, fled from the room, followed more leisurely by the +crestfallen Griggs. Hattie's laugh and "Thank you, fellows," followed +her out.</p> + +<p class="thoughtbreak">Matters were less easy for Joe's mother and sister than they were for +him. A week or more after this, Kitty found him and told him that +Minty's story had reached their employers and that they were out of +work.</p> + +<p>"You see, Joe," she said sadly, "we 've took a flat since we moved from +Mis' Jones', and we had to furnish it. We 've got one lodger, a +race-horse man, an' he 's mighty nice to ma an' me, but that ain't +enough. Now we 've got to do something."</p> + +<p>Joe was so smitten with sorrow that he gave her a dollar and promised to +speak about the matter to a friend of his.</p> + +<p>He did speak about it to Hattie.</p> + +<p>"You 've told me once or twice that your sister could sing. Bring her +down here to me, and if she can do anything, I 'll get her a place on +the stage," was Hattie's answer.</p> + +<p>When Kitty heard it she was radiant, but her mother only shook her head +and said, "De las' hope, de las' hope."</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="XII" name="XII"></a>XII.</h2><h2>"ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE"</h2> + + +<p>Kitty proved herself Joe's sister by falling desperately in love with +Hattie Sterling the first time they met. The actress was very gracious +to her, and called her "child" in a pretty, patronising way, and patted +her on the cheek.</p> + +<p>"It 's a shame that Joe has n't brought you around before. We 've been +good friends for quite some time."</p> + +<p>"He told me you an' him was right good friends."</p> + +<p>Already Joe took on a new importance in his sister's eyes. He must be +quite a man, she thought, to be the friend of such a person as Miss +Sterling.</p> + +<p>"So you think you want to go on the stage, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, 'm, I thought it might be right nice for me if I could."</p> + +<p>"Joe, go out and get some beer for us, and then I 'll hear your sister +sing."</p> + +<p>Miss Sterling talked as if she were a manager and had only to snap her +fingers to be obeyed. When Joe came back with the beer, Kitty drank a +glass. She did not like it, but she would not offend her hostess. After +this she sang, and Miss Sterling applauded her generously, although the +young girl's nervousness kept her from doing her best. The encouragement +helped her, and she did better as she became more at home.</p> + +<p>"Why, child, you 've got a good voice. And, Joe, you 've been keeping +her shut up all this time. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."</p> + +<p>The young man had little to say. He had brought Kitty almost under a +protest, because he had no confidence in her ability and thought that +his "girl" would disillusion her. It did not please him now to find his +sister so fully under the limelight and himself "up stage."</p> + +<p>Kitty was quite in a flutter of delight; not so much with the idea of +working as with the glamour of the work she might be allowed to do.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, now," Hattie Sterling pursued, throwing a brightly +stockinged foot upon a chair, "your voice is too good for the chorus. +Gi' me a cigarette, Joe. Have one, Kitty?--I 'm goin' to call you Kitty. +It 's nice and homelike, and then we 've got to be great chums, you +know."</p> + +<p>Kitty, unwilling to refuse anything from the sorceress, took her +cigarette and lighted it, but a few puffs set her off coughing.</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut, Kitty, child, don't do it if you ain't used to it. You 'll +learn soon enough."</p> + +<p>Joe wanted to kick his sister for having tried so delicate an art and +failed, for he had not yet lost all of his awe of Hattie.</p> + +<p>"Now, what I was going to say," the lady resumed after several +contemplative puffs, "is that you 'll have to begin in the chorus any +way and work your way up. It would n't take long for you, with your +looks and voice, to put one of the 'up and ups' out o' the business. +Only hope it won't be me. I 've had people I 've helped try to do it +often enough."</p> + +<p>She gave a laugh that had just a touch of bitterness in it, for she +began to recognise that although she had been on the stage only a short +time, she was no longer the all-conquering Hattie Sterling, in the first +freshness of her youth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I would n't want to push anybody out," Kit expostulated.</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind, you 'll soon get bravely over that feeling, and even if +you did n't it would n't matter much. The thing has to happen. Somebody +'s got to go down. We don't last long in this life: it soon wears us +out, and when we 're worn out and sung out, danced out and played out, +the manager has no further use for us; so he reduces us to the ranks or +kicks us out entirely."</p> + +<p>Joe here thought it time for him to put in a word. "Get out, Hat," he +said contemptuously; "you 're good for a dozen years yet."</p> + +<p>She did n't deign to notice him, save so far as a sniff goes.</p> + +<p>"Don't you let what I say scare you, though, Kitty. You 've got a good +chance, and maybe you 'll have more sense than I 've got, and at least +save money--while you 're in it. But let 's get off that. It makes me +sick. All you 've got to do is to come to the opera-house to-morrow and +I 'll introduce you to the manager. He 's a fool, but I think we can +make him do something for you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, I 'll be around to-morrow, sure."</p> + +<p>"Better come about ten o'clock. There 's a rehearsal to-morrow, and you +'ll find him there. Of course, he 'll be pretty rough, he always is at +rehearsals, but he 'll take to you if he thinks there 's anything in you +and he can get it out."</p> + +<p>Kitty felt herself dismissed and rose to go. Joe did not rise.</p> + +<p>"I 'll see you later, Kit," he said; "I ain't goin' just yet. Say," he +added, when his sister was gone, "you 're a hot one. What do you want to +give her all that con for? She 'll never get in."</p> + +<p>"Joe," said Hattie, "don't you get awful tired of being a jackass? +Sometimes I want to kiss you, and sometimes I feel as if I had to kick +you. I 'll compromise with you now by letting you bring me some more +beer. This got all stale while your sister was here. I saw she did n't +like it, and so I would n't drink any more for fear she 'd try to keep +up with me."</p> + +<p>"Kit is a good deal of a jay yet," Joe remarked wisely.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, this world is full of jays. Lots of 'em have seen enough to +make 'em wise, but they 're still jays, and don't know it. That 's the +worst of it. They go around thinking they 're it, when they ain't even +in the game. Go on and get the beer."</p> + +<p>And Joe went, feeling vaguely that he had been sat upon.</p> + +<p>Kit flew home with joyous heart to tell her mother of her good +prospects. She burst into the room, crying, "Oh, ma, ma, Miss Hattie +thinks I 'll do to go on the stage. Ain't it grand?"</p> + +<p>She did not meet with the expected warmth of response from her mother.</p> + +<p>"I do' know as it 'll be so gran'. F'om what I see of dem stage people +dey don't seem to 'mount to much. De way dem gals shows demse'ves is +right down bad to me. Is you goin' to dress lak dem we seen dat night?"</p> + +<p>Kit hung her head.</p> + +<p>"I guess I 'll have to."</p> + +<p>"Well, ef you have to, I 'd ruther see you daid any day. Oh, Kit, my +little gal, don't do it, don't do it. Don't you go down lak yo' brothah +Joe. Joe 's gone."</p> + +<p>"Why, ma, you don't understand. Joe 's somebody now. You ought to 've +heard how Miss Hattie talked about him. She said he 's been her friend +for a long while."</p> + +<p>"Her frien', yes, an' his own inimy. You need n' pattern aftah dat gal, +Kit. She ruint Joe, an' she 's aftah you now."</p> + +<p>"But nowadays everybody thinks stage people respectable up here."</p> + +<p>"Maybe I 'm ol'-fashioned, but I can't believe in any ooman's ladyship +when she shows herse'f lak dem gals does. Oh, Kit, don't do it. Ain't +you seen enough? Don't you know enough already to stay away f'om dese +hyeah people? Dey don't want nothin' but to pull you down an' den laugh +at you w'en you 's dragged in de dust."</p> + +<p>"You must n't feel that away, ma. I 'm doin' it to help you."</p> + +<p>"I do' want no sich help. I 'd ruther starve."</p> + +<p>Kit did not reply, but there was no yielding in her manner.</p> + +<p>"Kit," her mother went on, "dey 's somep'n I ain't nevah tol' you dat I +'m goin' to tell you now. Mistah Gibson ust to come to Mis' Jones's lots +to see me befo' we moved hyeah, an' he 's been talkin' 'bout a good +many things to me." She hesitated. "He say dat I ain't noways ma'ied to +my po' husban', dat a pen'tentiary sentence is de same as a divo'ce, an' +if Be'y should live to git out, we 'd have to ma'y ag'in. I would n't +min' dat, Kit, but he say dat at Be'y's age dey ain't much chanst of his +livin' to git out, an' hyeah I 'll live all dis time alone, an' den have +no one to tek keer o' me w'en I git ol'. He wants me to ma'y him, Kit. +Kit, I love yo' fathah; he 's my only one. But Joe, he 's gone, an' ef +yo go, befo' Gawd I 'll tell Tawm Gibson yes."</p> + +<p>The mother looked up to see just what effect her plea would have on her +daughter. She hoped that what she said would have the desired result. +But the girl turned around from fixing her neck-ribbon before the glass, +her face radiant. "Why, it 'll be splendid. He 's such a nice man, an' +race-horse men 'most always have money. Why don't you marry him, ma? +Then I 'd feel that you was safe an' settled, an' that you would n't be +lonesome when the show was out of town."</p> + +<p>"You want me to ma'y him an' desert yo' po' pa?"</p> + +<p>"I guess what he says is right, ma. I don't reckon we 'll ever see pa +again an' you got to do something. You got to live for yourself now."</p> + +<p>Her mother dropped her head in her hands. "All right," she said, "I 'll +do it; I 'll ma'y him. I might as well go de way both my chillen 's +gone. Po' Be'y, po' Be'y. Ef you evah do come out, Gawd he'p you to baih +what you 'll fin'." And Mrs. Hamilton rose and tottered from the room, +as if the old age she anticipated had already come upon her.</p> + +<p>Kit stood looking after her, fear and grief in her eyes. "Poor ma," she +said, "an' poor pa. But I know, an' I know it 's for the best."</p> + +<p>On the next morning she was up early and practising hard for her +interview with the managing star of "Martin's Blackbirds."</p> + +<p>When she arrived at the theatre, Hattie Sterling met her with frank +friendliness.</p> + +<p>"I 'm glad you came early, Kitty," she remarked, "for maybe you can get +a chance to talk with Martin before he begins rehearsal and gets all +worked up. He 'll be a little less like a bear then. But even if you +don't see him before then, wait, and don't get scared if he tries to +bluff you. His bark is a good deal worse than his bite."</p> + +<p>When Mr. Martin came in that morning, he had other ideas than that of +seeing applicants for places. His show must begin in two weeks, and it +was advertised to be larger and better than ever before, when really +nothing at all had been done for it. The promise of this advertisement +must be fulfilled. Mr. Martin was late, and was out of humour with every +one else on account of it. He came in hurried, fierce, and important.</p> + +<p>"Mornin', Mr. Smith, mornin', Mrs. Jones. Ha, ladies and gentlemen, all +here?"</p> + +<p>He shot every word out of his mouth as if the after-taste of it were +unpleasant to him. He walked among the chorus like an angry king among +his vassals, and his glance was a flash of insolent fire. From his head +to his feet he was the very epitome of self-sufficient, brutal conceit.</p> + +<p>Kitty trembled as she noted the hush that fell on the people at his +entrance. She felt like rushing out of the room. She could never face +this terrible man. She trembled more as she found his eyes fixed upon +her.</p> + +<p>"Who 's that?" he asked, disregarding her, as if she had been a stick or +a stone.</p> + +<p>"Well, don't snap her head off. It 's a girl friend of mine that wants a +place," said Hattie. She was the only one who would brave Martin.</p> + +<p>"Humph. Let her wait. I ain't got no time to hear any one now. Get +yourselves in line, you all who are on to that first chorus, while I 'm +getting into my sweat-shirt."</p> + +<p>He disappeared behind a screen, whence he emerged arrayed, or only half +arrayed, in a thick absorbing shirt and a thin pair of woollen trousers. +Then the work began. The man was indefatigable. He was like the spirit +of energy. He was in every place about the stage at once, leading the +chorus, showing them steps, twisting some awkward girl into shape, +shouting, gesticulating, abusing the pianist.</p> + +<p>"Now, now," he would shout, "the left foot on that beat. Bah, bah, stop! +You walk like a lot of tin soldiers. Are your joints rusty? Do you want +oil? Look here, Taylor, if I did n't know you, I 'd take you for a +truck. Pick up your feet, open your mouths, and move, move, move! Oh!" +and he would drop his head in despair. "And to think that I 've got to +do something with these things in two weeks--two weeks!" Then he would +turn to them again with a sudden reaccession of eagerness. "Now, at it +again, at it again! Hold that note, hold it! Now whirl, and on the left +foot. Stop that music, stop it! Miss Coster, you 'll learn that step in +about a thousand years, and I 've got nine hundred and ninety-nine years +and fifty weeks less time than that to spare. Come here and try that +step with me. Don't be afraid to move. Step like a chicken on a hot +griddle!" And some blushing girl would come forward and go through the +step alone before all the rest.</p> + +<p>Kitty contemplated the scene with a mind equally divided between fear +and anger. What should she do if he should so speak to her? Like the +others, no doubt, smile sheepishly and obey him. But she did not like to +believe it. She felt that the independence which she had known from +babyhood would assert itself, and that she would talk back to him, even +as Hattie Sterling did. She felt scared and discouraged, but every now +and then her friend smiled encouragingly upon her across the ranks of +moving singers.</p> + +<p>Finally, however, her thoughts were broken in upon by hearing Mr. Martin +cry: "Oh, quit, quit, and go rest yourselves, you ancient pieces of +hickory, and let me forget you for a minute before I go crazy. Where 's +that new girl now?"</p> + +<p>Kitty rose and went toward him, trembling so that she could hardly walk.</p> + +<p>"What can you do?"</p> + +<p>"I can sing," very faintly.</p> + +<p>"Well, if that 's the voice you 're going to sing in, there won't be +many that 'll know whether it 's good or bad. Well, let 's hear +something. Do you know any of these?"</p> + +<p>And he ran over the titles of several songs. She knew some of them, and +he selected one. "Try this. Here, Tom, play it for her."</p> + +<p>It was an ordeal for the girl to go through. She had never sung before +at anything more formidable than a church concert, where only her +immediate acquaintances and townspeople were present. Now to sing before +all these strange people, themselves singers, made her feel faint and +awkward. But the courage of desperation came to her, and she struck into +the song. At the first her voice wavered and threatened to fail her. It +must not. She choked back her fright and forced the music from her lips.</p> + +<p>When she was done, she was startled to hear Martin burst into a raucous +laugh. Such humiliation! She had failed, and instead of telling her, he +was bringing her to shame before the whole company. The tears came into +her eyes, and she was about giving way when she caught a reassuring nod +and smile from Hattie Sterling, and seized on this as a last hope.</p> + +<p>"Haw, haw, haw!" laughed Martin, "haw, haw, haw! The little one was +scared, see? She was scared, d' you understand? But did you see the grit +she went at it with? Just took the bit in her teeth and got away. Haw, +haw, haw! Now, that 's what I like. If all you girls had that spirit, we +could do something in two weeks. Try another one, girl."</p> + +<p>Kitty's heart had suddenly grown light. She sang the second one better +because something within her was singing.</p> + +<p>"Good!" said Martin, but he immediately returned to his cold manner. +"You watch these girls close and see what they do, and to-morrow be +prepared to go into line and move as well as sing."</p> + +<p>He immediately turned his attention from her to the chorus, but no +slight that he could inflict upon her now could take away the sweet +truth that she was engaged and to-morrow would begin work. She wished +she could go over and embrace Hattie Sterling. She thought kindly of +Joe, and promised herself to give him a present out of her first month's +earnings.</p> + +<p>On the first night of the show pretty little Kitty Hamilton was pointed +out as a girl who would n't be in the chorus long. The mother, who was +soon to be Mrs. Gibson, sat in the balcony, a grieved, pained look on +her face. Joe was in a front row with some of the rest of the gang. He +took many drinks between the acts, because he was proud.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thomas was there. He also was proud, and after the performance he +waited for Kitty at the stage door and went forward to meet her as she +came out. The look she gave him stopped him, and he let her pass without +a word.</p> + +<p>"Who 'd 'a' thought," he mused, "that the kid had that much nerve? Well, +if they don't want to find out things, what do they come to N' Yawk for? +It ain't nobody's old Sunday-school picnic. Guess I got out easy, +anyhow."</p> + +<p>Hattie Sterling took Joe home in a hansom.</p> + +<p>"Say," she said, "if you come this way for me again, it 's all over, +see? Your little sister 's a comer, and I 've got to hustle to keep up +with her."</p> + +<p>Joe growled and fell asleep in his chair. One must needs have a strong +head or a strong will when one is the brother of a celebrity and would +celebrate the distinguished one's success.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="XIII" name="XIII"></a>XIII.</h2><h2>THE OAKLEYS</h2> + + +<p>A year after the arrest of Berry Hamilton, and at a time when New York +had shown to the eyes of his family so many strange new sights, there +were few changes to be noted in the condition of affairs at the Oakley +place. Maurice Oakley was perhaps a shade more distrustful of his +servants, and consequently more testy with them. Mrs. Oakley was the +same acquiescent woman, with unbounded faith in her husband's wisdom and +judgment. With complacent minds both went their ways, drank their wine, +and said their prayers, and wished that brother Frank's five years were +past. They had letters from him now and then, never very cheerful in +tone, but always breathing the deepest love and gratitude to them.</p> + +<p>His brother found deep cause for congratulation in the tone of these +epistles.</p> + +<p>"Frank is getting down to work," he would cry exultantly. "He is past +the first buoyant enthusiasm of youth. Ah, Leslie, when a man begins to +be serious, then he begins to be something." And her only answer would +be, "I wonder, Maurice, if Claire Lessing will wait for him?"</p> + +<p>The two had frequent questions to answer as to Frank's doing and +prospects, and they had always bright things to say of him, even when +his letters gave them no such warrant. Their love for him made them read +large between the lines, and all they read was good.</p> + +<p>Between Maurice and his brother no word of the guilty servant ever +passed. They each avoided it as an unpleasant subject. Frank had never +asked and his brother had never proffered aught of the outcome of the +case.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Oakley had once suggested it. "Brother ought to know," she said, +"that Berry is being properly punished."</p> + +<p>"By no means," replied her husband. "You know that it would only hurt +him. He shall never know if I have to tell him."</p> + +<p>"You are right, Maurice, you are always right. We must shield Frank from +the pain it would cause him. Poor fellow! he is so sensitive."</p> + +<p>Their hearts were still steadfastly fixed upon the union of this younger +brother with Claire Lessing. She had lately come into a fortune, and +there was nothing now to prevent it. They would have written Frank to +urge it, but they both believed that to try to woo him away from his art +was but to make him more wayward. That any woman could have power enough +to take him away from this jealous mistress they very much doubted. But +they could hope, and hope made them eager to open every letter that bore +the French postmark. Always it might contain news that he was coming +home, or that he had made a great success, or, better, some inquiry +after Claire. A long time they had waited, but found no such tidings in +the letters from Paris.</p> + +<p>At last, as Maurice Oakley sat in his library one day, the servant +brought him a letter more bulky in weight and appearance than any he had +yet received. His eyes glistened with pleasure as he read the postmark. +"A letter from Frank," he said joyfully, "and an important one, I 'll +wager."</p> + +<p>He smiled as he weighed it in his hand and caressed it. Mrs. Oakley was +out shopping, and as he knew how deep her interest was, he hesitated to +break the seal before she returned. He curbed his natural desire and +laid the heavy envelope down on the desk. But he could not deny himself +the pleasure of speculating as to its contents.</p> + +<p>It was such a large, interesting-looking package. What might it not +contain? It simply reeked of possibilities. Had any one banteringly told +Maurice Oakley that he had such a deep vein of sentiment, he would have +denied it with scorn and laughter. But here he found himself sitting +with the letter in his hand and weaving stories as to its contents.</p> + +<p>First, now, it might be a notice that Frank had received the badge of +the Legion of Honour. No, no, that was too big, and he laughed aloud at +his own folly, wondering the next minute, with half shame, why he +laughed, for did he, after all, believe anything was too big for that +brother of his? Well, let him begin, anyway, away down. Let him say, for +instance, that the letter told of the completion and sale of a great +picture. Frank had sold small ones. He would be glad of this, for his +brother had written him several times of things that were a-doing, but +not yet of anything that was done. Or, better yet, let the letter say +that some picture, long finished, but of which the artist's pride and +anxiety had forbidden him to speak, had made a glowing success, the +success it deserved. This sounded well, and seemed not at all beyond the +bounds of possibility. It was an alluring vision. He saw the picture +already. It was a scene from life, true in detail to the point of very +minuteness, and yet with something spiritual in it that lifted it above +the mere copy of the commonplace. At the Salon it would be hung on the +line, and people would stand before it admiring its workmanship and +asking who the artist was. He drew on his memory of old reading. In his +mind's eye he saw Frank, unconscious of his own power or too modest to +admit it, stand unknown among the crowds around his picture waiting for +and dreading their criticisms. He saw the light leap to his eyes as he +heard their words of praise. He saw the straightening of his narrow +shoulders when he was forced to admit that he was the painter of the +work. Then the windows of Paris were filled with his portraits. The +papers were full of his praise, and brave men and fair women met +together to do him homage. Fair women, yes, and Frank would look upon +them all and see reflected in them but a tithe of the glory of one +woman, and that woman Claire Lessing. He roused himself and laughed +again as he tapped the magic envelope.</p> + +<p>"My fancies go on and conquer the world for my brother," he muttered. +"He will follow their flight one day and do it himself."</p> + +<p>The letter drew his eyes back to it. It seemed to invite him, to beg him +even. "No, I will not do it; I will wait until Leslie comes. She will be +as glad to hear the good news as I am."</p> + +<p>His dreams were taking the shape of reality in his mind, and he was +believing all that he wanted to believe.</p> + +<p>He turned to look at a picture painted by Frank which hung over the +mantel. He dwelt lovingly upon it, seeing in it the touch of a genius.</p> + +<p>"Surely," he said, "this new picture cannot be greater than that, though +it shall hang where kings can see it and this only graces the library of +my poor house. It has the feeling of a woman's soul with the strength +of a man's heart. When Frank and Claire marry, I shall give it back to +them. It is too great a treasure for a clod like me. Heigho, why will +women be so long a-shopping?"</p> + +<p>He glanced again at the letter, and his hand went out involuntarily +towards it. He fondled it, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Lady Leslie, I 've a mind to open it to punish you for staying so +long."</p> + +<p>He essayed to be playful, but he knew that he was trying to make a +compromise with himself because his eagerness grew stronger than his +gallantry. He laid the letter down and picked it up again. He studied +the postmark over and over. He got up and walked to the window and back +again, and then began fumbling in his pockets for his knife. No, he did +not want it; yes, he did. He would just cut the envelope and make +believe he had read it to pique his wife; but he would not read it. Yes, +that was it. He found the knife and slit the paper. His fingers +trembled as he touched the sheets that protruded. Why would not Leslie +come? Did she not know that he was waiting for her? She ought to have +known that there was a letter from Paris to-day, for it had been a month +since they had had one.</p> + +<p>There was a sound of footsteps without. He sprang up, crying, "I 've +been waiting so long for you!" A servant opened the door to bring him a +message. Oakley dismissed him angrily. What did he want to go down to +the Continental for to drink and talk politics to a lot of muddle-pated +fools when he had a brother in Paris who was an artist and a letter from +him lay unread in his hand? His patience and his temper were going. +Leslie was careless and unfeeling. She ought to come; he was tired of +waiting.</p> + +<p>A carriage rolled up the driveway and he dropped the letter guiltily, as +if it were not his own. He would only say that he had grown tired of +waiting and started to read it. But it was only Mrs. Davis's footman +leaving a note for Leslie about some charity.</p> + +<p>He went back to the letter. Well, it was his. Leslie had forfeited her +right to see it as soon as he. It might be mean, but it was not +dishonest. No, he would not read it now, but he would take it out and +show her that he had exercised his self-control in spite of her +shortcomings. He laid it on the desk once more. It leered at him. He +might just open the sheets enough to see the lines that began it, and +read no further. Yes, he would do that. Leslie could not feel hurt at +such a little thing.</p> + +<p>The first line had only "Dear Brother." "Dear Brother"! Why not the +second? That could not hold much more. The second line held him, and the +third, and the fourth, and as he read on, unmindful now of what Leslie +might think or feel, his face turned from the ruddy glow of pleasant +anxiety to the pallor of grief and terror. He was not half-way through +it when Mrs. Oakley's voice in the hall announced her coming. He did +not hear her. He sat staring at the page before him, his lips apart and +his eyes staring. Then, with a cry that echoed through the house, +crumpling the sheets in his hand, he fell forward fainting to the floor, +just as his wife rushed into the room.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she cried. "Maurice! Maurice!"</p> + +<p>He lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling, the letter clutched in +his hands. She ran to him and lifted up his head, but he gave no sign of +life. Already the servants were crowding to the door. She bade one of +them to hasten for a doctor, others to bring water and brandy, and the +rest to be gone. As soon as she was alone, she loosed the crumpled +sheets from his hand, for she felt that this must have been the cause of +her husband's strange attack. Without a thought of wrong, for they had +no secrets from each other, she glanced at the opening lines. Then she +forgot the unconscious man at her feet and read the letter through to +the end.</p> + +<p>The letter was in Frank's neat hand, a little shaken, perhaps, by +nervousness.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"DEAR BROTHER," it ran, "I know you will grieve at + receiving this, and I wish that I might bear your grief for you, + but I cannot, though I have as heavy a burden as this can bring to + you. Mine would have been lighter to-day, perhaps, had you been + more straightforward with me. I am not blaming you, however, for I + know that my hypocrisy made you believe me possessed of a really + soft heart, and you thought to spare me. Until yesterday, when in a + letter from Esterton he casually mentioned the matter, I did not + know that Berry was in prison, else this letter would have been + written sooner. I have been wanting to write it for so long, and + yet have been too great a coward to do so.</p> + +<p> "I know that you will be disappointed in me, and just what that + disappointment will cost you I know; but you must hear the truth. I + shall never see your face again, or I should not dare to tell it + even now. You will remember that I begged you to be easy on your + servant. You thought it was only my kindness of heart. It was not; + I had a deeper reason. I knew where the money had gone and dared + not tell. Berry is as innocent as yourself--and I--well, it is a + story, and let me tell it to you.</p> + +<p> "You have had so much confidence in me, and I hate to tell you that + it was all misplaced. I have no doubt that I should not be doing it + now but that I have drunken absinthe enough to give me the + emotional point of view, which I shall regret to-morrow. I do not + mean that I am drunk. I can think clearly and write clearly, but my + emotions are extremely active.</p> + +<p> "Do you remember Claire's saying at the table that night of the + farewell dinner that some dark-eyed mademoiselle was waiting for + me? She did not know how truly she spoke, though I fancy she saw + how I flushed when she said it: for I was already in love--madly + so.</p> + +<p> "I need not describe her. I need say nothing about her, for I know + that nothing I say can ever persuade you to forgive her for taking + me from you. This has gone on since I first came here, and I dared + not tell you, for I saw whither your eyes had turned. I loved this + girl, and she both inspired and hindered my work. Perhaps I would + have been successful had I not met her, perhaps not.</p> + +<p> "I love her too well to marry her and make of our devotion a stale, + prosy thing of duty and compulsion. When a man does not marry a + woman, he must keep her better than he would a wife. It costs. All + that you gave me went to make her happy.</p> + +<p> "Then, when I was about leaving you, the catastrophe came. I wanted + much to carry back to her. I gambled to make more. I would surprise + her. Luck was against me. Night after night I lost. Then, just + before the dinner, I woke from my frenzy to find all that I had was + gone. I would have asked you for more, and you would have given it; + but that strange, ridiculous something which we misname Southern + honour, that honour which strains at a gnat and swallows a camel, + withheld me, and I preferred to do worse. So I lied to you. The + money from my cabinet was not stolen save by myself. I am a liar + and a thief, but your eyes shall never tell me so.</p> + +<p> "Tell the truth and have Berry released. I can stand it. Write me + but one letter to tell me of this. Do not plead with me, do not + forgive me, do not seek to find me, for from this time I shall be + as one who has perished from the earth; I shall be no more.</p> + +<p class="right"> "Your brother, + FRANK."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>By the time the servants came they found Mrs. Oakley as white as her +lord. But with firm hands and compressed lips she ministered to his +needs pending the doctor's arrival. She bathed his face and temples, +chafed his hands, and forced the brandy between his lips. Finally he +stirred and his hands gripped.</p> + +<p>"The letter!" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, I have it; I have it."</p> + +<p>"Give it to me," he cried. She handed it to him. He seized it and thrust +it into his breast.</p> + +<p>"Did--did--you read it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did not know----"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God, I did not intend that you should see it. I wanted the +secret for my own. I wanted to carry it to my grave with me. Oh, Frank, +Frank, Frank!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Maurice. It is as if you alone knew it."</p> + +<p>"It is not, I say, it is not!"</p> + +<p>He turned upon his face and began to weep passionately, not like a man, +but like a child whose last toy has been broken.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God," he moaned, "my brother, my brother!"</p> + +<p>"'Sh, dearie, think--it 's--it 's--Frank."</p> + +<p>"That 's it, that 's it--that 's what I can't forget. It 's +Frank,--Frank, my brother."</p> + +<p>Suddenly he sat up and his eyes stared straight into hers.</p> + +<p>"Leslie, no one must ever know what is in this letter," he said calmly.</p> + +<p>"No one shall, Maurice; come, let us burn it."</p> + +<p>"Burn it? No, no," he cried, clutching at his breast. "It must not be +burned. What! burn my brother's secret? No, no, I must carry it with +me,--carry it with me to the grave."</p> + +<p>"But, Maurice----"</p> + +<p>"I must carry it with me."</p> + +<p>She saw that he was overwrought, and so did not argue with him.</p> + +<p>When the doctor came, he found Maurice Oakley in bed, but better. The +medical man diagnosed the case and decided that he had received some +severe shock. He feared too for his heart, for the patient constantly +held his hands pressed against his bosom. In vain the doctor pleaded; he +would not take them down, and when the wife added her word, the +physician gave up, and after prescribing, left, much puzzled in mind.</p> + +<p>"It 's a strange case," he said; "there 's something more than the +nervous shock that makes him clutch his chest like that, and yet I have +never noticed signs of heart trouble in Oakley. Oh, well, business worry +will produce anything in anybody."</p> + +<p>It was soon common talk about the town about Maurice Oakley's attack. In +the seclusion of his chamber he was saying to his wife:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Leslie, you and I will keep the secret. No one shall ever know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, but--but--what of Berry?"</p> + +<p>"What of Berry?" he cried, starting up excitedly. "What is Berry to +Frank? What is that nigger to my brother? What are his sufferings to the +honour of my family and name?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Maurice, never mind, you are right."</p> + +<p>"It must never be known, I say, if Berry has to rot in jail."</p> + +<p>So they wrote a lie to Frank, and buried the secret in their breasts, +and Oakley wore its visible form upon his heart.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="XIV" name="XIV"></a>XIV.</h2><h2>FRANKENSTEIN</h2> + + +<p>Five years is but a short time in the life of a man, and yet many things +may happen therein. For instance, the whole way of a family's life may +be changed. Good natures may be made into bad ones and out of a soul of +faith grow a spirit of unbelief. The independence of respectability may +harden into the insolence of defiance, and the sensitive cheek of +modesty into the brazen face of shamelessness. It may be true that the +habits of years are hard to change, but this is not true of the first +sixteen or seventeen years of a young person's life, else Kitty Hamilton +and Joe could not so easily have become what they were. It had taken +barely five years to accomplish an entire metamorphosis of their +characters. In Joe's case even a shorter time was needed. He was so +ready to go down that it needed but a gentle push to start him, and once +started, there was nothing within him to hold him back from the depths. +For his will was as flabby as his conscience, and his pride, which +stands to some men for conscience, had no definite aim or direction.</p> + +<p>Hattie Sterling had given him both his greatest impulse for evil and for +good. She had at first given him his gentle push, but when she saw that +his collapse would lose her a faithful and useful slave she had sought +to check his course. Her threat of the severance of their relations had +held him up for a little time, and she began to believe that he was safe +again. He went back to the work he had neglected, drank moderately, and +acted in most things as a sound, sensible being. Then, all of a sudden, +he went down again, and went down badly. She kept her promise and threw +him over. Then he became a hanger-on at the clubs, a genteel loafer. He +used to say in his sober moments that at last he was one of the boys +that Sadness had spoken of. He did not work, and yet he lived and ate +and was proud of his degradation. But he soon tired of being separated +from Hattie, and straightened up again. After some demur she received +him upon his former footing. It was only for a few months. He fell +again. For almost four years this had happened intermittently. Finally +he took a turn for the better that endured so long that Hattie Sterling +again gave him her faith. Then the woman made her mistake. She warmed to +him. She showed him that she was proud of him. He went forth at once to +celebrate his victory. He did not return to her for three days. Then he +was battered, unkempt, and thick of speech.</p> + +<p>She looked at him in silent contempt for a while as he sat nursing his +aching head.</p> + +<p>"Well, you 're a beauty," she said finally with cutting scorn. "You +ought to be put under a glass case and placed on exhibition."</p> + +<p>He groaned and his head sunk lower. A drunken man is always disarmed.</p> + +<p>His helplessness, instead of inspiring her with pity, inflamed her with +an unfeeling anger that burst forth in a volume of taunts.</p> + +<p>"You 're the thing I 've given up all my chances for--you, a miserable, +drunken jay, without a jay's decency. No one had ever looked at you +until I picked you up and you 've been strutting around ever since, +showing off because I was kind to you, and now this is the way you pay +me back. Drunk half the time and half drunk the rest. Well, you know +what I told you the last time you got 'loaded'? I mean it too. You 're +not the only star in sight, see?"</p> + +<p>She laughed meanly and began to sing, "You 'll have to find another baby +now."</p> + +<p>For the first time he looked up, and his eyes were full of tears--tears +both of grief and intoxication. There was an expression of a whipped dog +on his face.</p> + +<p>"Do'--Ha'ie, do'--" he pleaded, stretching out his hands to her.</p> + +<p>Her eyes blazed back at him, but she sang on insolently, tauntingly.</p> + +<p>The very inanity of the man disgusted her, and on a sudden impulse she +sprang up and struck him full in the face with the flat of her hand. He +was too weak to resist the blow, and, tumbling from the chair, fell +limply to the floor, where he lay at her feet, alternately weeping aloud +and quivering with drunken, hiccoughing sobs.</p> + +<p>"Get up!" she cried; "get up and get out o' here. You sha'n't lay around +my house."</p> + +<p>He had already begun to fall into a drunken sleep, but she shook him, +got him to his feet, and pushed him outside the door. "Now, go, you +drunken dog, and never put your foot inside this house again."</p> + +<p>He stood outside, swaying dizzily upon his feet and looking back with +dazed eyes at the door, then he muttered: "Pu' me out, wi' you? Pu' me +out, damn you! Well, I ki' you. See 'f I don't;" and he half walked, +half fell down the street.</p> + +<p>Sadness and Skaggsy were together at the club that night. Five years had +not changed the latter as to wealth or position or inclination, and he +was still a frequent visitor at the Banner. He always came in alone now, +for Maudie had gone the way of all the half-world, and reached depths to +which Mr. Skaggs's job prevented him from following her. However, he +mourned truly for his lost companion, and to-night he was in a +particularly pensive mood.</p> + +<p>Some one was playing rag-time on the piano, and the dancers were +wheeling in time to the music. Skaggsy looked at them regretfully as he +sipped his liquor. It made him think of Maudie. He sighed and turned +away.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, Sadness," he said impulsively, "dancing is the poetry of +motion."</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Sadness, "and dancing in rag-time is the dialect +poetry."</p> + +<p>The reporter did not like this. It savoured of flippancy, and he was +about entering upon a discussion to prove that Sadness had no soul, when +Joe, with blood-shot eyes and dishevelled clothes, staggered in and +reeled towards them.</p> + +<p>"Drunk again," said Sadness. "Really, it 's a waste of time for Joe to +sober up. Hullo there!" as the young man brought up against him; "take a +seat." He put him in a chair at the table. "Been lushin' a bit, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Gi' me some'n' drink."</p> + +<p>"Oh, a hair of the dog. Some men shave their dogs clean, and then have +hydrophobia. Here, Jack!"</p> + +<p>They drank, and then, as if the whiskey had done him good, Joe sat up in +his chair.</p> + +<p>"Ha'ie 's throwed me down."</p> + +<p>"Lucky dog! You might have known it would have happened sooner or later. +Better sooner than never."</p> + +<p>Skaggs smoked in silence and looked at Joe.</p> + +<p>"I 'm goin' to kill her."</p> + +<p>"I would n't if I were you. Take old Sadness's advice and thank your +stars that you 're rid of her."</p> + +<p>"I 'm goin' to kill her." He paused and looked at them drowsily. Then, +bracing himself up again, he broke out suddenly, "Say, d' ever tell y' +'bout the ol' man? He never stole that money. Know he di' n'."</p> + +<p>He threatened to fall asleep now, but the reporter was all alert. He +scented a story.</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" he exclaimed, "did you hear that? Bet the chap stole it +himself and 's letting the old man suffer for it. Great story, ain't it? +Come, come, wake up here. Three more, Jack. What about your father?"</p> + +<p>"Father? Who's father. Oh, do' bother me. What?"</p> + +<p>"Here, here, tell us about your father and the money. If he did n't +steal it, who did?"</p> + +<p>"Who did? Tha' 's it, who did? Ol' man di' n' steal it, know he di' n'."</p> + +<p>"Oh, let him alone, Skaggsy, he don't know what he 's saying."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he does, a drunken man tells the truth."</p> + +<p>"In some cases," said Sadness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, let me alone, man. I 've been trying for years to get a big +sensation for my paper, and if this story is one, I 'm a made man."</p> + +<p>The drink seemed to revive the young man again, and by bits Skaggs was +able to pick out of him the story of his father's arrest and conviction. +At its close he relapsed into stupidity, murmuring, "She throwed me +down."</p> + +<p>"Well," sneered Sadness, "you see drunken men tell the truth, and you +don't seem to get much guilt out of our young friend. You 're +disappointed, are n't you?"</p> + +<p>"I confess I am disappointed, but I 've got an idea, just the same."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have? Well, don't handle it carelessly; it might go off." And +Sadness rose. The reporter sat thinking for a time and then followed +him, leaving Joe in a drunken sleep at the table. There he lay for more +than two hours. When he finally awoke, he started up as if some +determination had come to him in his sleep. A part of the helplessness +of his intoxication had gone, but his first act was to call for more +whiskey. This he gulped down, and followed with another and another. For +a while he stood still, brooding silently, his red eyes blinking at the +light. Then he turned abruptly and left the club.</p> + +<p>It was very late when he reached Hattie's door, but he opened it with +his latch-key, as he had been used to do. He stopped to help himself to +a glass of brandy, as he had so often done before. Then he went directly +to her room. She was a light sleeper, and his step awakened her.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" she cried in affright.</p> + +<p>"It 's me." His voice was steadier now, but grim.</p> + +<p>"What do you want? Did n't I tell you never to come here again? Get out +or I 'll have you taken out."</p> + +<p>She sprang up in bed, glaring angrily at him.</p> + +<p>His hands twitched nervously, as if her will were conquering him and he +were uneasy, but he held her eye with his own.</p> + +<p>"You put me out to-night," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I 'm going to do it again. You 're drunk."</p> + +<p>She started to rise, but he took a step towards her and she paused. He +looked as she had never seen him look before. His face was ashen and his +eyes like fire and blood. She quailed beneath the look. He took another +step towards her.</p> + +<p>"You put me out to-night," he repeated, "like a dog."</p> + +<p>His step was steady and his tone was clear, menacingly clear. She shrank +back from him, back to the wall. Still his hands twitched and his eye +held her. Still he crept slowly towards her, his lips working and his +hands moving convulsively.</p> + +<p>"Joe, Joe!" she said hoarsely, "what 's the matter? Oh, don't look at me +like that."</p> + +<p>The gown had fallen away from her breast and showed the convulsive +fluttering of her heart.</p> + +<p>He broke into a laugh, a dry, murderous laugh, and his hands sought each +other while the fingers twitched over one another like coiling serpents.</p> + +<p>"You put me out--you--you, and you made me what I am." The realisation +of what he was, of his foulness and degradation, seemed just to have +come to him fully. "You made me what I am, and then you sent me away. +You let me come back, and now you put me out."</p> + +<p>She gazed at him fascinated. She tried to scream and she could not. This +was not Joe. This was not the boy that she had turned and twisted about +her little finger. This was a terrible, terrible man or a monster.</p> + +<p>He moved a step nearer her. His eyes fell to her throat. For an instant +she lost their steady glare and then she found her voice. The scream was +checked as it began. His fingers had closed over her throat just where +the gown had left it temptingly bare. They gave it the caress of death. +She struggled. They held her. Her eyes prayed to his. But his were the +fire of hell. She fell back upon her pillow in silence. He had not +uttered a word. He held her. Finally he flung her from him like a rag, +and sank into a chair. And there the officers found him when Hattie +Sterling's disappearance had become a strange thing.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="XV" name="XV"></a>XV.</h2><h2>"DEAR, DAMNED, DELIGHTFUL TOWN"</h2> + + +<p>When Joe was taken, there was no spirit or feeling left in him. He moved +mechanically, as if without sense or volition. The first impression he +gave was that of a man over-acting insanity. But this was soon removed +by the very indifference with which he met everything concerned with his +crime. From the very first he made no effort to exonerate or to +vindicate himself. He talked little and only in a dry, stupefied way. He +was as one whose soul is dead, and perhaps it was; for all the little +soul of him had been wrapped up in the body of this one woman, and the +stroke that took her life had killed him too.</p> + +<p>The men who examined him were irritated beyond measure. There was +nothing for them to exercise their ingenuity upon. He left them nothing +to search for. Their most damning question he answered with an apathy +that showed absolutely no interest in the matter. It was as if some one +whom he did not care about had committed a crime and he had been called +to testify. The only thing which he noticed or seemed to have any +affection for was a little pet dog which had been hers and which they +sometimes allowed to be with him after the life sentence had been passed +upon him and when he was awaiting removal. He would sit for hours with +the little animal in his lap, caressing it dumbly. There was a mute +sorrow in the eyes of both man and dog, and they seemed to take comfort +in each other's presence. There was no need of any sign between them. +They had both loved her, had they not? So they understood.</p> + +<p>Sadness saw him and came back to the Banner, torn and unnerved by the +sight. "I saw him," he said with a shudder, "and it 'll take more +whiskey than Jack can give me in a year to wash the memory of him out of +me. Why, man, it shocked me all through. It 's a pity they did n't send +him to the chair. It could n't have done him much harm and would have +been a real mercy."</p> + +<p>And so Sadness and all the club, with a muttered "Poor devil!" dismissed +him. He was gone. Why should they worry? Only one more who had got into +the whirlpool, enjoyed the sensation for a moment, and then swept +dizzily down. There were, indeed, some who for an earnest hour +sermonised about it and said, "Here is another example of the pernicious +influence of the city on untrained negroes. Oh, is there no way to keep +these people from rushing away from the small villages and country +districts of the South up to the cities, where they cannot battle with +the terrible force of a strange and unusual environment? Is there no way +to prove to them that woollen-shirted, brown-jeaned simplicity is +infinitely better than broad-clothed degradation?" They wanted to +preach to these people that good agriculture is better than bad +art,--that it was better and nobler for them to sing to God across the +Southern fields than to dance for rowdies in the Northern halls. They +wanted to dare to say that the South has its faults--no one condones +them--and its disadvantages, but that even what they suffered from these +was better than what awaited them in the great alleys of New York. Down +there, the bodies were restrained, and they chafed; but here the soul +would fester, and they would be content.</p> + +<p>This was but for an hour, for even while they exclaimed they knew that +there was no way, and that the stream of young negro life would continue +to flow up from the South, dashing itself against the hard necessities +of the city and breaking like waves against a rock,--that, until the +gods grew tired of their cruel sport, there must still be sacrifices to +false ideals and unreal ambitions.</p> + +<p>There was one heart, though, that neither dismissed Joe with gratuitous +pity nor sermonised about him. The mother heart had only room for grief +and pain. Already it had borne its share. It had known sorrow for a lost +husband, tears at the neglect and brutality of a new companion, shame +for a daughter's sake, and it had seemed already filled to overflowing. +And yet the fates had put in this one other burden until it seemed it +must burst with the weight of it.</p> + +<p>To Fannie Hamilton's mind now all her boy's shortcomings became as +naught. He was not her wayward, erring, criminal son. She only +remembered that he was her son, and wept for him as such. She forgot his +curses, while her memory went back to the sweetness of his baby prattle +and the soft words of his tenderer youth. Until the last she clung to +him, holding him guiltless, and to her thought they took to prison, not +Joe Hamilton, a convicted criminal, but Joey, Joey, her boy, her +firstborn,--a martyr.</p> + +<p>The pretty Miss Kitty Hamilton was less deeply impressed. The arrest +and subsequent conviction of her brother was quite a blow. She felt the +shame of it keenly, and some of the grief. To her, coming as it did just +at a time when the company was being strengthened and she more +importantly featured than ever, it was decidedly inopportune, for no one +could help connecting her name with the affair.</p> + +<p>For a long time she and her brother had scarcely been upon speaking +terms. During Joe's frequent lapses from industry he had been prone to +"touch" his sister for the wherewithal to supply his various wants. +When, finally, she grew tired and refused to be "touched," he rebuked +her for withholding that which, save for his help, she would never have +been able to make. This went on until they were almost entirely +estranged. He was wont to say that "now his sister was up in the world, +she had got the big head," and she to retort that her brother "wanted to +use her for a 'soft thing.'"</p> + +<p>From the time that she went on the stage she had begun to live her own +life, a life in which the chief aim was the possession of good clothes +and the ability to attract the attention which she had learned to crave. +The greatest sign of interest she showed in her brother's affair was, at +first, to offer her mother money to secure a lawyer. But when Joe +confessed all, she consoled herself with the reflection that perhaps it +was for the best, and kept her money in her pocket with a sense of +satisfaction. She was getting to be so very much more Joe's sister. She +did not go to see her brother. She was afraid it might make her nervous +while she was in the city, and she went on the road with her company +before he was taken away.</p> + +<p>Miss Kitty Hamilton had to be very careful about her nerves and her +health. She had had experiences, and her voice was not as good as it +used to be, and her beauty had to be aided by cosmetics. So she went +away from New York, and only read of all that happened when some one +called her attention to it in the papers.</p> + +<p>Berry Hamilton in his Southern prison knew nothing of all this, for no +letters had passed between him and his family for more than two years. +The very cruelty of destiny defeated itself in this and was kind.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="XVI" name="XVI"></a>XVI.</h2><h2>SKAGGS'S THEORY</h2> + + +<p>There was, perhaps, more depth to Mr. Skaggs than most people gave him +credit for having. However it may be, when he got an idea into his head, +whether it were insane or otherwise, he had a decidedly tenacious way of +holding to it. Sadness had been disposed to laugh at him when he +announced that Joe's drunken story of his father's troubles had given +him an idea. But it was, nevertheless, true, and that idea had stayed +with him clear through the exciting events that followed on that fatal +night. He thought and dreamed of it until he had made a working theory. +Then one day, with a boldness that he seldom assumed when in the sacred +Presence, he walked into the office and laid his plans before the +editor. They talked together for some time, and the editor seemed hard +to convince.</p> + +<p>"It would be a big thing for the paper," he said, "if it only panned +out; but it is such a rattle-brained, harum-scarum thing. No one under +the sun would have thought of it but you, Skaggs."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it 's bound to pan out. I see the thing as clear as day. There 's +no getting around it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it looks plausible, but so does all fiction. You 're taking a +chance. You 're losing time. If it fails----"</p> + +<p>"But if it succeeds?"</p> + +<p>"Well, go and bring back a story. If you don't, look out. It 's against +my better judgment anyway. Remember I told you that."</p> + +<p>Skaggs shot out of the office, and within an hour and a half had boarded +a fast train for the South.</p> + +<p>It is almost a question whether Skaggs had a theory or whether he had +told himself a pretty story and, as usual, believed it. The editor was +right. No one else would have thought of the wild thing that was in the +reporter's mind. The detective had not thought of it five years before, +nor had Maurice Oakley and his friends had an inkling, and here was one +of the New York <i>Universe's</i> young men going miles to prove his idea +about something that did not at all concern him.</p> + +<p>When Skaggs reached the town which had been the home of the Hamiltons, +he went at once to the Continental Hotel. He had as yet formulated no +plan of immediate action and with a fool's or a genius' belief in his +destiny he sat down to await the turn of events. His first move would be +to get acquainted with some of his neighbours. This was no difficult +matter, as the bar of the Continental was still the gathering-place of +some of the city's choice spirits of the old régime. Thither he went, +and his convivial cheerfulness soon placed him on terms of equality with +many of his kind.</p> + +<p>He insinuated that he was looking around for business prospects. This +proved his open-sesame. Five years had not changed the Continental +frequenters much, and Skaggs's intention immediately brought Beachfield +Davis down upon him with the remark, "If a man wants to go into +business, business for a gentleman, suh, Gad, there 's no finer or +better paying business in the world than breeding blooded dogs--that is, +if you get a man of experience to go in with you."</p> + +<p>"Dogs, dogs," drivelled old Horace Talbot, "Beachfield 's always talking +about dogs. I remember the night we were all discussing that Hamilton +nigger's arrest, Beachfield said it was a sign of total depravity +because his man hunted 'possums with his hound." The old man laughed +inanely. The hotel whiskey was getting on his nerves.</p> + +<p>The reporter opened his eyes and his ears. He had stumbled upon +something, at any rate.</p> + +<p>"What was it about some nigger's arrest, sir?" he asked respectfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was n't anything much. Only an old and trusted servant robbed +his master, and my theory----"</p> + +<p>"But you will remember, Mr. Talbot," broke in Davis, "that I proved your +theory to be wrong and cited a conclusive instance."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a 'possum-hunting dog."</p> + +<p>"I am really anxious to hear about the robbery, though. It seems such an +unusual thing for a negro to steal a great amount."</p> + +<p>"Just so, and that was part of my theory. Now----"</p> + +<p>"It 's an old story and a long one, Mr. Skaggs, and one of merely local +repute," interjected Colonel Saunders. "I don't think it could possibly +interest you, who are familiar with the records of the really great +crimes that take place in a city such as New York."</p> + +<p>"Those things do interest me very much, though. I am something of a +psychologist, and I often find the smallest and most +insignificant-appearing details pregnant with suggestion. Won't you let +me hear the story, Colonel?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, though there 's little in it save that I am one of the few +men who have come to believe that the negro, Berry Hamilton, is not the +guilty party."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! nonsense!" said Talbot; "of course Berry was guilty, but, as +I said before, I don't blame him. The negroes----"</p> + +<p>"Total depravity," said Davis. "Now look at my dog----"</p> + +<p>"If you will retire with me to the further table I will give you +whatever of the facts I can call to mind."</p> + +<p>As unobtrusively as they could, they drew apart from the others and +seated themselves at a more secluded table, leaving Talbot and Davis +wrangling, as of old, over their theories. When the glasses were filled +and the pipes going, the Colonel began his story, interlarding it +frequently with comments of his own.</p> + +<p>"Now, in the first place, Mr. Skaggs," he said when the tale was done, +"I am lawyer enough to see for myself how weak the evidence was upon +which the negro was convicted, and later events have done much to +confirm me in the opinion that he was innocent."</p> + +<p>"Later events?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." The Colonel leaned across the table and his voice fell to a +whisper. "Four years ago a great change took place in Maurice Oakley. It +happened in the space of a day, and no one knows the cause of it. From a +social, companionable man, he became a recluse, shunning visitors and +dreading society. From an open-hearted, unsuspicious neighbour, he +became secretive and distrustful of his own friends. From an active +business man, he has become a retired brooder. He sees no one if he can +help it. He writes no letters and receives none, not even from his +brother, it is said. And all of this came about in the space of +twenty-four hours."</p> + +<p>"But what was the beginning of it?"</p> + +<p>"No one knows, save that one day he had some sort of nervous attack. By +the time the doctor was called he was better, but he kept clutching his +hand over his heart. Naturally, the physician wanted to examine him +there, but the very suggestion of it seemed to throw him into a frenzy; +and his wife too begged the doctor, an old friend of the family, to +desist. Maurice Oakley had been as sound as a dollar, and no one of the +family had had any tendency to heart affection."</p> + +<p>"It is strange."</p> + +<p>"Strange it is, but I have my theory."</p> + +<p>"His actions are like those of a man guarding a secret."</p> + +<p>"Sh! His negro laundress says that there is an inside pocket in his +undershirts."</p> + +<p>"An inside pocket?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And for what?" Skaggs was trembling with eagerness.</p> + +<p>The Colonel dropped his voice lower.</p> + +<p>"We can only speculate," he said; "but, as I have said, I have my +theory. Oakley was a just man, and in punishing his old servant for the +supposed robbery it is plain that he acted from principle. But he is +also a proud man and would hate to confess that he had been in the +wrong. So I believed that the cause of his first shock was the finding +of the money that he supposed gone. Unwilling to admit this error, he +lets the misapprehension go on, and it is the money which he carries in +his secret pocket, with a morbid fear of its discovery, that has made +him dismiss his servants, leave his business, and refuse to see his +friends."</p> + +<p>"A very natural conclusion, Colonel, and I must say that I believe you. +It is strange that others have not seen as you have seen and brought the +matter to light."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, Mr. Skaggs, none are so dull as the people who think +they think. I can safely say that there is not another man in this town +who has lighted upon the real solution of this matter, though it has +been openly talked of for so long. But as for bringing it to light, no +one would think of doing that. It would be sure to hurt Oakley's +feelings, and he is of one of our best families."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, perfectly right."</p> + +<p>Skaggs had got all that he wanted; much more, in fact, than he had +expected. The Colonel held him for a while yet to enlarge upon the views +that he had expressed.</p> + +<p>When the reporter finally left him, it was with a cheery "Good-night, +Colonel. If I were a criminal, I should be afraid of that analytical +mind of yours!"</p> + +<p>He went upstairs chuckling. "The old fool!" he cried as he flung himself +into a chair. "I 've got it! I 've got it! Maurice Oakley must see me, +and then what?" He sat down to think out what he should do to-morrow. +Again, with his fine disregard of ways and means, he determined to trust +to luck, and as he expressed it, "brace old Oakley."</p> + +<p>Accordingly he went about nine o'clock the next morning to Oakley's +house. A gray-haired, sad-eyed woman inquired his errand.</p> + +<p>"I want to see Mr. Oakley," he said.</p> + +<p>"You cannot see him. Mr. Oakley is not well and does not see visitors."</p> + +<p>"But I must see him, madam; I am here upon business of importance."</p> + +<p>"You can tell me just as well as him. I am his wife and transact all of +his business."</p> + +<p>"I can tell no one but the master of the house himself."</p> + +<p>"You cannot see him. It is against his orders."</p> + +<p>"Very well," replied Skaggs, descending one step; "it is his loss, not +mine. I have tried to do my duty and failed. Simply tell him that I came +from Paris."</p> + +<p>"Paris?" cried a querulous voice behind the woman's back. "Leslie, why +do you keep the gentleman at the door? Let him come in at once."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Oakley stepped from the door and Skaggs went in. Had he seen +Oakley before he would have been shocked at the change in his +appearance; but as it was, the nervous, white-haired man who stood +shiftily before him told him nothing of an eating secret long carried. +The man's face was gray and haggard, and deep lines were cut under his +staring, fish-like eyes. His hair tumbled in white masses over his +pallid forehead, and his lips twitched as he talked.</p> + +<p>"You 're from Paris, sir, from Paris?" he said. "Come in, come in."</p> + +<p>His motions were nervous and erratic. Skaggs followed him into the +library, and the wife disappeared in another direction.</p> + +<p>It would have been hard to recognise in the Oakley of the present the +man of a few years before. The strong frame had gone away to bone, and +nothing of his old power sat on either brow or chin. He was as a man who +trembled on the brink of insanity. His guilty secret had been too much +for him, and Skaggs's own fingers twitched as he saw his host's hands +seek the breast of his jacket every other moment.</p> + +<p>"It is there the secret is hidden," he said to himself, "and whatever it +is, I must have it. But how--how? I can't knock the man down and rob him +in his own house." But Oakley himself proceeded to give him his first +cue.</p> + +<p>"You--you--perhaps have a message from my brother--my brother who is in +Paris. I have not heard from him for some time."</p> + +<p>Skaggs's mind worked quickly. He remembered the Colonel's story. +Evidently the brother had something to do with the secret. "Now or +never," he thought. So he said boldly, "Yes, I have a message from your +brother."</p> + +<p>The man sprung up, clutching again at his breast. "You have? you have? +Give it to me. After four years he sends me a message! Give it to me!"</p> + +<p>The reporter looked steadily at the man. He knew that he was in his +power, that his very eagerness would prove traitor to his discretion.</p> + +<p>"Your brother bade me to say to you that you have a terrible secret, +that you bear it in your breast--there--there. I am his messenger. He +bids you to give it to me."</p> + +<p>Oakley had shrunken back as if he had been struck.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" he gasped, "no, no! I have no secret."</p> + +<p>The reporter moved nearer him. The old man shrunk against the wall, his +lips working convulsively and his hand tearing at his breast as Skaggs +drew nearer. He attempted to shriek, but his voice was husky and broke +off in a gasping whisper.</p> + +<p>"Give it to me, as your brother commands."</p> + +<p>"No, no, no! It is not his secret; it is mine. I must carry it here +always, do you hear? I must carry it till I die. Go away! Go away!"</p> + +<p>Skaggs seized him. Oakley struggled weakly, but he had no strength. The +reporter's hand sought the secret pocket. He felt a paper beneath his +fingers. Oakley gasped hoarsely as he drew it forth. Then raising his +voice gave one agonised cry, and sank to the floor frothing at the +mouth. At the cry rapid footsteps were heard in the hallway, and Mrs. +Oakley threw open the door.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"My message has somewhat upset your husband," was the cool answer.</p> + +<p>"But his breast is open. Your hand has been in his bosom. You have taken +something from him. Give it to me, or I shall call for help."</p> + +<p>Skaggs had not reckoned on this, but his wits came to the rescue.</p> + +<p>"You dare not call for help," he said, "or the world will know!"</p> + +<p>She wrung her hands helplessly, crying, "Oh, give it to me, give it to +me. We 've never done you any harm."</p> + +<p>"But you 've harmed some one else; that is enough."</p> + +<p>He moved towards the door, but she sprang in front of him with the +fierceness of a tigress protecting her young. She attacked him with +teeth and nails. She was pallid with fury, and it was all he could do to +protect himself and yet not injure her. Finally, when her anger had +taken her strength, he succeeded in getting out. He flew down the +hall-way and out of the front door, the woman's screams following him. +He did not pause to read the precious letter until he was safe in his +room at the Continental Hotel. Then he sprang to his feet, crying, +"Thank God! thank God! I was right, and the <i>Universe</i> shall have a +sensation. The brother is the thief, and Berry Hamilton is an innocent +man. Hurrah! Now, who is it that has come on a wild-goose chase? Who is +it that ought to handle his idea carefully? Heigho, Saunders my man, the +drinks 'll be on you, and old Skaggsy will have done some good in the +world."</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="XVII" name="XVII"></a>XVII.</h2><h2>A YELLOW JOURNAL</h2> + + +<p>Mr. Skaggs had no qualms of conscience about the manner in which he had +come by the damaging evidence against Maurice Oakley. It was enough for +him that he had it. A corporation, he argued, had no soul, and therefore +no conscience. How much less, then, should so small a part of a great +corporation as himself be expected to have them?</p> + +<p>He had his story. It was vivid, interesting, dramatic. It meant the +favour of his editor, a big thing for the <i>Universe</i>, and a fatter +lining for his own pocket. He sat down to put his discovery on paper +before he attempted anything else, although the impulse to celebrate was +very strong within him.</p> + +<p>He told his story well, with an eye to every one of its salient points. +He sent an alleged picture of Berry Hamilton as he had appeared at the +time of his arrest. He sent a picture of the Oakley home and of the +cottage where the servant and his family had been so happy. There was a +strong pen-picture of the man, Oakley, grown haggard and morose from +carrying his guilty secret, of his confusion when confronted with the +supposed knowledge of it. The old Southern city was described, and the +opinions of its residents in regard to the case given. It was +there--clear, interesting, and strong. One could see it all as if every +phase of it were being enacted before one's eyes. Skaggs surpassed +himself.</p> + +<p>When the editor first got hold of it he said "Huh!" over the opening +lines,--a few short sentences that instantly pricked the attention +awake. He read on with increasing interest. "This is good stuff," he +said at the last page. "Here 's a chance for the <i>Universe</i> to look into +the methods of Southern court proceedings. Here 's a chance for a +spread."</p> + +<p>The <i>Universe</i> had always claimed to be the friend of all poor and +oppressed humanity, and every once in a while it did something to +substantiate its claim, whereupon it stood off and said to the public, +"Look you what we have done, and behold how great we are, the friend of +the people!" The <i>Universe</i> was yellow. It was very so. But it had power +and keenness and energy. It never lost an opportunity to crow, and if +one was not forthcoming, it made one. In this way it managed to do a +considerable amount of good, and its yellowness became forgivable, even +commendable. In Skaggs's story the editor saw an opportunity for one of +its periodical philanthropies. He seized upon it. With headlines that +took half a page, and with cuts authentic and otherwise, the tale was +told, and the people of New York were greeted next morning with the +announcement of--</p> + + + <h3>"A Burning Shame!</h3> + +<h3> A Poor and Innocent Negro made to Suffer</h3> + +<h3> for a Rich Man's Crime!</h3> + +<h3> Great Exposé by the 'Universe'!</h3> + +<h3> A 'Universe' Reporter To the Rescue!</h3> + +<h3> The Whole Thing to Be Aired that the</h3> + +<h3> People may Know!"</h3> + + +<p>Then Skaggs received a telegram that made him leap for joy. He was to do +it. He was to go to the capital of the State. He was to beard the +Governor in his den, and he, with the force of a great paper behind him, +was to demand for the people the release of an innocent man. Then there +would be another write-up and much glory for him and more shekels. In an +hour after he had received his telegram he was on his way to the +Southern capital.</p> + +<p class="thoughtbreak">Meanwhile in the house of Maurice Oakley there were sad times. From the +moment that the master of the house had fallen to the floor in impotent +fear and madness there had been no peace within his doors. At first his +wife had tried to control him alone, and had humoured the wild babblings +with which he woke from his swoon. But these changed to shrieks and +cries and curses, and she was forced to throw open the doors so long +closed and call in help. The neighbours and her old friends went to her +assistance, and what the reporter's story had not done, the ravings of +the man accomplished; for, with a show of matchless cunning, he +continually clutched at his breast, laughed, and babbled his secret +openly. Even then they would have smothered it in silence, for the +honour of one of their best families; but too many ears had heard, and +then came the yellow journal bearing all the news in emblazoned +headlines.</p> + +<p>Colonel Saunders was distinctly hurt to think that his confidence had +been imposed on, and that he had been instrumental in bringing shame +upon a Southern name.</p> + +<p>"To think, suh," he said generally to the usual assembly of choice +spirits,--"to think of that man's being a reporter, suh, a common, +ordinary reporter, and that I sat and talked to him as if he were a +gentleman!"</p> + +<p>"You 're not to be blamed, Colonel," said old Horace Talbot. "You 've +done no more than any other gentleman would have done. The trouble is +that the average Northerner has no sense of honour, suh, no sense of +honour. If this particular man had had, he would have kept still, and +everything would have gone on smooth and quiet. Instead of that, a +distinguished family is brought to shame, and for what? To give a nigger +a few more years of freedom when, likely as not, he don't want it; and +Berry Hamilton's life in prison has proved nearer the ideal reached by +slavery than anything he has found since emancipation. Why, suhs, I +fancy I see him leaving his prison with tears of regret in his eyes."</p> + +<p>Old Horace was inanely eloquent for an hour over his pet theory. But +there were some in the town who thought differently about the matter, +and it was their opinions and murmurings that backed up Skaggs and made +it easier for him when at the capital he came into contact with the +official red tape.</p> + +<p>He was told that there were certain forms of procedure, and certain +times for certain things, but he hammered persistently away, the +murmurings behind him grew louder, while from his sanctum the editor of +the <i>Universe</i> thundered away against oppression and high-handed +tyranny. Other papers took it up and asked why this man should be +despoiled of his liberty any longer? And when it was replied that the +man had been convicted, and that the wheels of justice could not be +stopped or turned back by the letter of a romantic artist or the ravings +of a madman, there was a mighty outcry against the farce of justice that +had been played out in this man's case.</p> + +<p>The trial was reviewed; the evidence again brought up and examined. The +dignity of the State was threatened. At this time the State did the one +thing necessary to save its tottering reputation. It would not +surrender, but it capitulated, and Berry Hamilton was pardoned.</p> + +<p>Berry heard the news with surprise and a half-bitter joy. He had long +ago lost hope that justice would ever be done to him. He marvelled at +the word that was brought to him now, and he could not understand the +strange cordiality of the young white man who met him at the warden's +office. Five years of prison life had made a different man of him. He no +longer looked to receive kindness from his fellows, and he blinked at it +as he blinked at the unwonted brightness of the sun. The lines about his +mouth where the smiles used to gather had changed and grown stern with +the hopelessness of years. His lips drooped pathetically, and hard +treatment had given his eyes a lowering look. His hair, that had hardly +shown a white streak, was as white as Maurice Oakley's own. His +erstwhile quick wits were dulled and imbruted. He had lived like an ox, +working without inspiration or reward, and he came forth like an ox +from his stall. All the higher part of him he had left behind, dropping +it off day after day through the wearisome years. He had put behind him +the Berry Hamilton that laughed and joked and sang and believed, for +even his faith had become only a numbed fancy.</p> + +<p>"This is a very happy occasion, Mr. Hamilton," said Skaggs, shaking his +hand heartily.</p> + +<p>Berry did not answer. What had this slim, glib young man to do with him? +What had any white man to do with him after what he had suffered at +their hands?</p> + +<p>"You know you are to go New York with me?"</p> + +<p>"To New Yawk? What fu'?"</p> + +<p>Skaggs did not tell him that, now that the <i>Universe</i> had done its work, +it demanded the right to crow to its heart's satisfaction. He said only, +"You want to see your wife, of course?"</p> + +<p>Berry had forgotten Fannie, and for the first time his heart thrilled +within him at the thought of seeing her again.</p> + +<p>"I ain't hyeahed f'om my people fu' a long time. I did n't know what had +become of 'em. How 's Kit an' Joe?"</p> + +<p>"They 're all right," was the reply. Skaggs could n't tell him, in this +the first hour of his freedom. Let him have time to drink the sweetness +of that all in. There would be time afterwards to taste all of the +bitterness.</p> + +<p>Once in New York, he found that people wished to see him, some fools, +some philanthropists, and a great many reporters. He had to be +photographed--all this before he could seek those whom he longed to see. +They printed his picture as he was before he went to prison and as he +was now, a sort of before-and-after-taking comment, and in the morning +that it all appeared, when the <i>Universe</i> spread itself to tell the +public what it had done and how it had done it, they gave him his wife's +address.</p> + +<p>It would be better, they thought, for her to tell him herself all that +happened. No one of them was brave enough to stand to look in his eyes +when he asked for his son and daughter, and they shifted their +responsibility by pretending to themselves that they were doing it for +his own good: that the blow would fall more gently upon him coming from +her who had been his wife. Berry took the address and inquired his way +timidly, hesitatingly, but with a swelling heart, to the door of the +flat where Fannie lived.</p> + + + + +<hr /><h2><a id="XVIII" name="XVIII"></a>XVIII.</h2><h2>WHAT BERRY FOUND</h2> + + +<p>Had not Berry's years of prison life made him forget what little he knew +of reading, he might have read the name Gibson on the door-plate where +they told him to ring for his wife. But he knew nothing of what awaited +him as he confidently pulled the bell. Fannie herself came to the door. +The news the papers held had not escaped her, but she had suffered in +silence, hoping that Berry might be spared the pain of finding her. Now +he stood before her, and she knew him at a glance, in spite of his +haggard countenance.</p> + +<p>"Fannie," he said, holding out his arms to her, and all of the pain and +pathos of long yearning was in his voice, "don't you know me?"</p> + +<p>She shrank away from him, back in the hall-way.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, Be'y, I knows you. Come in."</p> + +<p>She led him through the passage-way and into her room, he following with +a sudden sinking at his heart. This was not the reception he had +expected from Fannie.</p> + +<p>When they were within the room he turned and held out his arms to her +again, but she did not notice them. "Why, is you 'shamed o' me?" he +asked brokenly.</p> + +<p>"'Shamed? No! Oh, Be'y," and she sank into a chair and began rocking to +and fro in her helpless grief.</p> + +<p>"What 's de mattah, Fannie? Ain't you glad to see me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, but you don't know nothin', do you? Dey lef' me to tell you?"</p> + +<p>"Lef' you to tell me? What 's de mattah? Is Joe or Kit daid? Tell me."</p> + +<p>"No, not daid. Kit dances on de stage fu' a livin', an', Be'y, she ain't +de gal she ust to be. Joe--Joe--Joe--he 's in pen'tentiary fu' killin' a +ooman."</p> + +<p>Berry started forward with a cry, "My Gawd! my Gawd! my little gal! my +boy!"</p> + +<p>"Dat ain't all," she went on dully, as if reciting a rote lesson; "I +ain't yo' wife no mo'. I 's ma'ied ag'in. Oh Be'y, Be'y, don't look at +me lak dat. I could n't he'p it. Kit an' Joe lef' me, an' dey said de +pen'tentiary divo'ced you an' me, an' dat you 'd nevah come out nohow. +Don't look at me lak dat, Be'y."</p> + +<p>"You ain't my wife no mo'? Hit 's a lie, a damn lie! You is my wife. I +'s a innocent man. No pen'tentiay kin tek you erway f'om me. Hit 's +enough what dey 've done to my chillen." He rushed forward and seized +her by the arm. "Dey sha'n't do no mo', by Gawd! dey sha'n't, I say!" +His voice had risen to a fierce roar, like that of a hurt beast, and he +shook her by the arm as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't, Be'y, don't, you hu't me. I could n't he'p it."</p> + +<p>He glared at her for a moment, and then the real force of the situation +came full upon him, and he bowed his head in his hands and wept like a +child. The great sobs came up and stuck in his throat.</p> + +<p>She crept up to him fearfully and laid her hand on his head.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, Be'y," she said; "I done wrong, but I loves you yit."</p> + +<p>He seized her in his arms and held her tightly until he could control +himself. Then he asked weakly, "Well, what am I goin' to do?"</p> + +<p>"I do' know, Be'y, 'ceptin' dat you 'll have to leave me."</p> + +<p>"I won't! I 'll never leave you again," he replied doggedly.</p> + +<p>"But, Be'y, you mus'. You 'll only mek it ha'der on me, an' Gibson 'll +beat me ag'in."</p> + +<p>"Ag'in!"</p> + +<p>She hung her head: "Yes."</p> + +<p>He gripped himself hard.</p> + +<p>"Why cain't you come on off wid me, Fannie? You was mine fus'."</p> + +<p>"I could n't. He would fin' me anywhaih I went to."</p> + +<p>"Let him fin' you. You 'll be wid me, an' we 'll settle it, him an' +me."</p> + +<p>"I want to, but oh, I can't, I can't," she wailed. "Please go now, Be'y, +befo' he gits home. He 's mad anyhow, 'cause you 're out."</p> + +<p>Berry looked at her hard, and then said in a dry voice, "An' so I got to +go an' leave you to him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you mus'; I 'm his'n now."</p> + +<p>He turned to the door, murmuring, "My wife gone, Kit a nobody, an' Joe, +little Joe, a murderer, an' then I--I--ust to pray to Gawd an' call him +'Ouah Fathah.'" He laughed hoarsely. It sounded like nothing Fannie had +ever heard before.</p> + +<p>"Don't, Be'y, don't say dat. Maybe we don't un'erstan'."</p> + +<p>Her faith still hung by a slender thread, but his had given way in that +moment.</p> + +<p>"No, we don't un'erstan'," he laughed as he went out of the door. "We +don't un'erstan'."</p> + +<p>He staggered down the steps, blinded by his emotions, and set his face +towards the little lodging that he had taken temporarily. There seemed +nothing left in life for him to do. Yet he knew that he must work to +live, although the effort seemed hardly worth while. He remembered now +that the <i>Universe</i> had offered him the under janitorship in its +building. He would go and take it, and some day, perhaps--He was not +quite sure what the "perhaps" meant. But as his mind grew clearer he +came to know, for a sullen, fierce anger was smouldering in his heart +against the man who through lies had stolen his wife from him. It was +anger that came slowly, but gained in fierceness as it grew.</p> + +<p>Yes, that was it, he would kill Gibson. It was no worse than his present +state. Then it would be father and son murderers. They would hang him or +send him back to prison. Neither would be hard now. He laughed to +himself.</p> + +<p>And this was what they had let him out of prison for? To find out all +this. Why had they not left him there to die in ignorance? What had he +to do with all these people who gave him sympathy? What did he want of +their sympathy? Could they give him back one tithe of what he had lost? +Could they restore to him his wife or his son or his daughter, his quiet +happiness or his simple faith?</p> + +<p>He went to work for the <i>Universe</i>, but night after night, armed, he +patrolled the sidewalk in front of Fannie's house. He did not know +Gibson, but he wanted to see them together. Then he would strike. His +vigils kept him from his bed, but he went to the next morning's work +with no weariness. The hope of revenge sustained him, and he took a +savage joy in the thought that he should be the dispenser of justice to +at least one of those who had wounded him.</p> + +<p>Finally he grew impatient and determined to wait no longer, but to seek +his enemy in his own house. He approached the place cautiously and went +up the steps. His hand touched the bell-pull. He staggered back.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my Gawd!" he said.</p> + +<p>There was crape on Fannie's bell. His head went round and he held to the +door for support. Then he turned the knob and the door opened. He went +noiselessly in. At the door of Fannie's room he halted, sick with fear. +He knocked, a step sounded within, and his wife's face looked out upon +him. He could have screamed aloud with relief.</p> + +<p>"It ain't you!" he whispered huskily.</p> + +<p>"No, it 's him. He was killed in a fight at the race-track. Some o' his +frinds are settin' up. Come in."</p> + +<p>He went in, a wild, strange feeling surging at his heart. She showed him +into the death-chamber.</p> + +<p>As he stood and looked down upon the face of his enemy, still, cold, and +terrible in death, the recognition of how near he had come to crime +swept over him, and all his dead faith sprang into new life in a +glorious resurrection. He stood with clasped hands, and no word passed +his lips. But his heart was crying, "Thank God! thank God! this man's +blood is not on my hands."</p> + +<p>The gamblers who were sitting up with the dead wondered who the old fool +was who looked at their silent comrade and then raised his eyes as if in +prayer.</p> + +<p class="thoughtbreak">When Gibson was laid away, there were no formalities between Berry and +his wife; they simply went back to each other. New York held nothing for +them now but sad memories. Kit was on the road, and the father could not +bear to see his son; so they turned their faces southward, back to the +only place they could call home. Surely the people could not be cruel to +them now, and even if they were, they felt that after what they had +endured no wound had power to give them pain.</p> + +<p>Leslie Oakley heard of their coming, and with her own hands re-opened +and refurnished the little cottage in the yard for them. There the +white-haired woman begged them to spend the rest of their days and be in +peace and comfort. It was the only amend she could make. As much to +satisfy her as to settle themselves, they took the cottage, and many a +night thereafter they sat together with clasped hands listening to the +shrieks of the madman across the yard and thinking of what he had +brought to them and to himself.</p> + +<p>It was not a happy life, but it was all that was left to them, and they +took it up without complaint, for they knew they were powerless against +some Will infinitely stronger than their own.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Sport of the Gods, by Paul Laurence Dunbar + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPORT OF THE GODS *** + +***** This file should be named 17854-h.htm or 17854-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/8/5/17854/ + +Produced by Robert Ledger, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sport of the Gods + +Author: Paul Laurence Dunbar + +Release Date: February 25, 2006 [EBook #17854] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPORT OF THE GODS *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Ledger, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +THE SPORT OF THE GODS + + by + +PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR + + +Author of "Lyrics of Lowly Life," "Poems of Cabin and +Field," "Candle-Lightin' Time," "The Fanatics," etc. + +Originally published in 1902 + + + + +Contents + + +I. The Hamiltons + +II. A Farewell Dinner + +III. The Theft + +IV. From a Clear Sky + +V. The Justice of Men + +VI. Outcasts + +VII. In New York + +VIII. An Evening Out + +IX. His Heart's Desire + +X. A Visitor from Home + +XI. Broken Hopes + +XII. "All the World's a Stage" + +XIII. The Oakleys + +XIV. Frankenstein + +XV. "Dear, Damned, Delightful Town" + +XVI. Skaggs's Theory + +XVII. A Yellow Journal + +XVIII. What Berry Found + + + + +I + +THE HAMILTONS + + +Fiction has said so much in regret of the old days when there were +plantations and overseers and masters and slaves, that it was good to +come upon such a household as Berry Hamilton's, if for no other reason +than that it afforded a relief from the monotony of tiresome iteration. + +The little cottage in which he lived with his wife, Fannie, who was +housekeeper to the Oakleys, and his son and daughter, Joe and Kit, sat +back in the yard some hundred paces from the mansion of his employer. It +was somewhat in the manner of the old cabin in the quarters, with which +usage as well as tradition had made both master and servant familiar. +But, unlike the cabin of the elder day, it was a neatly furnished, +modern house, the home of a typical, good-living negro. For twenty years +Berry Hamilton had been butler for Maurice Oakley. He was one of the +many slaves who upon their accession to freedom had not left the South, +but had wandered from place to place in their own beloved section, +waiting, working, and struggling to rise with its rehabilitated +fortunes. + +The first faint signs of recovery were being seen when he came to +Maurice Oakley as a servant. Through thick and thin he remained with +him, and when the final upward tendency of his employer began his +fortunes had increased in like manner. When, having married, Oakley +bought the great house in which he now lived, he left the little +servant's cottage in the yard, for, as he said laughingly, "There is no +telling when Berry will be following my example and be taking a wife +unto himself." + +His joking prophecy came true very soon. Berry had long had a tenderness +for Fannie, the housekeeper. As she retained her post under the new Mrs. +Oakley, and as there was a cottage ready to his hand, it promised to be +cheaper and more convenient all around to get married. Fannie was +willing, and so the matter was settled. + +Fannie had never regretted her choice, nor had Berry ever had cause to +curse his utilitarian ideas. The stream of years had flowed pleasantly +and peacefully with them. Their little sorrows had come, but their joys +had been many. + +As time went on, the little cottage grew in comfort. It was replenished +with things handed down from "the house" from time to time and with +others bought from the pair's earnings. + +Berry had time for his lodge, and Fannie time to spare for her own house +and garden. Flowers bloomed in the little plot in front and behind it; +vegetables and greens testified to the housewife's industry. + +Over the door of the little house a fine Virginia creeper bent and fell +in graceful curves, and a cluster of insistent morning-glories clung in +summer about its stalwart stock. + +It was into this bower of peace and comfort that Joe and Kitty were +born. They brought a new sunlight into the house and a new joy to the +father's and mother's hearts. Their early lives were pleasant and +carefully guarded. They got what schooling the town afforded, but both +went to work early, Kitty helping her mother and Joe learning the trade +of barber. + +Kit was the delight of her mother's life. She was a pretty, cheery +little thing, and could sing like a lark. Joe too was of a cheerful +disposition, but from scraping the chins of aristocrats came to imbibe +some of their ideas, and rather too early in life bid fair to be a +dandy. But his father encouraged him, for, said he, "It 's de p'opah +thing fu' a man what waits on quality to have quality mannahs an' to +waih quality clothes." + +"'T ain't no use to be a-humo'in' dat boy too much, Be'y," Fannie had +replied, although she did fully as much "humo'in'" as her husband; "hit +sho' do mek' him biggety, an' a biggety po' niggah is a 'bomination +befo' de face of de Lawd; but I know 't ain't no use a-talkin' to you, +fu' you plum boun' up in dat Joe." + +Her own eyes would follow the boy lovingly and proudly even as she +chided. She could not say very much, either, for Berry always had the +reply that she was spoiling Kit out of all reason. The girl did have the +prettiest clothes of any of her race in the town, and when she was to +sing for the benefit of the A. M. E. church or for the benefit of her +father's society, the Tribe of Benjamin, there was nothing too good for +her to wear. In this too they were aided and abetted by Mrs. Oakley, who +also took a lively interest in the girl. + +So the two doting parents had their chats and their jokes at each +other's expense and went bravely on, doing their duties and spoiling +their children much as white fathers and mothers are wont to do. + +What the less fortunate negroes of the community said of them and their +offspring is really not worth while. Envy has a sharp tongue, and when +has not the aristocrat been the target for the plebeian's sneers? + +Joe and Kit were respectively eighteen and sixteen at the time when the +preparations for Maurice Oakley's farewell dinner to his brother Francis +were agitating the whole Hamilton household. All of them had a hand in +the work: Joe had shaved the two men; Kit had helped Mrs. Oakley's maid; +the mother had fretted herself weak over the shortcomings of a cook that +had been in the family nearly as long as herself, while Berry was stern +and dignified in anticipation of the glorious figure he was to make in +serving. + +When all was ready, peace again settled upon the Hamiltons. Mrs. +Hamilton, in the whitest of white aprons, prepared to be on hand to +annoy the cook still more; Kit was ready to station herself where she +could view the finery; Joe had condescended to promise to be home in +time to eat some of the good things, and Berry--Berry was gorgeous in +his evening suit with the white waistcoat, as he directed the nimble +waiters hither and thither. + + + + +II + +A FAREWELL DINNER + + +Maurice Oakley was not a man of sudden or violent enthusiasms. +Conservatism was the quality that had been the foundation of his +fortunes at a time when the disruption of the country had involved most +of the men of his region in ruin. + +Without giving any one ground to charge him with being lukewarm or +renegade to his cause, he had yet so adroitly managed his affairs that +when peace came he was able quickly to recover much of the ground lost +during the war. With a rare genius for adapting himself to new +conditions, he accepted the changed order of things with a passive +resignation, but with a stern determination to make the most out of any +good that might be in it. + +It was a favourite remark of his that there must be some good in every +system, and it was the duty of the citizen to find out that good and +make it pay. He had done this. His house, his reputation, his +satisfaction, were all evidences that he had succeeded. + +A childless man, he bestowed upon his younger brother, Francis, the +enthusiasm he would have given to a son. His wife shared with her +husband this feeling for her brother-in-law, and with him played the +role of parent, which had otherwise been denied her. + +It was true that Francis Oakley was only a half-brother to Maurice, the +son of a second and not too fortunate marriage, but there was no halving +of the love which the elder man had given to him from childhood up. + +At the first intimation that Francis had artistic ability, his brother +had placed him under the best masters in America, and later, when the +promise of his youth had begun to blossom, he sent him to Paris, +although the expenditure just at that time demanded a sacrifice which +might have been the ruin of Maurice's own career. Francis's promise had +never come to entire fulfilment. He was always trembling on the verge of +a great success without quite plunging into it. Despite the joy which +his presence gave his brother and sister-in-law, most of his time was +spent abroad, where he could find just the atmosphere that suited his +delicate, artistic nature. After a visit of two months he was about +returning to Paris for a stay of five years. At last he was going to +apply himself steadily and try to be less the dilettante. + +The company which Maurice Oakley brought together to say good-bye to his +brother on this occasion was drawn from the best that this fine old +Southern town afforded. There were colonels there at whose titles and +the owners' rights to them no one could laugh; there were brilliant +women there who had queened it in Richmond, Baltimore, Louisville, and +New Orleans, and every Southern capital under the old regime, and there +were younger ones there of wit and beauty who were just beginning to +hold their court. For Francis was a great favourite both with men and +women. He was a handsome man, tall, slender, and graceful. He had the +face and brow of a poet, a pallid face framed in a mass of dark hair. +There was a touch of weakness in his mouth, but this was shaded and half +hidden by a full mustache that made much forgivable to beauty-loving +eyes. + +It was generally conceded that Mrs. Oakley was a hostess whose guests +had no awkward half-hour before dinner. No praise could be higher than +this, and to-night she had no need to exert herself to maintain this +reputation. Her brother-in-law was the life of the assembly; he had wit +and daring, and about him there was just that hint of charming danger +that made him irresistible to women. The guests heard the dinner +announced with surprise,--an unusual thing, except in this house. + +Both Maurice Oakley and his wife looked fondly at the artist as he went +in with Claire Lessing. He was talking animatedly to the girl, having +changed the general trend of the conversation to a manner and tone +directed more particularly to her. While she listened to him, her face +glowed and her eyes shone with a light that every man could not bring +into them. + +As Maurice and his wife followed him with their gaze, the same thought +was in their minds, and it had not just come to them, Why could not +Francis marry Claire Lessing and settle in America, instead of going +back ever and again to that life in the Latin Quarter? They did not +believe that it was a bad life or a dissipated one, but from the little +that they had seen of it when they were in Paris, it was at least a bit +too free and unconventional for their traditions. There were, too, +temptations which must assail any man of Francis's looks and talents. +They had perfect faith in the strength of his manhood, of course; but +could they have had their way, it would have been their will to hedge +him about so that no breath of evil invitation could have come nigh to +him. + +But this younger brother, this half ward of theirs, was an unruly +member. He talked and laughed, rode and walked, with Claire Lessing with +the same free abandon, the same show of uninterested good comradeship, +that he had used towards her when they were boy and girl together. There +was not a shade more of warmth or self-consciousness in his manner +towards her than there had been fifteen years before. In fact, there was +less, for there had been a time, when he was six and Claire three, that +Francis, with a boldness that the lover of maturer years tries vainly to +attain, had announced to Claire that he was going to marry her. But he +had never renewed this declaration when it came time that it would carry +weight with it. + +They made a fine picture as they sat together to-night. One seeing them +could hardly help thinking on the instant that they were made for each +other. Something in the woman's face, in her expression perhaps, +supplied a palpable lack in the man. The strength of her mouth and chin +helped the weakness of his. She was the sort of woman who, if ever he +came to a great moral crisis in his life, would be able to save him if +she were near. And yet he was going away from her, giving up the pearl +that he had only to put out his hand to take. + +Some of these thoughts were in the minds of the brother and sister now. + +"Five years does seem a long while," Francis was saying, "but if a man +accomplishes anything, after all, it seems only a short time to look +back upon." + +"All time is short to look back upon. It is the looking forward to it +that counts. It does n't, though, with a man, I suppose. He's doing +something all the while." + +"Yes, a man is always doing something, even if only waiting; but +waiting is such unheroic business." + +"That is the part that usually falls to a woman's lot. I have no doubt +that some dark-eyed mademoiselle is waiting for you now." + +Francis laughed and flushed hotly. Claire noted the flush and wondered +at it. Had she indeed hit upon the real point? Was that the reason that +he was so anxious to get back to Paris? The thought struck a chill +through her gaiety. She did not want to be suspicious, but what was the +cause of that tell-tale flush? He was not a man easily disconcerted; +then why so to-night? But her companion talked on with such innocent +composure that she believed herself mistaken as to the reason for his +momentary confusion. + +Someone cried gayly across the table to her: "Oh, Miss Claire, you will +not dare to talk with such little awe to our friend when he comes back +with his ribbons and his medals. Why, we shall all have to bow to you, +Frank!" + +"You 're wronging me, Esterton," said Francis. "No foreign decoration +could ever be to me as much as the flower of approval from the fair +women of my own State." + +"Hear!" cried the ladies. + +"Trust artists and poets to pay pretty compliments, and this wily friend +of mine pays his at my expense." + +"A good bit of generalship, that, Frank," an old military man broke in. +"Esterton opened the breach and you at once galloped in. That 's the +highest art of war." + +Claire was looking at her companion. Had he meant the approval of the +women, or was it one woman that he cared for? Had the speech had a +hidden meaning for her? She could never tell. She could not understand +this man who had been so much to her for so long, and yet did not seem +to know it; who was full of romance and fire and passion, and yet looked +at her beauty with the eyes of a mere comrade. She sighed as she rose +with the rest of the women to leave the table. + +The men lingered over their cigars. The wine was old and the stories +new. What more could they ask? There was a strong glow in Francis +Oakley's face, and his laugh was frequent and ringing. Some discussion +came up which sent him running up to his room for a bit of evidence. +When he came down it was not to come directly to the dining-room. He +paused in the hall and despatched a servant to bring his brother to him. + +Maurice found him standing weakly against the railing of the stairs. +Something in his air impressed his brother strangely. + +"What is it, Francis?" he questioned, hurrying to him. + +"I have just discovered a considerable loss," was the reply in a grieved +voice. + +"If it is no worse than loss, I am glad; but what is it?" + +"Every cent of money that I had to secure my letter of credit is gone +from my bureau." + +"What? When did it disappear?" + +"I went to my bureau to-night for something and found the money gone; +then I remembered that when I opened it two days ago I must have left +the key in the lock, as I found it to-night." + +"It 's a bad business, but don't let 's talk of it now. Come, let 's go +back to our guests. Don't look so cut up about it, Frank, old man. It is +n't as bad as it might be, and you must n't show a gloomy face +to-night." + +The younger man pulled himself together, and re-entered the room with +his brother. In a few minutes his gaiety had apparently returned. + +When they rejoined the ladies, even their quick eyes could detect in his +demeanour no trace of the annoying thing that had occurred. His face did +not change until, with a wealth of fervent congratulations, he had bade +the last guest good-bye. + +Then he turned to his brother. "When Leslie is in bed, come into the +library. I will wait for you there," he said, and walked sadly away. + +"Poor, foolish Frank," mused his brother, "as if the loss could matter +to him." + + + + +III + +THE THEFT + + +Frank was very pale when his brother finally came to him at the +appointed place. He sat limply in his chair, his eyes fixed upon the +floor. + +"Come, brace up now, Frank, and tell me about it." + +At the sound of his brother's voice he started and looked up as though +he had been dreaming. + +"I don't know what you 'll think of me, Maurice," he said; "I have never +before been guilty of such criminal carelessness." + +"Don't stop to accuse yourself. Our only hope in this matter lies in +prompt action. Where was the money?" + +"In the oak cabinet and lying in the bureau drawer. Such a thing as a +theft seemed so foreign to this place that I was never very particular +about the box. But I did not know until I went to it to-night that the +last time I had opened it I had forgotten to take the key out. It all +flashed over me in a second when I saw it shining there. Even then I did +n't suspect anything. You don't know how I felt to open that cabinet and +find all my money gone. It 's awful." + +"Don't worry. How much was there in all?" + +"Nine hundred and eighty-six dollars, most of which, I am ashamed to +say, I had accepted from you." + +"You have no right to talk that way, Frank; you know I do not begrudge a +cent you want. I have never felt that my father did quite right in +leaving me the bulk of the fortune; but we won't discuss that now. What +I want you to understand, though, is that the money is yours as well as +mine, and you are always welcome to it." + +The artist shook his head. "No, Maurice," he said, "I can accept no +more from you. I have already used up all my own money and too much of +yours in this hopeless fight. I don't suppose I was ever cut out for an +artist, or I 'd have done something really notable in this time, and +would not be a burden upon those who care for me. No, I 'll give up +going to Paris and find some work to do." + +"Frank, Frank, be silent. This is nonsense, Give up your art? You shall +not do it. You shall go to Paris as usual. Leslie and I have perfect +faith in you. You shall not give up on account of this misfortune. What +are the few paltry dollars to me or to you?" + +"Nothing, nothing, I know. It is n't the money, it 's the principle of +the thing." + +"Principle be hanged! You go back to Paris to-morrow, just as you had +planned. I do not ask it, I command it." + +The younger man looked up quickly. + +"Pardon me, Frank, for using those words and at such a time. You know +how near my heart your success lies, and to hear you talk of giving it +all up makes me forget myself. Forgive me, but you 'll go back, won't +you?" + +"You are too good, Maurice," said Frank impulsively, "and I will go +back, and I 'll try to redeem myself." + +"There is no redeeming of yourself to do, my dear boy; all you have to +do is to mature yourself. We 'll have a detective down and see what we +can do in this matter." + +Frank gave a scarcely perceptible start. "I do so hate such things," he +said; "and, anyway, what 's the use? They 'll never find out where the +stuff went to." + +"Oh, you need not be troubled in this matter. I know that such things +must jar on your delicate nature. But I am a plain hard-headed business +man, and I can attend to it without distaste." + +"But I hate to shove everything unpleasant off on you, It 's what I 've +been doing all my life." + +"Never mind that. Now tell me, who was the last person you remember in +your room?" + +"Oh, Esterton was up there awhile before dinner. But he was not alone +two minutes." + +"Why, he would be out of the question anyway. Who else?" + +"Hamilton was up yesterday." + +"Alone?" + +"Yes, for a while. His boy, Joe, shaved me, and Jack was up for a while +brushing my clothes." + +"Then it lies between Jack and Joe?" + +Frank hesitated. + +"Neither one was left alone, though." + +"Then only Hamilton and Esterton have been alone for any time in your +room since you left the key in your cabinet?" + +"Those are the only ones of whom I know anything. What others went in +during the day, of course, I know nothing about. It could n't have been +either Esterton or Hamilton." + +"Not Esterton, no." + +"And Hamilton is beyond suspicion." + +"No servant is beyond suspicion." + +"I would trust Hamilton anywhere," said Frank stoutly, "and with +anything." + +"That 's noble of you, Frank, and I would have done the same, but we +must remember that we are not in the old days now. The negroes are +becoming less faithful and less contented, and more 's the pity, and a +deal more ambitious, although I have never had any unfaithfulness on the +part of Hamilton to complain of before." + +"Then do not condemn him now." + +"I shall not condemn any one until I have proof positive of his guilt or +such clear circumstantial evidence that my reason is satisfied." + +"I do not believe that you will ever have that against old Hamilton." + +"This spirit of trust does you credit, Frank, and I very much hope that +you may be right. But as soon as a negro like Hamilton learns the value +of money and begins to earn it, at the same time he begins to covet some +easy and rapid way of securing it. The old negro knew nothing of the +value of money. When he stole, he stole hams and bacon and chickens. +These were his immediate necessities and the things he valued. The +present laughs at this tendency without knowing the cause. The present +negro resents the laugh, and he has learned to value other things than +those which satisfy his belly." + +Frank looked bored. + +"But pardon me for boring you. I know you want to go to bed. Go and +leave everything to me." + +The young man reluctantly withdrew, and Maurice went to the telephone +and rung up the police station. + +As Maurice had said, he was a plain, hard-headed business man, and it +took very few words for him to put the Chief of Police in possession of +the principal facts of the case. A detective was detailed to take +charge of the case, and was started immediately, so that he might be +upon the ground as soon after the commission of the crime as possible. + +When he came he insisted that if he was to do anything he must question +the robbed man and search his room at once. Oakley protested, but the +detective was adamant. Even now the presence in the room of a man +uninitiated into the mysteries of criminal methods might be destroying +the last vestige of a really important clue. The master of the house had +no alternative save to yield. Together they went to the artist's room. A +light shone out through the crack under the door. + +"I am sorry to disturb you again, Frank, but may we come in?" + +"Who is with you?" + +"The detective." + +"I did not know he was to come to-night." + +"The chief thought it better." + +"All right in a moment." + +There was a sound of moving around, and in a short time the young +fellow, partly undressed, opened the door. + +To the detective's questions he answered in substance what he had told +before. He also brought out the cabinet. It was a strong oak box, +uncarven, but bound at the edges with brass. The key was still in the +lock, where Frank had left it on discovering his loss. They raised the +lid. The cabinet contained two compartments, one for letters and a +smaller one for jewels and trinkets. + +"When you opened this cabinet, your money was gone?" + +"Yes." + +"Were any of your papers touched?" + +"No." + +"How about your jewels?" + +"I have but few and they were elsewhere." + +The detective examined the room carefully, its approaches, and the +hall-ways without. He paused knowingly at a window that overlooked the +flat top of a porch. + +"Do you ever leave this window open?" + +"It is almost always so." + +"Is this porch on the front of the house?" + +"No, on the side." + +"What else is out that way?" + +Frank and Maurice looked at each other. The younger man hesitated and +put his hand to his head. Maurice answered grimly, "My butler's cottage +is on that side and a little way back." + +"Uh huh! and your butler is, I believe, the Hamilton whom the young +gentleman mentioned some time ago." + +"Yes." + +Frank's face was really very white now. The detective nodded again. + +"I think I have a clue," he said simply. "I will be here again to-morrow +morning." + +"But I shall be gone," said Frank. + +"You will hardly be needed, anyway." + +The artist gave a sigh of relief. He hated to be involved in unpleasant +things. He went as far as the outer door with his brother and the +detective. As he bade the officer good-night and hurried up the hall, +Frank put his hand to his head again with a convulsive gesture, as if +struck by a sudden pain. + +"Come, come, Frank, you must take a drink now and go to bed," said +Oakley. + +"I am completely unnerved." + +"I know it, and I am no less shocked than you. But we 've got to face it +like men." + +They passed into the dining-room, where Maurice poured out some brandy +for his brother and himself. "Who would have thought it?" he asked, as +he tossed his own down. + +"Not I. I had hoped against hope up until the last that it would turn +out to be a mistake." + +"Nothing angers me so much as being deceived by the man I have helped +and trusted. I should feel the sting of all this much less if the thief +had come from the outside, broken in, and robbed me, but this, after all +these years, is too low." + +"Don't be hard on a man, Maurice; one never knows what prompts him to a +deed. And this evidence is all circumstantial." + +"It is plain enough for me. You are entirely too kind-hearted, Frank. +But I see that this thing has worn you out. You must not stand here +talking. Go to bed, for you must be fresh for to-morrow morning's +journey to New York." + +Frank Oakley turned away towards his room. His face was haggard, and he +staggered as he walked. His brother looked after him with a pitying and +affectionate gaze. + +"Poor fellow," he said, "he is so delicately constructed that he cannot +stand such shocks as these;" and then he added: "To think of that black +hound's treachery! I 'll give him all that the law sets down for him." + +He found Mrs. Oakley asleep when he reached the room, but he awakened +her to tell her the story. She was horror-struck. It was hard to have to +believe this awful thing of an old servant, but she agreed with him that +Hamilton must be made an example of when the time came. Before that, +however, he must not know that he was suspected. + +They fell asleep, he with thoughts of anger and revenge, and she grieved +and disappointed. + + + + +IV + +FROM A CLEAR SKY + + +The inmates of the Oakley house had not been long in their beds before +Hamilton was out of his and rousing his own little household. + +"You, Joe," he called to his son, "git up f'om daih an' come right +hyeah. You got to he'p me befo' you go to any shop dis mo'nin'. You, +Kitty, stir yo' stumps, miss. I know yo' ma 's a-dressin' now. Ef she +ain't, I bet I 'll be aftah huh in a minute, too. You all layin' 'roun', +snoozin' w'en you all des' pint'ly know dis is de mo'nin' Mistah Frank +go 'way f'om hyeah." + +It was a cool Autumn morning, fresh and dew-washed. The sun was just +rising, and a cool clear breeze was blowing across the land. The blue +smoke from the "house," where the fire was already going, whirled +fantastically over the roofs like a belated ghost. It was just the +morning to doze in comfort, and so thought all of Berry's household +except himself. Loud was the complaining as they threw themselves out of +bed. They maintained that it was an altogether unearthly hour to get up. +Even Mrs. Hamilton added her protest, until she suddenly remembered what +morning it was, when she hurried into her clothes and set about getting +the family's breakfast. + +The good-humour of all of them returned when they were seated about +their table with some of the good things of the night before set out, +and the talk ran cheerily around. + +"I do declaih," said Hamilton, "you all 's as bad as dem white people +was las' night. De way dey waded into dat food was a caution." He +chuckled with delight at the recollection. + +"I reckon dat 's what dey come fu'. I was n't payin' so much 'tention to +what dey eat as to de way dem women was dressed. Why, Mis' Jedge Hill +was des' mo'n go'geous." + +"Oh, yes, ma, an' Miss Lessing was n't no ways behin' her," put in +Kitty. + +Joe did not condescend to join in the conversation, but contented +himself with devouring the good things and aping the manners of the +young men whom he knew had been among last night's guests. + +"Well, I got to be goin'," said Berry, rising. "There 'll be early +breakfas' at de 'house' dis mo'nin', so 's Mistah Frank kin ketch de +fus' train." + +He went out cheerily to his work. No shadow of impending disaster +depressed his spirits. No cloud obscured his sky. He was a simple, easy +man, and he saw nothing in the manner of the people whom he served that +morning at breakfast save a natural grief at parting from each other. He +did not even take the trouble to inquire who the strange white man was +who hung about the place. + +When it came time for the young man to leave, with the privilege of an +old servitor Berry went up to him to bid him good-bye. He held out his +hand to him, and with a glance at his brother, Frank took it and shook +it cordially. "Good-bye, Berry," he said. Maurice could hardly restrain +his anger at the sight, but his wife was moved to tears at her +brother-in-law's generosity. + +The last sight they saw as the carriage rolled away towards the station +was Berry standing upon the steps waving a hearty farewell and +god-speed. + +"How could you do it, Frank?" gasped his brother, as soon as they had +driven well out of hearing. + +"Hush, Maurice," said Mrs. Oakley gently; "I think it was very noble of +him." + +"Oh, I felt sorry for the poor fellow," was Frank's reply. "Promise me +you won't be too hard on him, Maurice. Give him a little scare and let +him go. He 's possibly buried the money, anyhow." + +"I shall deal with him as he deserves." + +The young man sighed and was silent the rest of the way. + +"Whether I fail or succeed, you will always think well of me, Maurice?" +he said in parting; "and if I don't come up to your expectations, +well--forgive me--that 's all." + +His brother wrung his hand. "You will always come up to my expectations, +Frank," he said. "Won't he, Leslie?" + +"He will always be our Frank, our good, generous-hearted, noble boy. God +bless him!" + +The young fellow bade them a hearty good-bye, and they, knowing what his +feelings must be, spared him the prolonging of the strain. They waited +in the carriage, and he waved to them as the train rolled out of the +station. + +"He seems to be sad at going," said Mrs. Oakley. + +"Poor fellow, the affair of last night has broken him up considerably, +but I 'll make Berry pay for every pang of anxiety that my brother has +suffered." + +"Don't be revengeful, Maurice; you know what brother Frank asked of +you." + +"He is gone and will never know what happens, so I may be as revengeful +as I wish." + +The detective was waiting on the lawn when Maurice Oakley returned. They +went immediately to the library, Oakley walking with the firm, hard +tread of a man who is both exasperated and determined, and the officer +gliding along with the cat-like step which is one of the attributes of +his profession. + +"Well?" was the impatient man's question as soon as the door closed upon +them. + +"I have some more information that may or may not be of importance." + +"Out with it; maybe I can tell." + +"First, let me ask if you had any reason to believe that your butler had +any resources of his own, say to the amount of three or four hundred +dollars?" + +"Certainly not. I pay him thirty dollars a month, and his wife fifteen +dollars, and with keeping up his lodges and the way he dresses that +girl, he can't save very much." + +"You know that he has money in the bank?" + +"No." + +"Well, he has. Over eight hundred dollars." + +"What? Berry? It must be the pickings of years." + +"And yesterday it was increased by five hundred more." + +"The scoundrel!" + +"How was your brother's money, in bills?" + +"It was in large bills and gold, with some silver." + +"Berry's money was almost all in bills of a small denomination and +silver." + +"A poor trick; it could easily have been changed." + +"Not such a sum without exciting comment." + +"He may have gone to several places." + +"But he had only a day to do it in." + +"Then some one must have been his accomplice." + +"That remains to be proven." + +"Nothing remains to be proven. Why, it 's as clear as day that the money +he has is the result of a long series of peculations, and that this last +is the result of his first large theft." + +"That must be made clear to the law." + +"It shall be." + +"I should advise, though, no open proceedings against this servant until +further evidence to establish his guilt is found." + +"If the evidence satisfies me, it must be sufficient to satisfy any +ordinary jury. I demand his immediate arrest." + +"As you will, sir. Will you have him called here and question him, or +will you let me question him at once?" + +"Yes." + +Oakley struck the bell, and Berry himself answered it. + +"You 're just the man we want," said Oakley, shortly. + +Berry looked astonished. + +"Shall I question him," asked the officer, "or will you?" + +"I will. Berry, you deposited five hundred dollars at the bank +yesterday?" + +"Well, suh, Mistah Oakley," was the grinning reply, "ef you ain't de +beatenes' man to fin' out things I evah seen." + +The employer half rose from his chair. His face was livid with anger. +But at a sign from the detective he strove to calm himself. + +"You had better let me talk to Berry, Mr. Oakley," said the officer. + +Oakley nodded. Berry was looking distressed and excited. He seemed not +to understand it at all. + +"Berry," the officer pursued, "you admit having deposited five hundred +dollars in the bank yesterday?" + +"Sut'ny. Dey ain't no reason why I should n't admit it, 'ceptin' +erroun' ermong dese jealous niggahs." + +"Uh huh! well, now, where did you get this money?" + +"Why, I wo'ked fu' it, o' co'se, whaih you s'pose I got it? 'T ain't +drappin' off trees, I reckon, not roun' dis pa't of de country." + +"You worked for it? You must have done a pretty big job to have got so +much money all in a lump?" + +"But I did n't git it in a lump. Why, man, I 've been savin' dat money +fu mo'n fo' yeahs." + +"More than four years? Why did n't you put it in the bank as you got +it?" + +"Why, mos'ly it was too small, an' so I des' kep' it in a ol' sock. I +tol' Fannie dat some day ef de bank did n't bus' wid all de res' I had, +I 'd put it in too. She was allus sayin' it was too much to have layin' +'roun' de house. But I des' tol' huh dat no robber was n't goin' to +bothah de po' niggah down in de ya'd wid de rich white man up at de +house. But fin'lly I listened to huh an' sposited it yistiddy." + +"You 're a liar! you 're a liar, you black thief!" Oakley broke in +impetuously. "You have learned your lesson well, but you can't cheat me. +I know where that money came from." + +"Calm yourself, Mr. Oakley, calm yourself." + +"I will not calm myself. Take him away. He shall not stand here and lie +to me." + +Berry had suddenly turned ashen. + +"You say you know whaih dat money come f'om? Whaih?" + +"You stole it, you thief, from my brother Frank's room." + +"Stole it! My Gawd, Mistah Oakley, you believed a thing lak dat aftah +all de yeahs I been wid you?" + +"You 've been stealing all along." + +"Why, what shell I do?" said the servant helplessly. "I tell you, Mistah +Oakley, ask Fannie. She 'll know how long I been a-savin' dis money." + +"I 'll ask no one." + +"I think it would be better to call his wife, Oakley." + +"Well, call her, but let this matter be done with soon." + +Fannie was summoned, and when the matter was explained to her, first +gave evidences of giving way to grief, but when the detective began to +question her, she calmed herself and answered directly just as her +husband had. + +"Well posted," sneered Oakley. "Arrest that man." + +Berry had begun to look more hopeful during Fannie's recital, but now +the ashen look came back into his face. At the word "arrest" his wife +collapsed utterly, and sobbed on her husband's shoulder. + +"Send the woman away." + +"I won't go," cried Fannie stoutly; "I 'll stay right hyeah by my +husband. You sha'n't drive me away f'om him." + +Berry turned to his employer. "You b'lieve dat I stole f'om dis house +aftah all de yeahs I 've been in it, aftah de caih I took of yo' money +an' yo' valybles, aftah de way I 've put you to bed f'om many a dinnah, +an' you woke up to fin' all yo' money safe? Now, can you b'lieve dis?" + +His voice broke, and he ended with a cry. + +"Yes, I believe it, you thief, yes. Take him away." + +Berry's eyes were bloodshot as he replied, "Den, damn you! damn you! ef +dat 's all dese yeahs counted fu', I wish I had a-stoled it." + +Oakley made a step forward, and his man did likewise, but the officer +stepped between them. + +"Take that damned hound away, or, by God! I 'll do him violence!" + +The two men stood fiercely facing each other, then the handcuffs were +snapped on the servant's wrist. + +"No, no," shrieked Fannie, "you must n't, you must n't. Oh, my Gawd! he +ain 't no thief. I 'll go to Mis' Oakley. She nevah will believe it." +She sped from the room. + +The commotion had called a crowd of curious servants into the hall. +Fannie hardly saw them as she dashed among them, crying for her +mistress. In a moment she returned, dragging Mrs. Oakley by the hand. + +"Tell 'em, oh, tell 'em, Miss Leslie, dat you don't believe it. Don't +let 'em 'rest Berry." + +"Why, Fannie, I can't do anything. It all seems perfectly plain, and Mr. +Oakley knows better than any of us, you know." + +Fannie, her last hope gone, flung herself on the floor, crying, "O Gawd! +O Gawd! he 's gone fu' sho'!" + +Her husband bent over her, the tears dropping from his eyes. "Nevah +min', Fannie," he said, "nevah min'. Hit 's boun' to come out all +right." + +She raised her head, and seizing his manacled hands pressed them to her +breast, wailing in a low monotone, "Gone! gone!" + +They disengaged her hands, and led Berry away. + +"Take her out," said Oakley sternly to the servants; and they lifted her +up and carried her away in a sort of dumb stupor that was half a swoon. + +They took her to her little cottage, and laid her down until she could +come to herself and the full horror of her situation burst upon her. + + + + +V + +THE JUSTICE OF MEN + + +The arrest of Berry Hamilton on the charge preferred by his employer was +the cause of unusual commotion in the town. Both the accuser and the +accused were well known to the citizens, white and black,--Maurice +Oakley as a solid man of business, and Berry as an honest, sensible +negro, and the pink of good servants. The evening papers had a full +story of the crime, which closed by saying that the prisoner had amassed +a considerable sum of money, it was very likely from a long series of +smaller peculations. + +It seems a strange irony upon the force of right living, that this man, +who had never been arrested before, who had never even been suspected of +wrong-doing, should find so few who even at the first telling doubted +the story of his guilt. Many people began to remember things that had +looked particularly suspicious in his dealings. Some others said, "I did +n't think it of him." There were only a few who dared to say, "I don't +believe it of him." + +The first act of his lodge, "The Tribe of Benjamin," whose treasurer he +was, was to have his accounts audited, when they should have been +visiting him with comfort, and they seemed personally grieved when his +books were found to be straight. The A. M. E. church, of which he had +been an honest and active member, hastened to disavow sympathy with him, +and to purge itself of contamination by turning him out. His friends +were afraid to visit him and were silent when his enemies gloated. On +every side one might have asked, Where is charity? and gone away empty. + +In the black people of the town the strong influence of slavery was +still operative, and with one accord they turned away from one of their +own kind upon whom had been set the ban of the white people's +displeasure. If they had sympathy, they dared not show it. Their own +interests, the safety of their own positions and firesides, demanded +that they stand aloof from the criminal. Not then, not now, nor has it +ever been true, although it has been claimed, that negroes either +harbour or sympathise with the criminal of their kind. They did not dare +to do it before the sixties. They do not dare to do it now. They have +brought down as a heritage from the days of their bondage both fear and +disloyalty. So Berry was unbefriended while the storm raged around him. +The cell where they had placed him was kind to him, and he could not +hear the envious and sneering comments that went on about him. This was +kind, for the tongues of his enemies were not. + +"Tell me, tell me," said one, "you need n't tell me dat a bird kin fly +so high dat he don' have to come down some time. An' w'en he do light, +honey, my Lawd, how he flop!" + +"Mistah Rich Niggah," said another. "He wanted to dress his wife an' +chillen lak white folks, did he? Well, he foun' out, he foun' out. By de +time de jedge git thoo wid him he won't be hol'in' his haid so high." + +"Wy, dat gal o' his'n," broke in old Isaac Brown indignantly, "w'y, she +would n' speak to my gal, Minty, when she met huh on de street. I reckon +she come down off'n huh high hoss now." + +The fact of the matter was that Minty Brown was no better than she +should have been, and did not deserve to be spoken to. But none of this +was taken into account either by the speaker or the hearers. The man was +down, it was time to strike. + +The women too joined their shrill voices to the general cry, and were +loud in their abuse of the Hamiltons and in disparagement of their +high-toned airs. + +"I knowed it, I knowed it," mumbled one old crone, rolling her bleared +and jealous eyes with glee. "W'enevah you see niggahs gittin' so high +dat dey own folks ain' good enough fu' 'em, look out." + +"W'y, la, Aunt Chloe I knowed it too. Dem people got so owdacious proud +dat dey would n't walk up to de collection table no mo' at chu'ch, but +allus set an' waited twell de basket was passed erroun'." + +"Hit 's de livin' trufe, an' I 's been seein' it all 'long. I ain't said +nuffin', but I knowed what 'uz gwine to happen. Ol' Chloe ain't lived +all dese yeahs fu' nuffin', an' ef she got de gif' o' secon' sight, 't +ain't fu' huh to say." + +The women suddenly became interested in this half assertion, and the old +hag, seeing that she had made the desired impression, lapsed into +silence. + +The whites were not neglecting to review and comment on the case also. +It had been long since so great a bit of wrong-doing in a negro had +given them cause for speculation and recrimination. + +"I tell you," said old Horace Talbot, who was noted for his kindliness +towards people of colour, "I tell you, I pity that darky more than I +blame him. Now, here 's my theory." They were in the bar of the +Continental Hotel, and the old gentleman sipped his liquor as he talked. +"It 's just like this: The North thought they were doing a great thing +when they come down here and freed all the slaves. They thought they +were doing a great thing, and I 'm not saying a word against them. I +give them the credit for having the courage of their convictions. But I +maintain that they were all wrong, now, in turning these people loose +upon the country the way they did, without knowledge of what the first +principle of liberty was. The natural result is that these people are +irresponsible. They are unacquainted with the ways of our higher +civilisation, and it 'll take them a long time to learn. You know Rome +was n't built in a day. I know Berry, and I 've known him for a long +while, and a politer, likelier darky than him you would have to go far +to find. And I have n't the least doubt in the world that he took that +money absolutely without a thought of wrong, sir, absolutely. He saw it. +He took it, and to his mental process, that was the end of it. To him +there was no injury inflicted on any one, there was no crime committed. +His elemental reasoning was simply this: This man has more money than I +have; here is some of his surplus,--I 'll just take it. Why, gentlemen, +I maintain that that man took that money with the same innocence of +purpose with which one of our servants a few years ago would have +appropriated a stray ham." + +"I disagree with you entirely, Mr. Talbot," broke in Mr. Beachfield +Davis, who was a mighty hunter.--"Make mine the same, Jerry, only add a +little syrup.--I disagree with you. It 's simply total depravity, that +'s all. All niggers are alike, and there 's no use trying to do anything +with them. Look at that man, Dodson, of mine. I had one of the finest +young hounds in the State. You know that white pup of mine, Mr. Talbot, +that I bought from Hiram Gaskins? Mighty fine breed. Well, I was +spendin' all my time and patience trainin' that dog in the daytime. At +night I put him in that nigger's care to feed and bed. Well, do you +know, I came home the other night and found that black rascal gone? I +went out to see if the dog was properly bedded, and by Jove, the dog was +gone too. Then I got suspicious. When a nigger and a dog go out together +at night, one draws certain conclusions. I thought I had heard bayin' +way out towards the edge of the town. So I stayed outside and watched. +In about an hour here came Dodson with a possum hung over his shoulder +and my dog trottin' at his heels. He 'd been possum huntin' with my +hound--with the finest hound in the State, sir. Now, I appeal to you +all, gentlemen, if that ain't total depravity, what is total depravity?" + +"Not total depravity, Beachfield, I maintain, but the very +irresponsibility of which I have spoken. Why, gentlemen, I foresee the +day when these people themselves shall come to us Southerners of their +own accord and ask to be re-enslaved until such time as they shall be +fit for freedom." Old Horace was nothing if not logical. + +"Well, do you think there 's any doubt of the darky's guilt?" asked +Colonel Saunders hesitatingly. He was the only man who had ever thought +of such a possibility. They turned on him as if he had been some +strange, unnatural animal. + +"Any doubt!" cried Old Horace. + +"Any doubt!" exclaimed Mr. Davis. + +"Any doubt?" almost shrieked the rest. "Why, there can be no doubt. Why, +Colonel, what are you thinking of? Tell us who has got the money if he +has n't? Tell us where on earth the nigger got the money he 's been +putting in the bank? Doubt? Why, there is n't the least doubt about it." + +"Certainly, certainly," said the Colonel, "but I thought, of course, he +might have saved it. There are several of those people, you know, who do +a little business and have bank accounts." + +"Yes, but they are in some sort of business. This man makes only thirty +dollars a month. Don't you see?" + +The Colonel saw, or said he did. And he did not answer what he might +have answered, that Berry had no rent and no board to pay. His clothes +came from his master, and Kitty and Fannie looked to their mistress for +the larger number of their supplies. He did not call to their minds that +Fannie herself made fifteen dollars a month, and that for two years Joe +had been supporting himself. These things did not come up, and as far as +the opinion of the gentlemen assembled in the Continental bar went, +Berry was already proven guilty. + +As for the prisoner himself, after the first day when he had pleaded +"Not guilty" and been bound over to the Grand Jury, he had fallen into +a sort of dazed calm that was like the stupor produced by a drug. He +took little heed of what went on around him. The shock had been too +sudden for him, and it was as if his reason had been for the time +unseated. That it was not permanently overthrown was evidenced by his +waking to the most acute pain and grief whenever Fannie came to him. +Then he would toss and moan and give vent to his sorrow in passionate +complaints. + +"I did n't tech his money, Fannie, you know I did n't. I wo'ked fu' +every cent of dat money, an' I saved it myself. Oh, I 'll nevah be able +to git a job ag'in. Me in de lock-up--me, aftah all dese yeahs!" + +Beyond this, apparently, his mind could not go. That his detention was +anything more than temporary never seemed to enter his mind. That he +would be convicted and sentenced was as far from possibility as the +skies from the earth. If he saw visions of a long sojourn in prison, it +was only as a nightmare half consciously experienced and which with the +struggle must give way before the waking. + +Fannie was utterly hopeless. She had laid down whatever pride had been +hers and gone to plead with Maurice Oakley for her husband's freedom, +and she had seen his hard, set face. She had gone upon her knees before +his wife to cite Berry's long fidelity. + +"Oh, Mis' Oakley," she cried, "ef he did steal de money, we 've got +enough saved to mek it good. Let him go! let him go!" + +"Then you admit that he did steal?" Mrs. Oakley had taken her up +sharply. + +"Oh, I did n't say dat; I did n't mean dat." + +"That will do, Fannie. I understand perfectly. You should have confessed +that long ago." + +"But I ain't confessin'! I ain't! He did n't----" + +"You may go." + +The stricken woman reeled out of her mistress's presence, and Mrs. +Oakley told her husband that night, with tears in her eyes, how +disappointed she was with Fannie,--that the woman had known it all +along, and had only just confessed. It was just one more link in the +chain that was surely and not too slowly forging itself about Berry +Hamilton. + +Of all the family Joe was the only one who burned with a fierce +indignation. He knew that his father was innocent, and his very +helplessness made a fever in his soul. Dandy as he was, he was loyal, +and when he saw his mother's tears and his sister's shame, something +rose within him that had it been given play might have made a man of +him, but, being crushed, died and rotted, and in the compost it made all +the evil of his nature flourished. The looks and gibes of his +fellow-employees at the barber-shop forced him to leave his work there. +Kit, bowed with shame and grief, dared not appear upon the streets, +where the girls who had envied her now hooted at her. So the little +family was shut in upon itself away from fellowship and sympathy. + +Joe went seldom to see his father. He was not heartless; but the citadel +of his long desired and much vaunted manhood trembled before the sight +of his father's abject misery. The lines came round his lips, and lines +too must have come round his heart. Poor fellow, he was too young for +this forcing process, and in the hot-house of pain he only grew an +acrid, unripe cynic. + +At the sitting of the Grand Jury Berry was indicted. His trial followed +soon, and the town turned out to see it. Some came to laugh and scoff, +but these, his enemies, were silenced by the spectacle of his grief. In +vain the lawyer whom he had secured showed that the evidence against him +proved nothing. In vain he produced proof of the slow accumulation of +what the man had. In vain he pleaded the man's former good name. The +judge and the jury saw otherwise. Berry was convicted. He was given ten +years at hard labour. + +He hardly looked as if he could live out one as he heard his sentence. +But Nature was kind and relieved him of the strain. With a cry as if his +heart were bursting, he started up and fell forward on his face +unconscious. Some one, a bit more brutal than the rest, said, "It 's +five dollars' fine every time a nigger faints," but no one laughed. +There was something too portentous, too tragic in the degradation of +this man. + +Maurice Oakley sat in the court-room, grim and relentless. As soon as +the trial was over, he sent for Fannie, who still kept the cottage in +the yard. + +"You must go," he said. "You can't stay here any longer. I want none of +your breed about me." + +And Fannie bowed her head and went away from him in silence. + +All the night long the women of the Hamilton household lay in bed and +wept, clinging to each other in their grief. But Joe did not go to +sleep. Against all their entreaties, he stayed up. He put out the light +and sat staring into the gloom with hard, burning eyes. + + + + +VI + +OUTCASTS + + +What particularly irritated Maurice Oakley was that Berry should to the +very last keep up his claim of innocence. He reiterated it to the very +moment that the train which was bearing him away pulled out of the +station. There had seldom been seen such an example of criminal +hardihood, and Oakley was hardened thereby to greater severity in +dealing with the convict's wife. He began to urge her more strongly to +move, and she, dispirited and humiliated by what had come to her, looked +vainly about for the way to satisfy his demands. With her natural +protector gone, she felt more weak and helpless than she had thought it +possible to feel. It was hard enough to face the world. But to have to +ask something of it was almost more than she could bear. + +With the conviction of her husband the last five hundred dollars had +been confiscated as belonging to the stolen money, but their former +deposit remained untouched. With this she had the means at her disposal +to tide over their present days of misfortune. It was not money she +lacked, but confidence. Some inkling of the world's attitude towards +her, guiltless though she was, reached her and made her afraid. + +Her desperation, however, would not let her give way to fear, so she set +forth to look for another house. Joe and Kit saw her go as if she were +starting on an expedition into a strange country. In all their lives +they had known no home save the little cottage in Oakley's yard. Here +they had toddled as babies and played as children and been happy and +care-free. There had been times when they had complained and wanted a +home off by themselves, like others whom they knew. They had not +failed, either, to draw unpleasant comparisons between their mode of +life and the old plantation quarters system. But now all this was +forgotten, and there were only grief and anxiety that they must leave +the place and in such a way. + +Fannie went out with little hope in her heart, and a short while after +she was gone Joe decided to follow her and make an attempt to get work. + +"I 'll go an' see what I kin do, anyway, Kit. 'T ain't much use, I +reckon, trying to get into a bahbah shop where they shave white folks, +because all the white folks are down on us. I 'll try one of the +coloured shops." + +This was something of a condescension for Berry Hamilton's son. He had +never yet shaved a black chin or put shears to what he termed "naps," +and he was proud of it. He thought, though, that after the training he +had received from the superior "Tonsorial Parlours" where he had been +employed, he had but to ask for a place and he would be gladly +accepted. + +It is strange how all the foolish little vaunting things that a man says +in days of prosperity wax a giant crop around him in the days of his +adversity. Berry Hamilton's son found this out almost as soon as he had +applied at the first of the coloured shops for work. + +"Oh, no, suh," said the proprietor, "I don't think we got anything fu' +you to do; you 're a white man's bahbah. We don't shave nothin' but +niggahs hyeah, an' we shave 'em in de light o' day an' on de groun' +flo'." + +"W'y, I hyeah you say dat you could n't git a paih of sheahs thoo a +niggah's naps. You ain't been practisin' lately, has you?" came from the +back of the shop, where a grinning negro was scraping a fellow's face. + +"Oh, yes, you 're done with burr-heads, are you? But burr-heads are good +enough fu' you now." + +"I think," the proprietor resumed, "that I hyeahed you say you was n't +fond o' grape pickin'. Well, Josy, my son, I would n't begin it now, +'specially as anothah kin' o' pickin' seems to run in yo' fambly." + +Joe Hamilton never knew how he got out of that shop. He only knew that +he found himself upon the street outside the door, tears of anger and +shame in his eyes, and the laughs and taunts of his tormentors still +ringing in his ears. + +It was cruel, of course it was cruel. It was brutal. But only he knew +how just it had been. In his moments of pride he had said all those +things, half in fun and half in earnest, and he began to wonder how he +could have been so many kinds of a fool for so long without realising +it. + +He had not the heart to seek another shop, for he knew that what would +be known at one would be equally well known at all the rest. The hardest +thing that he had to bear was the knowledge that he had shut himself out +of all the chances that he now desired. He remembered with a pang the +words of an old negro to whom he had once been impudent, "Nevah min', +boy, nevah min', you 's bo'n, but you ain't daid!" + +It was too true. He had not known then what would come. He had never +dreamed that anything so terrible could overtake him. Even in his +straits, however, desperation gave him a certain pluck. He would try for +something else for which his own tongue had not disqualified him. With +Joe, to think was to do. He went on to the Continental Hotel, where +there were almost always boys wanted to "run the bells." The clerk +looked him over critically. He was a bright, spruce-looking young +fellow, and the man liked his looks. + +"Well, I guess we can take you on," he said. "What 's your name?" + +"Joe," was the laconic answer. He was afraid to say more. + +"Well, Joe, you go over there and sit where you see those fellows in +uniform, and wait until I call the head bellman." + +Young Hamilton went over and sat down on a bench which ran along the +hotel corridor and where the bellmen were wont to stay during the day +awaiting their calls. A few of the blue-coated Mercuries were there. +Upon Joe's advent they began to look askance at him and to talk among +themselves. He felt his face burning as he thought of what they must be +saying. Then he saw the head bellman talking to the clerk and looking in +his direction. He saw him shake his head and walk away. He could have +cursed him. The clerk called to him. + +"I did n't know," he said,--"I did n't know that you were Berry +Hamilton's boy. Now, I 've got nothing against you myself. I don't hold +you responsible for what your father did, but I don't believe our boys +would work with you. I can't take you on." + +Joe turned away to meet the grinning or contemptuous glances of the +bellmen on the seat. It would have been good to be able to hurl +something among them. But he was helpless. + +He hastened out of the hotel, feeling that every eye was upon him, every +finger pointing at him, every tongue whispering, "There goes Joe +Hamilton, whose father went to the penitentiary the other day." + +What should he do? He could try no more. He was proscribed, and the +letters of his ban were writ large throughout the town, where all who +ran might read. For a while he wandered aimlessly about and then turned +dejectedly homeward. His mother had not yet come. + +"Did you get a job?" was Kit's first question. + +"No," he answered bitterly, "no one wants me now." + +"No one wants you? Why, Joe--they--they don't think hard of us, do +they?" + +"I don't know what they think of ma and you, but they think hard of me, +all right." + +"Oh, don't you worry; it 'll be all right when it blows over." + +"Yes, when it all blows over; but when 'll that be?" + +"Oh, after a while, when we can show 'em we 're all right." + +Some of the girl's cheery hopefulness had come back to her in the +presence of her brother's dejection, as a woman always forgets her own +sorrow when some one she loves is grieving. But she could not +communicate any of her feeling to Joe, who had been and seen and felt, +and now sat darkly waiting his mother's return. Some presentiment seemed +to tell him that, armed as she was with money to pay for what she wanted +and asking for nothing without price, she would yet have no better tale +to tell than he. + +None of these forebodings visited the mind of Kit, and as soon as her +mother appeared on the threshold she ran to her, crying, "Oh, where are +we going to live, ma?" + +Fannie looked at her for a moment, and then answered with a burst of +tears, "Gawd knows, child, Gawd knows." + +The girl stepped back astonished. "Why, why!" and then with a rush of +tenderness she threw her arms about her mother's neck. "Oh, you 're +tired to death," she said; "that 's what 's the matter with you. Never +mind about the house now. I 've got some tea made for you, and you just +take a cup." + +Fannie sat down and tried to drink her tea, but she could not. It stuck +in her throat, and the tears rolled down her face and fell into the +shaking cup. Joe looked on silently. He had been out and he understood. + +"I 'll go out to-morrow and do some looking around for a house while you +stay at home an' rest, ma." + +Her mother looked up, the maternal instinct for the protection of her +daughter at once aroused. "Oh, no, not you, Kitty," she said. + +Then for the first time Joe spoke: "You 'd just as well tell Kitty now, +ma, for she 's got to come across it anyhow." + +"What you know about it? Whaih you been to?" + +"I 've been out huntin' work. I 've been to Jones's bahbah shop an' to +the Continental Hotel." His light-brown face turned brick red with anger +and shame at the memory of it. "I don't think I 'll try any more." + +Kitty was gazing with wide and saddening eyes at her mother. + +"Were they mean to you too, ma?" she asked breathlessly. + +"Mean? Oh Kitty! Kitty! you don't know what it was like. It nigh killed +me. Thaih was plenty of houses an' owned by people I 've knowed fu' +yeahs, but not one of 'em wanted to rent to me. Some of 'em made excuses +'bout one thing er t' other, but de res' come right straight out an' +said dat we 'd give a neighbourhood a bad name ef we moved into it. I +'ve almos' tramped my laigs off. I 've tried every decent place I could +think of, but nobody wants us." + +The girl was standing with her hands clenched nervously before her. It +was almost more than she could understand. + +"Why, we ain't done anything," she said. "Even if they don't know any +better than to believe that pa was guilty, they know we ain't done +anything." + +"I 'd like to cut the heart out of a few of 'em," said Joe in his +throat. + +"It ain't goin' to do no good to look at it that a-way, Joe," his mother +replied. "I know hit 's ha'd, but we got to do de bes' we kin." + +"What are we goin' to do?" cried the boy fiercely. "They won't let us +work. They won't let us live anywhaih. Do they want us to live on the +levee an' steal, like some of 'em do?" + +"What are we goin' to do?" echoed Kitty helplessly. "I 'd go out ef I +thought I could find anythin' to work at." + +"Don't you go anywhaih, child. It 'ud only be worse. De niggah men dat +ust to be bowin' an' scrapin' to me an' tekin' off dey hats to me +laughed in my face. I met Minty--an' she slurred me right in de street. +Dey 'd do worse fu' you." + +In the midst of the conversation a knock came at the door. It was a +messenger from the "House," as they still called Oakley's home, and he +wanted them to be out of the cottage by the next afternoon, as the new +servants were coming and would want the rooms. + +The message was so curt, so hard and decisive, that Fannie was startled +out of her grief into immediate action. + +"Well, we got to go," she said, rising wearily. + +"But where are we goin'?" wailed Kitty in affright. "There 's no place +to go to. We have n't got a house. Where 'll we go?" + +"Out o' town someplace as fur away from this damned hole as we kin +git." The boy spoke recklessly in his anger. He had never sworn before +his mother before. + +She looked at him in horror. "Joe, Joe," she said, "you 're mekin' it +wuss. You 're mekin' it ha'dah fu' me to baih when you talk dat a-way. +What you mean? Whaih you think Gawd is?" + +Joe remained sullenly silent. His mother's faith was too stalwart for +his comprehension. There was nothing like it in his own soul to +interpret it. + +"We 'll git de secon'-han' dealah to tek ouah things to-morrer, an' then +we 'll go away some place, up No'th maybe." + +"Let 's go to New York," said Joe. + +"New Yo'k?" + +They had heard of New York as a place vague and far away, a city that, +like Heaven, to them had existed by faith alone. All the days of their +lives they had heard of it, and it seemed to them the centre of all the +glory, all the wealth, and all the freedom of the world. New York. It +had an alluring sound. Who would know them there? Who would look down +upon them? + +"It 's a mighty long ways off fu' me to be sta'tin' at dis time o' +life." + +"We want to go a long ways off." + +"I wonder what pa would think of it if he was here," put in Kitty. + +"I guess he 'd think we was doin' the best we could." + +"Well, den, Joe," said his mother, her voice trembling with emotion at +the daring step they were about to take, "you set down an' write a +lettah to yo' pa, an' tell him what we goin' to do, an' +to-morrer--to-morrer--we 'll sta't." + +Something akin to joy came into the boy's heart as he sat down to write +the letter. They had taunted him, had they? They had scoffed at him. But +he was going where they might never go, and some day he would come back +holding his head high and pay them sneer for sneer and jibe for jibe. + +The same night the commission was given to the furniture dealer who +would take charge of their things and sell them when and for what he +could. + +From his window the next morning Maurice Oakley watched the wagon +emptying the house. Then he saw Fannie come out and walk about her +little garden, followed by her children. He saw her as she wiped her +eyes and led the way to the side gate. + +"Well, they 're gone," he said to his wife. "I wonder where they 're +going to live?" + +"Oh, some of their people will take them in," replied Mrs. Oakley +languidly. + +Despite the fact that his mother carried with her the rest of the money +drawn from the bank, Joe had suddenly stepped into the place of the man +of the family. He attended to all the details of their getting away with +a promptness that made it seem untrue that he had never been more than +thirty miles from his native town. He was eager and excited. As the +train drew out of the station, he did not look back upon the place which +he hated, but Fannie and her daughter let their eyes linger upon it +until the last house, the last chimney, and the last spire faded from +their sight, and their tears fell and mingled as they were whirled away +toward the unknown. + + + + +VII + +IN NEW YORK + + +To the provincial coming to New York for the first time, ignorant and +unknown, the city presents a notable mingling of the qualities of +cheeriness and gloom. If he have any eye at all for the beautiful, he +cannot help experiencing a thrill as he crosses the ferry over the river +filled with plying craft and catches the first sight of the spires and +buildings of New York. If he have the right stuff in him, a something +will take possession of him that will grip him again every time he +returns to the scene and will make him long and hunger for the place +when he is away from it. Later, the lights in the busy streets will +bewilder and entice him. He will feel shy and helpless amid the hurrying +crowds. A new emotion will take his heart as the people hasten by +him,--a feeling of loneliness, almost of grief, that with all of these +souls about him he knows not one and not one of them cares for him. +After a while he will find a place and give a sigh of relief as he +settles away from the city's sights behind his cosey blinds. It is +better here, and the city is cruel and cold and unfeeling. This he will +feel, perhaps, for the first half-hour, and then he will be out in it +all again. He will be glad to strike elbows with the bustling mob and be +happy at their indifference to him, so that he may look at them and +study them. After it is all over, after he has passed through the first +pangs of strangeness and homesickness, yes, even after he has got beyond +the stranger's enthusiasm for the metropolis, the real fever of love for +the place will begin to take hold upon him. The subtle, insidious wine +of New York will begin to intoxicate him. Then, if he be wise, he will +go away, any place,--yes, he will even go over to Jersey. But if he be a +fool, he will stay and stay on until the town becomes all in all to him; +until the very streets are his chums and certain buildings and corners +his best friends. Then he is hopeless, and to live elsewhere would be +death. The Bowery will be his romance, Broadway his lyric, and the Park +his pastoral, the river and the glory of it all his epic, and he will +look down pityingly on all the rest of humanity. + +It was the afternoon of a clear October day that the Hamiltons reached +New York. Fannie had some misgivings about crossing the ferry, but once +on the boat these gave way to speculations as to what they should find +on the other side. With the eagerness of youth to take in new +impressions, Joe and Kitty were more concerned with what they saw about +them than with what their future would hold, though they might well have +stopped to ask some such questions. In all the great city they knew +absolutely no one, and had no idea which way to go to find a +stopping-place. + +They looked about them for some coloured face, and finally saw one among +the porters who were handling the baggage. To Joe's inquiry he gave them +an address, and also proffered his advice as to the best way to reach +the place. He was exceedingly polite, and he looked hard at Kitty. They +found the house to which they had been directed, and were a good deal +surprised at its apparent grandeur. It was a four-storied brick dwelling +on Twenty-seventh Street. As they looked from the outside, they were +afraid that the price of staying in such a place would be too much for +their pockets. Inside, the sight of the hard, gaudily upholstered +instalment-plan furniture did not disillusion them, and they continued +to fear that they could never stop at this fine place. But they found +Mrs. Jones, the proprietress, both gracious and willing to come to terms +with them. + +As Mrs. Hamilton--she began to be Mrs. Hamilton now, to the exclusion of +Fannie--would have described Mrs. Jones, she was a "big yellow woman." +She had a broad good-natured face and a tendency to run to bust. + +"Yes," she said, "I think I could arrange to take you. I could let you +have two rooms, and you could use my kitchen until you decided whether +you wanted to take a flat or not. I has the whole house myself, and I +keeps roomers. But latah on I could fix things so 's you could have the +whole third floor ef you wanted to. Most o' my gent'men 's railroad +gent'men, they is. I guess it must 'a' been Mr. Thomas that sent you up +here." + +"He was a little bright man down at de deepo." + +"Yes, that 's him. That 's Mr. Thomas. He 's always lookin' out to send +some one here, because he 's been here three years hisself an' he kin +recommend my house." + +It was a relief to the Hamiltons to find Mrs. Jones so gracious and +home-like. So the matter was settled, and they took up their abode with +her and sent for their baggage. + +With the first pause in the rush that they had experienced since +starting away from home, Mrs. Hamilton began to have time for +reflection, and their condition seemed to her much better as it was. Of +course, it was hard to be away from home and among strangers, but the +arrangement had this advantage,--that no one knew them or could taunt +them with their past trouble. She was not sure that she was going to +like New York. It had a great name and was really a great place, but the +very bigness of it frightened her and made her feel alone, for she knew +that there could not be so many people together without a deal of +wickedness. She did not argue the complement of this, that the amount of +good would also be increased, but this was because to her evil was the +very present factor in her life. + +Joe and Kit were differently affected by what they saw about them. The +boy was wild with enthusiasm and with a desire to be a part of all that +the metropolis meant. In the evening he saw the young fellows passing by +dressed in their spruce clothes, and he wondered with a sort of envy +where they could be going. Back home there had been no place much worth +going to, except church and one or two people's houses. But these young +fellows seemed to show by their manners that they were neither going to +church nor a family visiting. In the moment that he recognised this, a +revelation came to him,--the knowledge that his horizon had been very +narrow, and he felt angry that it was so. Why should those fellows be +different from him? Why should they walk the streets so knowingly, so +independently, when he knew not whither to turn his steps? Well, he was +in New York, and now he would learn. Some day some greenhorn from the +South should stand at a window and look out envying him, as he passed, +red-cravated, patent-leathered, intent on some goal. Was it not better, +after all, that circumstances had forced them thither? Had it not been +so, they might all have stayed home and stagnated. Well, thought he, it +'s an ill wind that blows nobody good, and somehow, with a guilty +under-thought, he forgot to feel the natural pity for his father, +toiling guiltless in the prison of his native State. + +Whom the Gods wish to destroy they first make mad. The first sign of the +demoralisation of the provincial who comes to New York is his pride at +his insensibility to certain impressions which used to influence him at +home. First, he begins to scoff, and there is no truth in his views nor +depth in his laugh. But by and by, from mere pretending, it becomes +real. He grows callous. After that he goes to the devil very cheerfully. + +No such radical emotions, however, troubled Kit's mind. She too stood at +the windows and looked down into the street. There was a sort of +complacent calm in the manner in which she viewed the girls' hats and +dresses. Many of them were really pretty, she told herself, but for the +most part they were not better than what she had had down home. There +was a sound quality in the girl's make-up that helped her to see through +the glamour of mere place and recognise worth for itself. Or it may have +been the critical faculty, which is prominent in most women, that kept +her from thinking a five-cent cheese-cloth any better in New York than +it was at home. She had a certain self-respect which made her value +herself and her own traditions higher than her brother did his. + +When later in the evening the porter who had been kind to them came in +and was introduced as Mr. William Thomas, young as she was, she took his +open admiration for her with more coolness than Joe exhibited when +Thomas offered to show him something of the town some day or night. + +Mr. Thomas was a loquacious little man with a confident air born of an +intense admiration of himself. He was the idol of a number of +servant-girls' hearts, and altogether a decidedly dashing back-area-way +Don Juan. + +"I tell you, Miss Kitty," he burst forth, a few minutes after being +introduced, "they ain't no use talkin', N' Yawk 'll give you a shakin' +up 'at you won't soon forget. It 's the only town on the face of the +earth. You kin bet your life they ain't no flies on N' Yawk. We git the +best shows here, we git the best concerts--say, now, what 's the use o' +my callin' it all out?--we simply git the best of everything." + +"Great place," said Joe wisely, in what he thought was going to be quite +a man-of-the-world manner. But he burned with shame the next minute +because his voice sounded so weak and youthful. Then too the oracle only +said "Yes" to him, and went on expatiating to Kitty on the glories of +the metropolis. + +"D'jever see the statue o' Liberty? Great thing, the statue o' Liberty. +I 'll take you 'round some day. An' Cooney Island--oh, my, now that 's +the place; and talk about fun! That 's the place for me." + +"La, Thomas," Mrs. Jones put in, "how you do run on! Why, the strangers +'ll think they 'll be talked to death before they have time to breathe." + +"Oh, I guess the folks understan' me. I 'm one o' them kin' o' men 'at +believe in whooping things up right from the beginning. I 'm never +strange with anybody. I 'm a N' Yawker, I tell you, from the word go. I +say, Mis' Jones, let 's have some beer, an' we 'll have some music purty +soon. There 's a fellah in the house 'at plays 'Rag-time' out o' sight." + +Mr. Thomas took the pail and went to the corner. As he left the room, +Mrs. Jones slapped her knee and laughed until her bust shook like jelly. + +"Mr. Thomas is a case, sho'," she said; "but he likes you all, an' I 'm +mighty glad of it, fu' he 's mighty curious about the house when he +don't like the roomers." + +Joe felt distinctly flattered, for he found their new acquaintance +charming. His mother was still a little doubtful, and Kitty was sure she +found the young man "fresh." + +He came in pretty soon with his beer, and a half-dozen crabs in a bag. + +"Thought I 'd bring home something to chew. I always like to eat +something with my beer." + +Mrs. Jones brought in the glasses, and the young man filled one and +turned to Kitty. + +"No, thanks," she said with a surprised look. + +"What, don't you drink beer? Oh, come now, you 'll get out o' that." + +"Kitty don't drink no beer," broke in her mother with mild resentment. +"I drinks it sometimes, but she don't. I reckon maybe de chillen better +go to bed." + +Joe felt as if the "chillen" had ruined all his hopes, but Kitty rose. + +The ingratiating "N' Yawker" was aghast. + +"Oh, let 'em stay," said Mrs. Jones heartily; "a little beer ain't goin' +to hurt 'em. Why, sakes, I know my father gave me beer from the time I +could drink it, and I knows I ain't none the worse fu' it." + +"They 'll git out o' that, all right, if they live in N' Yawk," said Mr. +Thomas, as he poured out a glass and handed it to Joe. "You neither?" + +"Oh, I drink it," said the boy with an air, but not looking at his +mother. + +"Joe," she cried to him, "you must ricollect you ain't at home. What 'ud +yo' pa think?" Then she stopped suddenly, and Joe gulped his beer and +Kitty went to the piano to relieve her embarrassment. + +"Yes, that 's it, Miss Kitty, sing us something," said the irrepressible +Thomas, "an' after while we 'll have that fellah down that plays +'Rag-time.' He 's out o' sight, I tell you." + +With the pretty shyness of girlhood, Kitty sang one or two little songs +in the simple manner she knew. Her voice was full and rich. It delighted +Mr. Thomas. + +"I say, that 's singin' now, I tell you," he cried. "You ought to have +some o' the new songs. D' jever hear 'Baby, you got to leave'? I tell +you, that 's a hot one. I 'll bring you some of 'em. Why, you could git +a job on the stage easy with that voice o' yourn. I got a frien' in one +o' the comp'nies an' I 'll speak to him about you." + +"You ought to git Mr. Thomas to take you to the th'atre some night. He +goes lots." + +"Why, yes, what 's the matter with to-morrer night? There 's a good coon +show in town. Out o' sight. Let 's all go." + +"I ain't nevah been to nothin' lak dat, an' I don't know," said Mrs. +Hamilton. + +"Aw, come, I 'll git the tickets an' we 'll all go. Great singin', you +know. What d' you say?" + +The mother hesitated, and Joe filled the breach. + +"We 'd all like to go," he said. "Ma, we' ll go if you ain't too tired." + +"Tired? Pshaw, you 'll furgit all about your tiredness when Smithkins +gits on the stage. Y' ought to hear him sing, 'I bin huntin' fu' wo'k'! +You 'd die laughing." + +Mrs. Hamilton made no further demur, and the matter was closed. + +Awhile later the "Rag-time" man came down and gave them a sample of what +they were to hear the next night. Mr. Thomas and Mrs. Jones two-stepped, +and they sent a boy after some more beer. Joe found it a very jolly +evening, but Kit's and the mother's hearts were heavy as they went up to +bed. + +"Say," said Mr. Thomas when they had gone, "that little girl 's a peach, +you bet; a little green, I guess, but she 'll ripen in the sun." + + + + +VIII + +AN EVENING OUT + + +Fannie Hamilton, tired as she was, sat long into the night with her +little family discussing New York,--its advantages and disadvantages, +its beauty and its ugliness, its morality and immorality. She had +somewhat receded from her first position, that it was better being here +in the great strange city than being at home where the very streets +shamed them. She had not liked the way that their fellow lodger looked +at Kitty. It was bold, to say the least. She was not pleased, either, +with their new acquaintance's familiarity. And yet, he had said no more +than some stranger, if there could be such a stranger, would have said +down home. There was a difference, however, which she recognised. Thomas +was not the provincial who puts every one on a par with himself, nor was +he the metropolitan who complacently patronises the whole world. He was +trained out of the one and not up to the other. The intermediate only +succeeded in being offensive. Mrs. Jones' assurance as to her guest's +fine qualities did not do all that might have been expected to reassure +Mrs. Hamilton in the face of the difficulties of the gentleman's manner. + +She could not, however, lay her finger on any particular point that +would give her the reason for rejecting his friendly advances. She got +ready the next evening to go to the theatre with the rest. Mr. Thomas at +once possessed himself of Kitty and walked on ahead, leaving Joe to +accompany his mother and Mrs. Jones,--an arrangement, by the way, not +altogether to that young gentleman's taste. A good many men bowed to +Thomas in the street, and they turned to look enviously after him. At +the door of the theatre they had to run the gantlet of a dozen pairs of +eyes. Here, too, the party's guide seemed to be well known, for some one +said, before they passed out of hearing, "I wonder who that little light +girl is that Thomas is with to-night? He 's a hot one for you." + +Mrs. Hamilton had been in a theatre but once before in her life, and Joe +and Kit but a few times oftener. On those occasions they had sat far up +in the peanut gallery in the place reserved for people of colour. This +was not a pleasant, cleanly, nor beautiful locality, and by contrast +with it, even the garishness of the cheap New York theatre seemed fine +and glorious. + +They had good seats in the first balcony, and here their guide had shown +his managerial ability again, for he had found it impossible, or said +so, to get all the seats together, so that he and the girl were in the +row in front and to one side of where the rest sat. Kitty did not like +the arrangement, and innocently suggested that her brother take her seat +while she went back to her mother. But her escort overruled her +objections easily, and laughed at her so frankly that from very shame +she could not urge them again, and they were soon forgotten in her +wonder at the mystery and glamour that envelops the home of the drama. +There was something weird to her in the alternate spaces of light and +shade. Without any feeling of its ugliness, she looked at the curtain as +at a door that should presently open between her and a house of wonders. +She looked at it with the fascination that one always experiences for +what either brings near or withholds the unknown. + +As for Joe, he was not bothered by the mystery or the glamour of things. +But he had suddenly raised himself in his own estimation. He had gazed +steadily at a girl across the aisle until she had smiled in response. Of +course, he went hot and cold by turns, and the sweat broke out on his +brow, but instantly he began to swell. He had made a decided advance in +knowledge, and he swelled with the consciousness that already he was +coming to be a man of the world. He looked with a new feeling at the +swaggering, sporty young negroes. His attitude towards them was not one +of humble self-depreciation any more. Since last night he had grown, +and felt that he might, that he would, be like them, and it put a sort +of chuckling glee into his heart. + +One might find it in him to feel sorry for this small-souled, warped +being, for he was so evidently the jest of Fate, if it were not that he +was so blissfully, so conceitedly, unconscious of his own nastiness. +Down home he had shaved the wild young bucks of the town, and while +doing it drunk in eagerly their unguarded narrations of their gay +exploits. So he had started out with false ideals as to what was fine +and manly. He was afflicted by a sort of moral and mental astigmatism +that made him see everything wrong. As he sat there to-night, he gave to +all he saw a wrong value and upon it based his ignorant desires. + +When the men of the orchestra filed in and began tuning their +instruments, it was the signal for an influx of loiterers from the door. +There were a large number of coloured people in the audience, and +because members of their own race were giving the performance, they +seemed to take a proprietary interest in it all. They discussed its +merits and demerits as they walked down the aisle in much the same tone +that the owners would have used had they been wondering whether the +entertainment was going to please the people or not. + +Finally the music struck up one of the numerous negro marches. It was +accompanied by the rhythmic patting of feet from all parts of the house. +Then the curtain went up on a scene of beauty. It purported to be a +grove to which a party of picnickers, the ladies and gentlemen of the +chorus, had come for a holiday, and they were telling the audience all +about it in crescendos. With the exception of one, who looked like a +faded kid glove, the men discarded the grease paint, but the women under +their make-ups ranged from pure white, pale yellow, and sickly greens to +brick reds and slate grays. They were dressed in costumes that were not +primarily intended for picnic going. But they could sing, and they did +sing, with their voices, their bodies, their souls. They threw +themselves into it because they enjoyed and felt what they were doing, +and they gave almost a semblance of dignity to the tawdry music and +inane words. + +Kitty was enchanted. The airily dressed women seemed to her like +creatures from fairy-land. It is strange how the glare of the footlights +succeeds in deceiving so many people who are able to see through other +delusions. The cheap dresses on the street had not fooled Kitty for an +instant, but take the same cheese-cloth, put a little water starch into +it, and put it on the stage, and she could see only chiffon. + +She turned around and nodded delightedly at her brother, but he did not +see her. He was lost, transfixed. His soul was floating on a sea of +sense. He had eyes and ears and thoughts only for the stage. His nerves +tingled and his hands twitched. Only to know one of those radiant +creatures, to have her speak to him, smile at him! If ever a man was +intoxicated, Joe was. Mrs. Hamilton was divided between shame at the +clothes of some of the women and delight with the music. Her companion +was busy pointing out who this and that actress was, and giving +jelly-like appreciation to the doings on the stage. + +Mr. Thomas was the only cool one in the party. He was quietly taking +stock of his young companion,--of her innocence and charm. She was a +pretty girl, little and dainty, but well developed for her age. Her hair +was very black and wavy, and some strain of the South's chivalric blood, +which is so curiously mingled with the African in the veins of most +coloured people, had tinged her skin to an olive hue. + +"Are you enjoying yourself?" he leaned over and whispered to her. His +voice was very confidential and his lips near her ear, but she did not +notice. + +"Oh, yes," she answered, "this is grand. How I 'd like to be an actress +and be up there!" + +"Maybe you will some day." + +"Oh, no, I 'm not smart enough." + +"We 'll see," he said wisely; "I know a thing or two." + +Between the first and second acts a number of Thomas's friends strolled +up to where he sat and began talking, and again Kitty's embarrassment +took possession of her as they were introduced one by one. They treated +her with a half-courteous familiarity that made her blush. Her mother +was not pleased with the many acquaintances that her daughter was +making, and would have interfered had not Mrs. Jones assured her that +the men clustered about their host's seat were some of the "best people +in town." Joe looked at them hungrily, but the man in front with his +sister did not think it necessary to include the brother or the rest of +the party in his miscellaneous introductions. + +One brief bit of conversation which the mother overheard especially +troubled her. + +"Not going out for a minute or two?" asked one of the men, as he was +turning away from Thomas. + +"No, I don't think I 'll go out to-night. You can have my share." + +The fellow gave a horse laugh and replied, "Well, you 're doing a great +piece of work, Miss Hamilton, whenever you can keep old Bill from goin' +out an' lushin' between acts. Say, you got a good thing; push it along." + +The girl's mother half rose, but she resumed her seat, for the man was +going away. Her mind was not quiet again, however, until the people were +all in their seats and the curtain had gone up on the second act. At +first she was surprised at the enthusiasm over just such dancing as she +could see any day from the loafers on the street corners down home, and +then, like a good, sensible, humble woman, she came around to the idea +that it was she who had always been wrong in putting too low a value on +really worthy things. So she laughed and applauded with the rest, all +the while trying to quiet something that was tugging at her away down in +her heart. + +When the performance was over she forced her way to Kitty's side, where +she remained in spite of all Thomas's palpable efforts to get her away. +Finally he proposed that they all go to supper at one of the coloured +cafes. + +"You 'll see a lot o' the show people," he said. + +"No, I reckon we 'd bettah go home," said Mrs. Hamilton decidedly. "De +chillen ain't ust to stayin' up all hours o' nights, an' I ain't anxious +fu' 'em to git ust to it." + +She was conscious of a growing dislike for this man who treated her +daughter with such a proprietary air. Joe winced again at "de chillen." + +Thomas bit his lip, and mentally said things that are unfit for +publication. Aloud he said, "Mebbe Miss Kitty 'ud like to go an' have a +little lunch." + +"Oh, no, thank you," said the girl; "I 've had a nice time and I don't +care for a thing to eat." + +Joe told himself that Kitty was the biggest fool that it had ever been +his lot to meet, and the disappointed suitor satisfied himself with the +reflection that the girl was green yet, but would get bravely over that. + +He attempted to hold her hand as they parted at the parlour door, but +she drew her fingers out of his clasp and said, "Good-night; thank you," +as if he had been one of her mother's old friends. + +Joe lingered a little longer. + +"Say, that was out o' sight," he said. + +"Think so?" asked the other carelessly. + +"I 'd like to get out with you some time to see the town," the boy went +on eagerly. + +"All right, we 'll go some time. So long." + +"So long." + +Some time. Was it true? Would he really take him out and let him meet +stage people? Joe went to bed with his head in a whirl. He slept little +that night for thinking of his heart's desire. + + + + +IX + +HIS HEART'S DESIRE + + +Whatever else his visit to the theatre may have done for Joe, it +inspired him with a desire to go to work and earn money of his own, to +be independent both of parental help and control, and so be able to +spend as he pleased. With this end in view he set out to hunt for work. +It was a pleasant contrast to his last similar quest, and he felt it +with joy. He was treated everywhere he went with courtesy, even when no +situation was forthcoming. Finally he came upon a man who was willing to +try him for an afternoon. From the moment the boy rightly considered +himself engaged, for he was master of his trade. He began his work with +heart elate. Now he had within his grasp the possibility of being all +that he wanted to be. Now Thomas might take him out at any time and not +be ashamed of him. + +With Thomas, the fact that Joe was working put the boy in an entirely +new light. He decided that now he might be worth cultivating. For a week +or two he had ignored him, and, proceeding upon the principle that if +you give corn to the old hen she will cluck to her chicks, had treated +Mrs. Hamilton with marked deference and kindness. This had been without +success, as both the girl and her mother held themselves politely aloof +from him. He began to see that his hope of winning Kitty's affections +lay, not in courting the older woman but in making a friend of the boy. +So on a certain Saturday night when the Banner Club was to give one of +its smokers, he asked Joe to go with him. Joe was glad to, and they set +out together. Arrived, Thomas left his companion for a few moments while +he attended, as he said, to a little business. What he really did was to +seek out the proprietor of the club and some of its hangers on. + +"I say," he said, "I 've got a friend with me to-night. He 's got some +dough on him. He 's fresh and young and easy." + +"Whew!" exclaimed the proprietor. + +"Yes, he 's a good thing, but push it along kin' o' light at first; he +might get skittish." + +"Thomas, let me fall on your bosom and weep," said a young man who, on +account of his usual expression of innocent gloom, was called Sadness. +"This is what I 've been looking for for a month. My hat was getting +decidedly shabby. Do you think he would stand for a touch on the first +night of our acquaintance?" + +"Don't you dare? Do you want to frighten him off? Make him believe that +you 've got coin to burn and that it 's an honour to be with you." + +"But, you know, he may expect a glimpse of the gold." + +"A smart man don't need to show nothin'. All he 's got to do is to act." + +"Oh, I 'll act; we 'll all act." + +"Be slow to take a drink from him." + +"Thomas, my boy, you 're an angel. I recognise that more and more every +day, but bid me do anything else but that. That I refuse: it 's against +nature;" and Sadness looked more mournful than ever. + +"Trust old Sadness to do his part," said the portly proprietor; and +Thomas went back to the lamb. + +"Nothin' doin' so early," he said; "let 's go an' have a drink." + +They went, and Thomas ordered. + +"No, no, this is on me," cried Joe, trembling with joy. + +"Pshaw, your money 's counterfeit," said his companion with fine +generosity. "This is on me, I say. Jack, what 'll you have yourself?" + +As they stood at the bar, the men began strolling up one by one. Each in +his turn was introduced to Joe. They were very polite. They treated him +with a pale, dignified, high-minded respect that menaced his pocket-book +and possessions. The proprietor, Mr. Turner, asked him why he had never +been in before. He really seemed much hurt about it, and on being told +that Joe had only been in the city for a couple of weeks expressed +emphatic surprise, even disbelief, and assured the rest that any one +would have taken Mr. Hamilton for an old New Yorker. + +Sadness was introduced last. He bowed to Joe's "Happy to know you, Mr. +Williams." + +"Better known as Sadness," he said, with an expression of deep gloom. "A +distant relative of mine once had a great grief. I have never recovered +from it." + +Joe was not quite sure how to take this; but the others laughed and he +joined them, and then, to cover his own embarrassment, he did what he +thought the only correct and manly thing to do,--he ordered a drink. + +"I don't know as I ought to," said Sadness. + +"Oh, come on," his companions called out, "don't be stiff with a +stranger. Make him feel at home." + +"Mr. Hamilton will believe me when I say that I have no intention of +being stiff, but duty is duty. I 've got to go down town to pay a bill, +and if I get too much aboard, it would n't be safe walking around with +money on me." + +"Aw, shut up, Sadness," said Thomas. "My friend Mr. Hamilton 'll feel +hurt if you don't drink with him." + +"I cert'n'y will," was Joe's opportune remark, and he was pleased to see +that it caused the reluctant one to yield. + +They took a drink. There was quite a line of them. Joe asked the +bartender what he would have. The men warmed towards him. They took +several more drinks with him and he was happy. Sadness put his arm about +his shoulder and told him, with tears in his eyes, that he looked like a +cousin of his that had died. + +"Aw, shut up, Sadness!" said some one else. "Be respectable." + +Sadness turned his mournful eyes upon the speaker. "I won't," he +replied. "Being respectable is very nice as a diversion, but it 's +tedious if done steadily." Joe did not quite take this, so he ordered +another drink. + +A group of young fellows came in and passed up the stairs. "Shearing +another lamb?" said one of them significantly. + +"Well, with that gang it will be well done." + +Thomas and Joe left the crowd after a while, and went to the upper +floor, where, in a long, brilliantly lighted room, tables were set out +for drinking-parties. At one end of the room was a piano, and a man sat +at it listlessly strumming some popular air. The proprietor joined them +pretty soon, and steered them to a table opposite the door. + +"Just sit down here, Mr. Hamilton," he said, "and you can see everybody +that comes in. We have lots of nice people here on smoker nights, +especially after the shows are out and the girls come in." + +Joe's heart gave a great leap, and then settled as cold as lead. Of +course, those girls would n't speak to him. But his hopes rose as the +proprietor went on talking to him and to no one else. Mr. Turner always +made a man feel as if he were of some consequence in the world, and men +a good deal older than Joe had been fooled by his manner. He talked to +one in a soft, ingratiating way, giving his whole attention apparently. +He tapped one confidentially on the shoulder, as who should say, "My +dear boy, I have but two friends in the world, and you are both of +them." + +Joe, charmed and pleased, kept his head well. There is a great deal in +heredity, and his father had not been Maurice Oakley's butler for so +many years for nothing. + +The Banner Club was an institution for the lower education of negro +youth. It drew its pupils from every class of people and from every part +of the country. It was composed of all sorts and conditions of men, +educated and uneducated, dishonest and less so, of the good, the bad, +and the--unexposed. Parasites came there to find victims, politicians +for votes, reporters for news, and artists of all kinds for colour and +inspiration. It was the place of assembly for a number of really bright +men, who after days of hard and often unrewarded work came there and +drunk themselves drunk in each other's company, and when they were drunk +talked of the eternal verities. + +The Banner was only one of a kind. It stood to the stranger and the man +and woman without connections for the whole social life. It was a +substitute--poor, it must be confessed--to many youths for the home life +which is so lacking among certain classes in New York. + +Here the rounders congregated, or came and spent the hours until it was +time to go forth to bout or assignation. Here too came sometimes the +curious who wanted to see something of the other side of life. Among +these, white visitors were not infrequent,--those who were young enough +to be fascinated by the bizarre, and those who were old enough to know +that it was all in the game. Mr. Skaggs, of the New York _Universe_, was +one of the former class and a constant visitor,--he and a "lady friend" +called "Maudie," who had a penchant for dancing to "Rag-time" melodies +as only the "puffessor" of such a club can play them. Of course, the +place was a social cesspool, generating a poisonous miasma and reeking +with the stench of decayed and rotten moralities. There is no defence to +be made for it. But what do you expect when false idealism and fevered +ambition come face to face with catering cupidity? + +It was into this atmosphere that Thomas had introduced the boy Joe, and +he sat there now by his side, firing his mind by pointing out the +different celebrities who came in and telling highly flavoured stories +of their lives or doings. Joe heard things that had never come within +the range of his mind before. + +"Aw, there 's Skaggsy an' Maudie--Maudie 's his girl, y' know, an' he 's +a reporter on the N' Yawk _Universe_. Fine fellow, Skaggsy." + +Maudie--a portly, voluptuous-looking brunette--left her escort and went +directly to the space by the piano. Here she was soon dancing with one +of the coloured girls who had come in. + +Skaggs started to sit down alone at a table, but Thomas called him, +"Come over here, Skaggsy." + +In the moment that it took the young man to reach them, Joe wondered if +he would ever reach that state when he could call that white man Skaggsy +and the girl Maudie. The new-comer soon set all of that at ease. + +"I want you to know my friend, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Skaggs." + +"Why, how d' ye do, Hamilton? I 'm glad to meet you. Now, look a here; +don't you let old Thomas here string you about me bein' any old 'Mr!' +Skaggs. I 'm Skaggsy to all of my friends. I hope to count you among +'em." + +It was such a supreme moment that Joe could not find words to answer, so +he called for another drink. + +"Not a bit of it," said Skaggsy, "not a bit of it. When I meet my +friends I always reserve to myself the right of ordering the first +drink. Waiter, this is on me. What 'll you have, gentlemen?" + +They got their drinks, and then Skaggsy leaned over confidentially and +began talking. + +"I tell you, Hamilton, there ain't an ounce of prejudice in my body. Do +you believe it?" + +Joe said that he did. Indeed Skaggsy struck one as being aggressively +unprejudiced. + +He went on: "You see, a lot o' fellows say to me, 'What do you want to +go down to that nigger club for?' That 's what they call it,--'nigger +club.' But I say to 'em, 'Gentlemen, at that nigger club, as you choose +to call it, I get more inspiration than I could get at any of the +greater clubs in New York.' I 've often been invited to join some of the +swell clubs here, but I never do it. By Jove! I 'd rather come down here +and fellowship right in with you fellows. I like coloured people, +anyway. It 's natural. You see, my father had a big plantation and owned +lots of slaves,--no offence, of course, but it was the custom of that +time,--and I 've played with little darkies ever since I could +remember." + +It was the same old story that the white who associates with negroes +from volition usually tells to explain his taste. + +The truth about the young reporter was that he was born and reared on a +Vermont farm, where his early life was passed in fighting for his very +subsistence. But this never troubled Skaggsy. He was a monumental liar, +and the saving quality about him was that he calmly believed his own +lies while he was telling them, so no one was hurt, for the deceiver +was as much a victim as the deceived. The boys who knew him best used to +say that when Skaggs got started on one of his debauches of lying, the +Recording Angel always put on an extra clerical force. + +"Now look at Maudie," he went on; "would you believe it that she was of +a fine, rich family, and that the coloured girl she 's dancing with now +used to be her servant? She 's just like me about that. Absolutely no +prejudice." + +Joe was wide-eyed with wonder and admiration, and he could n't +understand the amused expression on Thomas's face, nor why he +surreptitiously kicked him under the table. + +Finally the reporter went his way, and Joe's sponsor explained to him +that he was not to take in what Skaggsy said, and that there had n't +been a word of truth in it. He ended with, "Everybody knows Maudie, and +that coloured girl is Mamie Lacey, and never worked for anybody in her +life. Skaggsy 's a good fellah, all right, but he 's the biggest liar in +N' Yawk." + +The boy was distinctly shocked. He was n't sure but Thomas was jealous +of the attention the white man had shown him and wished to belittle it. +Anyway, he did not thank him for destroying his romance. + +About eleven o'clock, when the people began to drop in from the plays, +the master of ceremonies opened proceedings by saying that "The free +concert would now begin, and he hoped that all present, ladies included, +would act like gentlemen, and not forget the waiter. Mr. Meriweather +will now favour us with the latest coon song, entitled 'Come back to yo' +Baby, Honey.'" + +There was a patter of applause, and a young negro came forward, and in a +strident, music-hall voice, sung or rather recited with many gestures +the ditty. He could n't have been much older than Joe, but already his +face was hard with dissipation and foul knowledge. He gave the song +with all the rank suggestiveness that could be put into it. Joe looked +upon him as a hero. He was followed by a little, brown-skinned fellow +with an immature Vandyke beard and a lisp. He sung his own composition +and was funny; how much funnier than he himself knew or intended, may +not even be hinted at. Then, while an instrumentalist, who seemed to +have a grudge against the piano, was hammering out the opening bars of a +march, Joe's attention was attracted by a woman entering the room, and +from that moment he heard no more of the concert. Even when the master +of ceremonies announced with an air that, by special request, he himself +would sing "Answer,"--the request was his own,--he did not draw the +attention of the boy away from the yellow-skinned divinity who sat at a +near table, drinking whiskey straight. + +She was a small girl, with fluffy dark hair and good features. A tiny +foot peeped out from beneath her rattling silk skirts. She was a +good-looking young woman and daintily made, though her face was no +longer youthful, and one might have wished that with her complexion she +had not run to silk waists in magenta. + +Joe, however, saw no fault in her. She was altogether lovely to him, and +his delight was the more poignant as he recognised in her one of the +girls he had seen on the stage a couple of weeks ago. That being true, +nothing could keep her from being glorious in his eyes,--not even the +grease-paint which adhered in unneat patches to her face, nor her taste +for whiskey in its unreformed state. He gazed at her in ecstasy until +Thomas, turning to see what had attracted him, said with a laugh, "Oh, +it 's Hattie Sterling. Want to meet her?" + +Again the young fellow was dumb. Just then Hattie also noticed his +intent look, and nodded and beckoned to Thomas. + +"Come on," he said, rising. + +"Oh, she did n't ask for me," cried Joe, tremulous and eager. + +His companion went away laughing. + +"Who 's your young friend?" asked Hattie. + +"A fellah from the South." + +"Bring him over here." + +Joe could hardly believe in his own good luck, and his head, which was +getting a bit weak, was near collapsing when his divinity asked him what +he 'd have? He began to protest, until she told the waiter with an air +of authority to make it a little "'skey." Then she asked him for a +cigarette, and began talking to him in a pleasant, soothing way between +puffs. + +When the drinks came, she said to Thomas, "Now, old man, you 've been +awfully nice, but when you get your little drink, you run away like a +good little boy. You 're superfluous." + +Thomas answered, "Well, I like that," but obediently gulped his whiskey +and withdrew, while Joe laughed until the master of ceremonies stood up +and looked sternly at him. + +The concert had long been over and the room was less crowded when Thomas +sauntered back to the pair. + +"Well, good-night," he said. "Guess you can find your way home, Mr. +Hamilton;" and he gave Joe a long wink. + +"Goo'-night," said Joe, woozily, "I be a' ri'. Goo'-night." + +"Make it another 'skey," was Hattie's farewell remark. + + * * * * * + +It was late the next morning when Joe got home. He had a headache and a +sense of triumph that not even his illness and his mother's reproof +could subdue. + +He had promised Hattie to come often to the club. + + + + +X + +A VISITOR FROM HOME + + +Mrs. Hamilton began to question very seriously whether she had done the +best thing in coming to New York as she saw her son staying away more +and more and growing always farther away from her and his sister. Had +she known how and where he spent his evenings, she would have had even +greater cause to question the wisdom of their trip. She knew that +although he worked he never had any money for the house, and she foresaw +the time when the little they had would no longer suffice for Kitty and +her. Realising this, she herself set out to find something to do. + +It was a hard matter, for wherever she went seeking employment, it was +always for her and her daughter, for the more she saw of Mrs. Jones, the +less she thought it well to leave the girl under her influence. Mrs. +Hamilton was not a keen woman, but she had a mother's intuitions, and +she saw a subtle change in her daughter. At first the girl grew wistful +and then impatient and rebellious. She complained that Joe was away from +them so much enjoying himself, while she had to be housed up like a +prisoner. She had receded from her dignified position, and twice of an +evening had gone out for a car-ride with Thomas; but as that gentleman +never included the mother in his invitation, she decided that her +daughter should go no more, and she begged Joe to take his sister out +sometimes instead. He demurred at first, for he now numbered among his +city acquirements a fine contempt for his woman relatives. Finally, +however, he consented, and took Kit once to the theatre and once for a +ride. Each time he left her in the care of Thomas as soon as they were +out of the house, while he went to find or to wait for his dear Hattie. +But his mother did not know all this, and Kit did not tell her. The +quick poison of the unreal life about her had already begun to affect +her character. She had grown secretive and sly. The innocent longing +which in a burst of enthusiasm she had expressed that first night at the +theatre was growing into a real ambition with her, and she dropped the +simple old songs she knew to practise the detestable coon ditties which +the stage demanded. + +She showed no particular pleasure when her mother found the sort of +place they wanted, but went to work with her in sullen silence. Mrs. +Hamilton could not understand it all, and many a night she wept and +prayed over the change in this child of her heart. There were times when +she felt that there was nothing left to work or fight for. The letters +from Berry in prison became fewer and fewer. He was sinking into the +dull, dead routine of his life. Her own letters to him fell off. It was +hard getting the children to write. They did not want to be bothered, +and she could not write for herself. So in the weeks and months that +followed she drifted farther away from her children and husband and all +the traditions of her life. + +After Joe's first night at the Banner Club he had kept his promise to +Hattie Sterling and had gone often to meet her. She had taught him much, +because it was to her advantage to do so. His greenness had dropped from +him like a garment, but no amount of sophistication could make him deem +the woman less perfect. He knew that she was much older than he, but he +only took this fact as an additional sign of his prowess in having won +her. He was proud of himself when he went behind the scenes at the +theatre or waited for her at the stage door and bore her off under the +admiring eyes of a crowd of gapers. And Hattie? She liked him in a +half-contemptuous, half-amused way. He was a good-looking boy and made +money enough, as she expressed it, to show her a good time, so she was +willing to overlook his weakness and his callow vanity. + +"Look here," she said to him one day, "I guess you 'll have to be +moving. There 's a young lady been inquiring for you to-day, and I won't +stand for that." + +He looked at her, startled for a moment, until he saw the laughter in +her eyes. Then he caught her and kissed her. "What 're you givin' me?" +he said. + +"It 's a straight tip, that 's what." + +"Who is it?" + +"It 's a girl named Minty Brown from your home." + +His face turned brick-red with fear and shame. "Minty Brown!" he +stammered. + +Had that girl told all and undone him? But Hattie was going on about her +work and evidently knew nothing. + +"Oh, you need n't pretend you don't know her," she went on banteringly. +"She says you were great friends down South, so I 've invited her to +supper. She wants to see you." + +"To supper!" he thought. Was she mocking him? Was she restraining her +scorn of him only to make his humiliation the greater after a while? He +looked at her, but there was no suspicion of malice in her face, and he +took hope. + +"Well, I 'd like to see old Minty," he said. "It 's been many a long day +since I 've seen her." + +All that afternoon, after going to the barber-shop, Joe was driven by a +tempest of conflicting emotions. If Minty Brown had not told his story, +why not? Would she yet tell, and if she did, what would happen? He +tortured himself by questioning if Hattie would cast him off. At the +very thought his hand trembled, and the man in the chair asked him if he +had n't been drinking. + +When he met Minty in the evening, however, the first glance at her +reassured him. Her face was wreathed in smiles as she came forward and +held out her hand. + +"Well, well, Joe Hamilton," she exclaimed, "if I ain't right-down glad +to see you! How are you?" + +"I 'm middlin', Minty. How 's yourself?" He was so happy that he could +n't let go her hand. + +"An' jes' look at the boy! Ef he ain't got the impidence to be waihin' a +mustache too. You must 'a' been lettin' the cats lick yo' upper lip. Did +n't expect to see me in New York, did you?" + +"No, indeed. What you doin' here?" + +"Oh, I got a gent'man friend what 's a porter, an' his run 's been +changed so that he comes hyeah, an' he told me, if I wanted to come he +'d bring me thoo fur a visit, so, you see, hyeah I am. I allus was +mighty anxious to see this hyeah town. But tell me, how 's Kit an' yo' +ma?" + +"They 're both right well." He had forgotten them and their scorn of +Minty. + +"Whaih do you live? I 'm comin' roun' to see 'em." + +He hesitated for a moment. He knew how his mother, if not Kit, would +receive her, and yet he dared not anger this woman, who had his fate in +the hollow of her hand. + +She saw his hesitation and spoke up. "Oh, that 's all right. Let +by-gones be by-gones. You know I ain't the kin' o' person that holds a +grudge ag'in anybody." + +"That 's right, Minty, that 's right," he said, and gave her his +mother's address. Then he hastened home to prepare the way for Minty's +coming. Joe had no doubt but that his mother would see the matter quite +as he saw it, and be willing to temporise with Minty; but he had +reckoned without his host. Mrs. Hamilton might make certain concessions +to strangers on the score of expediency, but she absolutely refused to +yield one iota of her dignity to one whom she had known so long as an +inferior. + +"But don't you see what she can do for us, ma? She knows people that I +know, and she can ruin me with them." + +"I ain't never bowed my haid to Minty Brown an' I ain't a-goin' to do +it now," was his mother's only reply. + +"Oh, ma," Kitty put in, "you don't want to get talked about up here, do +you?" + +"We 'd jes' as well be talked about fu' somep'n we did n't do as fu' +somep'n we did do, an' it would n' be long befo' we 'd come to dat if we +made frien's wid dat Brown gal. I ain't a-goin' to do it. I 'm ashamed +o' you, Kitty, fu' wantin' me to." + +The girl began to cry, while her brother walked the floor angrily. + +"You 'll see what 'll happen," he cried; "you 'll see." + +Fannie looked at her son, and she seemed to see him more clearly than +she had ever seen him before,--his foppery, his meanness, his cowardice. + +"Well," she answered with a sigh, "it can't be no wuss den what 's +already happened." + +"You 'll see, you 'll see," the boy reiterated. + +Minty Brown allowed no wind of thought to cool the fire of her +determination. She left Hattie Sterling's soon after Joe, and he was +still walking the floor and uttering dire forebodings when she rang the +bell below and asked for the Hamiltons. + +Mrs. Jones ushered her into her fearfully upholstered parlour, and then +puffed up stairs to tell her lodgers that there was a friend there from +the South who wanted to see them. + +"Tell huh," said Mrs. Hamilton, "dat dey ain't no one hyeah wants to see +huh." + +"No, no," Kitty broke in. + +"Heish," said her mother; "I 'm goin' to boss you a little while yit." + +"Why, I don't understan' you, Mis' Hamilton," puffed Mrs. Jones. "She 's +a nice-lookin' lady, an' she said she knowed you at home." + +"All you got to do is to tell dat ooman jes' what I say." + +Minty Brown downstairs had heard the little colloquy, and, perceiving +that something was amiss, had come to the stairs to listen. Now her +voice, striving hard to be condescending and sweet, but growing harsh +with anger, floated up from below: + +"Oh, nevah min', lady, I ain't anxious to see 'em. I jest called out o' +pity, but I reckon dey 'shamed to see me 'cause de ol' man 's in +penitentiary an' dey was run out o' town." + +Mrs. Jones gasped, and then turned and went hastily downstairs. + +Kit burst out crying afresh, and Joe walked the floor muttering beneath +his breath, while the mother sat grimly watching the outcome. Finally +they heard Mrs. Jones' step once more on the stairs. She came in without +knocking, and her manner was distinctly unpleasant. + +"Mis' Hamilton," she said, "I 've had a talk with the lady downstairs, +an' she 's tol' me everything. I 'd be glad if you 'd let me have my +rooms as soon as possible." + +"So you goin' to put me out on de wo'd of a stranger?" + +"I 'm kin' o' sorry, but everybody in the house heard what Mis' Brown +said, an' it 'll soon be all over town, an' that 'ud ruin the reputation +of my house." + +"I reckon all dat kin be 'splained." + +"Yes, but I don't know that anybody kin 'splain your daughter allus +being with Mr. Thomas, who ain't even divo'ced from his wife." She +flashed a vindictive glance at the girl, who turned deadly pale and +dropped her head in her hands. + +"You daih to say dat, Mis' Jones, you dat fust interduced my gal to dat +man and got huh to go out wid him? I reckon you 'd bettah go now." + +And Mrs. Jones looked at Fannie's face and obeyed. + +As soon as the woman's back was turned, Joe burst out, "There, there! +see what you 've done with your damned foolishness." + +Fannie turned on him like a tigress. "Don't you cuss hyeah befo' me; I +ain't nevah brung you up to it, an' I won't stan' it. Go to dem whaih +you larned it, an whaih de wo'ds soun' sweet." The boy started to +speak, but she checked him. "Don't you daih to cuss ag'in or befo' Gawd +dey 'll be somep'n fu' one o' dis fambly to be rottin' in jail fu'!" + +The boy was cowed by his mother's manner. He was gathering his few +belongings in a bundle. + +"I ain't goin' to cuss," he said sullenly, "I 'm goin' out o' your way." + +"Oh, go on," she said, "go on. It 's been a long time sence you been my +son. You on yo' way to hell, an' you is been fu' lo dese many days." + +Joe got out of the house as soon as possible. He did not speak to Kit +nor look at his mother. He felt like a cur, because he knew deep down in +his heart that he had only been waiting for some excuse to take this +step. + +As he slammed the door behind him, his mother flung herself down by +Kit's side and mingled her tears with her daughter's. But Kit did not +raise her head. + +"Dey ain't nothin' lef' but you now, Kit;" but the girl did not speak, +she only shook with hard sobs. + +Then her mother raised her head and almost screamed, "My Gawd, not you, +Kit!" The girl rose, and then dropped unconscious in her mother's arms. + +Joe took his clothes to a lodging-house that he knew of, and then went +to the club to drink himself up to the point of going to see Hattie +after the show. + + + + +XI + +BROKEN HOPES + + +What Joe Hamilton lacked more than anything else in the world was some +one to kick him. Many a man who might have lived decently and become a +fairly respectable citizen has gone to the dogs for the want of some one +to administer a good resounding kick at the right time. It is corrective +and clarifying. + +Joe needed especially its clarifying property, for though he knew +himself a cur, he went away from his mother's house feeling himself +somehow aggrieved, and the feeling grew upon him the more he thought of +it. His mother had ruined his chance in life, and he could never hold up +his head again. Yes, he had heard that several of the fellows at the +club had shady reputations, but surely to be the son of a thief or a +supposed thief was not like being the criminal himself. + +At the Banner he took a seat by himself, and, ordering a cocktail, sat +glowering at the few other lonely members who had happened to drop in. +There were not many of them, and the contagion of unsociability had +taken possession of the house. The people sat scattered around at +different tables, perfectly unmindful of the bartender, who cursed them +under his breath for not "getting together." + +Joe's mind was filled with bitter thoughts. How long had he been away +from home? he asked himself. Nearly a year. Nearly a year passed in New +York, and he had come to be what he so much desired,--a part of its fast +life,--and now in a moment an old woman's stubbornness had destroyed all +that he had builded. + +What would Thomas say when he heard it? What would the other fellows +think? And Hattie? It was plain that she would never notice him again. +He had no doubt but that the malice of Minty Brown would prompt her to +seek out all of his friends and make the story known. Why had he not +tried to placate her by disavowing sympathy with his mother? He would +have had no compunction about doing so, but he had thought of it too +late. He sat brooding over his trouble until the bartender called with +respectful sarcasm to ask if he wanted to lease the glass he had. + +He gave back a silly laugh, gulped the rest of the liquor down, and was +ordering another when Sadness came in. He came up directly to Joe and +sat down beside him. "Mr. Hamilton says 'Make it two, Jack,'" he said +with easy familiarity. "Well, what 's the matter, old man? You 're +looking glum." + +"I feel glum." + +"The divine Hattie has n't been cutting any capers, has she? The dear +old girl has n't been getting hysterical at her age? Let us hope not." + +Joe glared at him. Why in the devil should this fellow be so sadly gay +when he was weighted down with sorrow and shame and disgust? + +"Come, come now, Hamilton, if you 're sore because I invited myself to +take a drink with you, I 'll withdraw the order. I know the heroic thing +to say is that I 'll pay for the drinks myself, but I can't screw my +courage up to the point of doing so unnatural a thing." + +Young Hamilton hastened to protest. "Oh, I know you fellows now well +enough to know how many drinks to pay for. It ain't that." + +"Well, then, out with it. What is it? Have n't been up to anything, have +you?" + +The desire came to Joe to tell this man the whole truth, just what was +the matter, and so to relieve his heart. On the impulse he did. If he +had expected much from Sadness he was disappointed, for not a muscle of +the man's face changed during the entire recital. + +When it was over, he looked at his companion critically through a wreath +of smoke. Then he said: "For a fellow who has had for a full year the +advantage of the education of the New York clubs, you are strangely +young. Let me see, you are nineteen or twenty now--yes. Well, that +perhaps accounts for it. It 's a pity you were n't born older. It 's a +pity most men are n't. They would n't have to take so much time and lose +so many good things learning. Now, Mr. Hamilton, let me tell you, and +you will pardon me for it, that you are a fool. Your case is n't half as +bad as that of nine-tenths of the fellows that hang around here. Now, +for instance, my father was hung." + +Joe started and gave a gasp of horror. + +"Oh, yes, but it was done with a very good rope and by the best citizens +of Texas, so it seems that I really ought to be very grateful to them +for the distinction they conferred upon my family, but I am not. I am +ungratefully sad. A man must be very high or very low to take the +sensible view of life that keeps him from being sad. I must confess that +I have aspired to the depths without ever being fully able to reach +them. + +"Now look around a bit. See that little girl over there? That 's Viola. +Two years ago she wrenched up an iron stool from the floor of a +lunch-room, and killed another woman with it. She 's nineteen,--just +about your age, by the way. Well, she had friends with a certain amount +of pull. She got out of it, and no one thinks the worse of Viola. You +see, Hamilton, in this life we are all suffering from fever, and no one +edges away from the other because he finds him a little warm. It 's +dangerous when you 're not used to it; but once you go through the +parching process, you become inoculated against further contagion. Now, +there 's Barney over there, as decent a fellow as I know; but he has +been indicted twice for pocket-picking. A half-dozen fellows whom you +meet here every night have killed their man. Others have done worse +things for which you respect them less. Poor Wallace, who is just coming +in, and who looks like a jaunty ragpicker, came here about six months +ago with about two thousand dollars, the proceeds from the sale of a +house his father had left him. He 'll sleep in one of the club chairs +to-night, and not from choice. He spent his two thousand learning. But, +after all, it was a good investment. It was like buying an annuity. He +begins to know already how to live on others as they have lived on him. +The plucked bird's beak is sharpened for other's feathers. From now on +Wallace will live, eat, drink, and sleep at the expense of others, and +will forget to mourn his lost money. He will go on this way until, +broken and useless, the poor-house or the potter's field gets him. Oh, +it 's a fine, rich life, my lad. I know you 'll like it. I said you +would the first time I saw you. It has plenty of stir in it, and a man +never gets lonesome. Only the rich are lonesome. It 's only the +independent who depend upon others." + +Sadness laughed a peculiar laugh, and there was a look in his terribly +bright eyes that made Joe creep. If he could only have understood all +that the man was saying to him, he might even yet have turned back. But +he did n't. He ordered another drink. The only effect that the talk of +Sadness had upon him was to make him feel wonderfully "in it." It gave +him a false bravery, and he mentally told himself that now he would not +be afraid to face Hattie. + +He put out his hand to Sadness with a knowing look. "Thanks, Sadness," +he said, "you 've helped me lots." + +Sadness brushed the proffered hand away and sprung up. "You lie," he +cried, "I have n't; I was only fool enough to try;" and he turned +hastily away from the table. + +Joe looked surprised at first, and then laughed at his friend's +retreating form. "Poor old fellow," he said, "drunk again. Must have had +something before he came in." + +There was not a lie in all that Sadness had said either as to their +crime or their condition. He belonged to a peculiar class,--one that +grows larger and larger each year in New York and which has imitators in +every large city in this country. It is a set which lives, like the +leech, upon the blood of others,--that draws its life from the veins of +foolish men and immoral women, that prides itself upon its well-dressed +idleness and has no shame in its voluntary pauperism. Each member of the +class knows every other, his methods and his limitations, and their +loyalty one to another makes of them a great hulking, fashionably +uniformed fraternity of indolence. Some play the races a few months of +the year; others, quite as intermittently, gamble at "shoestring" +politics, and waver from party to party as time or their interests seem +to dictate. But mostly they are like the lilies of the field. + +It was into this set that Sadness had sarcastically invited Joe, and +Joe felt honoured. He found that all of his former feelings had been +silly and quite out of place; that all he had learned in his earlier +years was false. It was very plain to him now that to want a good +reputation was the sign of unpardonable immaturity, and that dishonour +was the only real thing worth while. It made him feel better. + +He was just rising bravely to swagger out to the theatre when Minty +Brown came in with one of the club-men he knew. He bowed and smiled, but +she appeared not to notice him at first, and when she did she nudged her +companion and laughed. + +Suddenly his little courage began to ooze out, and he knew what she must +be saying to the fellow at her side, for he looked over at him and +grinned. Where now was the philosophy of Sadness? Evidently Minty had +not been brought under its educating influences, and thought about the +whole matter in the old, ignorant way. He began to think of it too. +Somehow old teachings and old traditions have an annoying way of coming +back upon us in the critical moments of life, although one has long ago +recognised how much truer and better some newer ways of thinking are. +But Joe would not allow Minty to shatter his dreams by bringing up these +old notions. She must be instructed. + +He rose and went over to her table. + +"Why, Minty," he said, offering his hand, "you ain't mad at me, are +you?" + +"Go on away f'om hyeah," she said angrily; "I don't want none o' +thievin' Berry Hamilton's fambly to speak to me." + +"Why, you were all right this evening." + +"Yes, but jest out o' pity, an' you was nice 'cause you was afraid I 'd +tell on you. Go on now." + +"Go on now," said Minty's young man; and he looked menacing. + +Joe, what little self-respect he had gone, slunk out of the room and +needed several whiskeys in a neighbouring saloon to give him courage to +go to the theatre and wait for Hattie, who was playing in vaudeville +houses pending the opening of her company. + +The closing act was just over when he reached the stage door. He was +there but a short time, when Hattie tripped out and took his arm. Her +face was bright and smiling, and there was no suggestion of disgust in +the dancing eyes she turned up to him. Evidently she had not heard, but +the thought gave him no particular pleasure, as it left him in suspense +as to how she would act when she should hear. + +"Let 's go somewhere and get some supper," she said; "I 'm as hungry as +I can be. What are you looking so cut up about?" + +"Oh, I ain't feelin' so very good." + +"I hope you ain't lettin' that long-tongued Brown woman bother your +head, are you?" + +His heart seemed to stand still. She did know, then. + +"Do you know all about it?" + +"Why, of course I do. You might know she 'd come to me first with her +story." + +"And you still keep on speaking to me?" + +"Now look here, Joe, if you 've been drinking, I 'll forgive you; if you +ain't, you go on and leave me. Say, what do you take me for? Do you +think I 'd throw down a friend because somebody else talked about him? +Well, you don't know Hat Sterling. When Minty told me that story, she +was back in my dressing-room, and I sent her out o' there a-flying, and +with a tongue-lashing that she won't forget for a month o' Sundays." + +"I reckon that was the reason she jumped on me so hard at the club." He +chuckled. He had taken heart again. All that Sadness had said was true, +after all, and people thought no less of him. His joy was unbounded. + +"So she jumped on you hard, did she? The cat!" + +"Oh, she did n't say a thing to me." + +"Well, Joe, it 's just like this. I ain't an angel, you know that, but I +do try to be square, and whenever I find a friend of mine down on his +luck, in his pocket-book or his feelings, why, I give him my flipper. +Why, old chap, I believe I like you better for the stiff upper lip you +'ve been keeping under all this." + +"Why, Hattie," he broke out, unable any longer to control himself, "you +'re--you 're----" + +"Oh, I 'm just plain Hat Sterling, who won't throw down her friends. Now +come on and get something to eat. If that thing is at the club, we 'll +go there and show her just how much her talk amounted to. She thinks she +'s the whole game, but I can spot her and then show her that she ain't +one, two, three." + +When they reached the Banner, they found Minty still there. She tried on +the two the same tactics that she had employed so successfully upon Joe +alone. She nudged her companion and tittered. But she had another +person to deal with. Hattie Sterling stared at her coldly and +indifferently, and passed on by her to a seat. Joe proceeded to order +supper and other things in the nonchalant way that the woman had +enjoined upon him. Minty began to feel distinctly uncomfortable, but it +was her business not to be beaten. She laughed outright. Hattie did not +seem to hear her. She was beckoning Sadness to her side. He came and sat +down. + +"Now look here," she said, "you can't have any supper because you have +n't reached the stage of magnificent hunger to make a meal palatable to +you. You 've got so used to being nearly starved that a meal don't taste +good to you under any other circumstances. You 're in on the drinks, +though. Your thirst is always available.--Jack," she called down the +long room to the bartender, "make it three.--Lean over here, I want to +talk to you. See that woman over there by the wall? No, not that +one,--the big light woman with Griggs. Well, she 's come here with a +story trying to throw Joe down, and I want you to help me do her." + +"Oh, that 's the one that upset our young friend, is it?" said Sadness, +turning his mournful eyes upon Minty. + +"That 's her. So you know about it, do you?" + +"Yes, and I 'll help do her. She must n't touch one of the fraternity, +you know." He kept his eyes fixed upon the outsider until she squirmed. +She could not at all understand this serious conversation directed at +her. She wondered if she had gone too far and if they contemplated +putting her out. It made her uneasy. + +Now, this same Miss Sterling had the faculty of attracting a good deal +of attention when she wished to. She brought it into play to-night, and +in ten minutes, aided by Sadness, she had a crowd of jolly people about +her table. When, as she would have expressed it, "everything was going +fat," she suddenly paused and, turning her eyes full upon Minty, said in +a voice loud enough for all to hear,-- + +"Say, boys, you 've heard that story about Joe, have n't you?" + +They had. + +"Well, that 's the one that told it; she 's come here to try to throw +him and me down. Is she going to do it?" + +"Well, I guess not!" was the rousing reply, and every face turned +towards the now frightened Minty. She rose hastily and, getting her +skirts together, fled from the room, followed more leisurely by the +crestfallen Griggs. Hattie's laugh and "Thank you, fellows," followed +her out. + + * * * * * + +Matters were less easy for Joe's mother and sister than they were for +him. A week or more after this, Kitty found him and told him that +Minty's story had reached their employers and that they were out of +work. + +"You see, Joe," she said sadly, "we 've took a flat since we moved from +Mis' Jones', and we had to furnish it. We 've got one lodger, a +race-horse man, an' he 's mighty nice to ma an' me, but that ain't +enough. Now we 've got to do something." + +Joe was so smitten with sorrow that he gave her a dollar and promised to +speak about the matter to a friend of his. + +He did speak about it to Hattie. + +"You 've told me once or twice that your sister could sing. Bring her +down here to me, and if she can do anything, I 'll get her a place on +the stage," was Hattie's answer. + +When Kitty heard it she was radiant, but her mother only shook her head +and said, "De las' hope, de las' hope." + + + + +XII + +"ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE" + + +Kitty proved herself Joe's sister by falling desperately in love with +Hattie Sterling the first time they met. The actress was very gracious +to her, and called her "child" in a pretty, patronising way, and patted +her on the cheek. + +"It 's a shame that Joe has n't brought you around before. We 've been +good friends for quite some time." + +"He told me you an' him was right good friends." + +Already Joe took on a new importance in his sister's eyes. He must be +quite a man, she thought, to be the friend of such a person as Miss +Sterling. + +"So you think you want to go on the stage, do you?" + +"Yes, 'm, I thought it might be right nice for me if I could." + +"Joe, go out and get some beer for us, and then I 'll hear your sister +sing." + +Miss Sterling talked as if she were a manager and had only to snap her +fingers to be obeyed. When Joe came back with the beer, Kitty drank a +glass. She did not like it, but she would not offend her hostess. After +this she sang, and Miss Sterling applauded her generously, although the +young girl's nervousness kept her from doing her best. The encouragement +helped her, and she did better as she became more at home. + +"Why, child, you 've got a good voice. And, Joe, you 've been keeping +her shut up all this time. You ought to be ashamed of yourself." + +The young man had little to say. He had brought Kitty almost under a +protest, because he had no confidence in her ability and thought that +his "girl" would disillusion her. It did not please him now to find his +sister so fully under the limelight and himself "up stage." + +Kitty was quite in a flutter of delight; not so much with the idea of +working as with the glamour of the work she might be allowed to do. + +"I tell you, now," Hattie Sterling pursued, throwing a brightly +stockinged foot upon a chair, "your voice is too good for the chorus. +Gi' me a cigarette, Joe. Have one, Kitty?--I 'm goin' to call you Kitty. +It 's nice and homelike, and then we 've got to be great chums, you +know." + +Kitty, unwilling to refuse anything from the sorceress, took her +cigarette and lighted it, but a few puffs set her off coughing. + +"Tut, tut, Kitty, child, don't do it if you ain't used to it. You 'll +learn soon enough." + +Joe wanted to kick his sister for having tried so delicate an art and +failed, for he had not yet lost all of his awe of Hattie. + +"Now, what I was going to say," the lady resumed after several +contemplative puffs, "is that you 'll have to begin in the chorus any +way and work your way up. It would n't take long for you, with your +looks and voice, to put one of the 'up and ups' out o' the business. +Only hope it won't be me. I 've had people I 've helped try to do it +often enough." + +She gave a laugh that had just a touch of bitterness in it, for she +began to recognise that although she had been on the stage only a short +time, she was no longer the all-conquering Hattie Sterling, in the first +freshness of her youth. + +"Oh, I would n't want to push anybody out," Kit expostulated. + +"Oh, never mind, you 'll soon get bravely over that feeling, and even if +you did n't it would n't matter much. The thing has to happen. Somebody +'s got to go down. We don't last long in this life: it soon wears us +out, and when we 're worn out and sung out, danced out and played out, +the manager has no further use for us; so he reduces us to the ranks or +kicks us out entirely." + +Joe here thought it time for him to put in a word. "Get out, Hat," he +said contemptuously; "you 're good for a dozen years yet." + +She did n't deign to notice him, save so far as a sniff goes. + +"Don't you let what I say scare you, though, Kitty. You 've got a good +chance, and maybe you 'll have more sense than I 've got, and at least +save money--while you 're in it. But let 's get off that. It makes me +sick. All you 've got to do is to come to the opera-house to-morrow and +I 'll introduce you to the manager. He 's a fool, but I think we can +make him do something for you." + +"Oh, thank you, I 'll be around to-morrow, sure." + +"Better come about ten o'clock. There 's a rehearsal to-morrow, and you +'ll find him there. Of course, he 'll be pretty rough, he always is at +rehearsals, but he 'll take to you if he thinks there 's anything in you +and he can get it out." + +Kitty felt herself dismissed and rose to go. Joe did not rise. + +"I 'll see you later, Kit," he said; "I ain't goin' just yet. Say," he +added, when his sister was gone, "you 're a hot one. What do you want to +give her all that con for? She 'll never get in." + +"Joe," said Hattie, "don't you get awful tired of being a jackass? +Sometimes I want to kiss you, and sometimes I feel as if I had to kick +you. I 'll compromise with you now by letting you bring me some more +beer. This got all stale while your sister was here. I saw she did n't +like it, and so I would n't drink any more for fear she 'd try to keep +up with me." + +"Kit is a good deal of a jay yet," Joe remarked wisely. + +"Oh, yes, this world is full of jays. Lots of 'em have seen enough to +make 'em wise, but they 're still jays, and don't know it. That 's the +worst of it. They go around thinking they 're it, when they ain't even +in the game. Go on and get the beer." + +And Joe went, feeling vaguely that he had been sat upon. + +Kit flew home with joyous heart to tell her mother of her good +prospects. She burst into the room, crying, "Oh, ma, ma, Miss Hattie +thinks I 'll do to go on the stage. Ain't it grand?" + +She did not meet with the expected warmth of response from her mother. + +"I do' know as it 'll be so gran'. F'om what I see of dem stage people +dey don't seem to 'mount to much. De way dem gals shows demse'ves is +right down bad to me. Is you goin' to dress lak dem we seen dat night?" + +Kit hung her head. + +"I guess I 'll have to." + +"Well, ef you have to, I 'd ruther see you daid any day. Oh, Kit, my +little gal, don't do it, don't do it. Don't you go down lak yo' brothah +Joe. Joe 's gone." + +"Why, ma, you don't understand. Joe 's somebody now. You ought to 've +heard how Miss Hattie talked about him. She said he 's been her friend +for a long while." + +"Her frien', yes, an' his own inimy. You need n' pattern aftah dat gal, +Kit. She ruint Joe, an' she 's aftah you now." + +"But nowadays everybody thinks stage people respectable up here." + +"Maybe I 'm ol'-fashioned, but I can't believe in any ooman's ladyship +when she shows herse'f lak dem gals does. Oh, Kit, don't do it. Ain't +you seen enough? Don't you know enough already to stay away f'om dese +hyeah people? Dey don't want nothin' but to pull you down an' den laugh +at you w'en you 's dragged in de dust." + +"You must n't feel that away, ma. I 'm doin' it to help you." + +"I do' want no sich help. I 'd ruther starve." + +Kit did not reply, but there was no yielding in her manner. + +"Kit," her mother went on, "dey 's somep'n I ain't nevah tol' you dat I +'m goin' to tell you now. Mistah Gibson ust to come to Mis' Jones's lots +to see me befo' we moved hyeah, an' he 's been talkin' 'bout a good +many things to me." She hesitated. "He say dat I ain't noways ma'ied to +my po' husban', dat a pen'tentiary sentence is de same as a divo'ce, an' +if Be'y should live to git out, we 'd have to ma'y ag'in. I would n't +min' dat, Kit, but he say dat at Be'y's age dey ain't much chanst of his +livin' to git out, an' hyeah I 'll live all dis time alone, an' den have +no one to tek keer o' me w'en I git ol'. He wants me to ma'y him, Kit. +Kit, I love yo' fathah; he 's my only one. But Joe, he 's gone, an' ef +yo go, befo' Gawd I 'll tell Tawm Gibson yes." + +The mother looked up to see just what effect her plea would have on her +daughter. She hoped that what she said would have the desired result. +But the girl turned around from fixing her neck-ribbon before the glass, +her face radiant. "Why, it 'll be splendid. He 's such a nice man, an' +race-horse men 'most always have money. Why don't you marry him, ma? +Then I 'd feel that you was safe an' settled, an' that you would n't be +lonesome when the show was out of town." + +"You want me to ma'y him an' desert yo' po' pa?" + +"I guess what he says is right, ma. I don't reckon we 'll ever see pa +again an' you got to do something. You got to live for yourself now." + +Her mother dropped her head in her hands. "All right," she said, "I 'll +do it; I 'll ma'y him. I might as well go de way both my chillen 's +gone. Po' Be'y, po' Be'y. Ef you evah do come out, Gawd he'p you to baih +what you 'll fin'." And Mrs. Hamilton rose and tottered from the room, +as if the old age she anticipated had already come upon her. + +Kit stood looking after her, fear and grief in her eyes. "Poor ma," she +said, "an' poor pa. But I know, an' I know it 's for the best." + +On the next morning she was up early and practising hard for her +interview with the managing star of "Martin's Blackbirds." + +When she arrived at the theatre, Hattie Sterling met her with frank +friendliness. + +"I 'm glad you came early, Kitty," she remarked, "for maybe you can get +a chance to talk with Martin before he begins rehearsal and gets all +worked up. He 'll be a little less like a bear then. But even if you +don't see him before then, wait, and don't get scared if he tries to +bluff you. His bark is a good deal worse than his bite." + +When Mr. Martin came in that morning, he had other ideas than that of +seeing applicants for places. His show must begin in two weeks, and it +was advertised to be larger and better than ever before, when really +nothing at all had been done for it. The promise of this advertisement +must be fulfilled. Mr. Martin was late, and was out of humour with every +one else on account of it. He came in hurried, fierce, and important. + +"Mornin', Mr. Smith, mornin', Mrs. Jones. Ha, ladies and gentlemen, all +here?" + +He shot every word out of his mouth as if the after-taste of it were +unpleasant to him. He walked among the chorus like an angry king among +his vassals, and his glance was a flash of insolent fire. From his head +to his feet he was the very epitome of self-sufficient, brutal conceit. + +Kitty trembled as she noted the hush that fell on the people at his +entrance. She felt like rushing out of the room. She could never face +this terrible man. She trembled more as she found his eyes fixed upon +her. + +"Who 's that?" he asked, disregarding her, as if she had been a stick or +a stone. + +"Well, don't snap her head off. It 's a girl friend of mine that wants a +place," said Hattie. She was the only one who would brave Martin. + +"Humph. Let her wait. I ain't got no time to hear any one now. Get +yourselves in line, you all who are on to that first chorus, while I 'm +getting into my sweat-shirt." + +He disappeared behind a screen, whence he emerged arrayed, or only half +arrayed, in a thick absorbing shirt and a thin pair of woollen trousers. +Then the work began. The man was indefatigable. He was like the spirit +of energy. He was in every place about the stage at once, leading the +chorus, showing them steps, twisting some awkward girl into shape, +shouting, gesticulating, abusing the pianist. + +"Now, now," he would shout, "the left foot on that beat. Bah, bah, stop! +You walk like a lot of tin soldiers. Are your joints rusty? Do you want +oil? Look here, Taylor, if I did n't know you, I 'd take you for a +truck. Pick up your feet, open your mouths, and move, move, move! Oh!" +and he would drop his head in despair. "And to think that I 've got to +do something with these things in two weeks--two weeks!" Then he would +turn to them again with a sudden reaccession of eagerness. "Now, at it +again, at it again! Hold that note, hold it! Now whirl, and on the left +foot. Stop that music, stop it! Miss Coster, you 'll learn that step in +about a thousand years, and I 've got nine hundred and ninety-nine years +and fifty weeks less time than that to spare. Come here and try that +step with me. Don't be afraid to move. Step like a chicken on a hot +griddle!" And some blushing girl would come forward and go through the +step alone before all the rest. + +Kitty contemplated the scene with a mind equally divided between fear +and anger. What should she do if he should so speak to her? Like the +others, no doubt, smile sheepishly and obey him. But she did not like to +believe it. She felt that the independence which she had known from +babyhood would assert itself, and that she would talk back to him, even +as Hattie Sterling did. She felt scared and discouraged, but every now +and then her friend smiled encouragingly upon her across the ranks of +moving singers. + +Finally, however, her thoughts were broken in upon by hearing Mr. Martin +cry: "Oh, quit, quit, and go rest yourselves, you ancient pieces of +hickory, and let me forget you for a minute before I go crazy. Where 's +that new girl now?" + +Kitty rose and went toward him, trembling so that she could hardly walk. + +"What can you do?" + +"I can sing," very faintly. + +"Well, if that 's the voice you 're going to sing in, there won't be +many that 'll know whether it 's good or bad. Well, let 's hear +something. Do you know any of these?" + +And he ran over the titles of several songs. She knew some of them, and +he selected one. "Try this. Here, Tom, play it for her." + +It was an ordeal for the girl to go through. She had never sung before +at anything more formidable than a church concert, where only her +immediate acquaintances and townspeople were present. Now to sing before +all these strange people, themselves singers, made her feel faint and +awkward. But the courage of desperation came to her, and she struck into +the song. At the first her voice wavered and threatened to fail her. It +must not. She choked back her fright and forced the music from her lips. + +When she was done, she was startled to hear Martin burst into a raucous +laugh. Such humiliation! She had failed, and instead of telling her, he +was bringing her to shame before the whole company. The tears came into +her eyes, and she was about giving way when she caught a reassuring nod +and smile from Hattie Sterling, and seized on this as a last hope. + +"Haw, haw, haw!" laughed Martin, "haw, haw, haw! The little one was +scared, see? She was scared, d' you understand? But did you see the grit +she went at it with? Just took the bit in her teeth and got away. Haw, +haw, haw! Now, that 's what I like. If all you girls had that spirit, we +could do something in two weeks. Try another one, girl." + +Kitty's heart had suddenly grown light. She sang the second one better +because something within her was singing. + +"Good!" said Martin, but he immediately returned to his cold manner. +"You watch these girls close and see what they do, and to-morrow be +prepared to go into line and move as well as sing." + +He immediately turned his attention from her to the chorus, but no +slight that he could inflict upon her now could take away the sweet +truth that she was engaged and to-morrow would begin work. She wished +she could go over and embrace Hattie Sterling. She thought kindly of +Joe, and promised herself to give him a present out of her first month's +earnings. + +On the first night of the show pretty little Kitty Hamilton was pointed +out as a girl who would n't be in the chorus long. The mother, who was +soon to be Mrs. Gibson, sat in the balcony, a grieved, pained look on +her face. Joe was in a front row with some of the rest of the gang. He +took many drinks between the acts, because he was proud. + +Mr. Thomas was there. He also was proud, and after the performance he +waited for Kitty at the stage door and went forward to meet her as she +came out. The look she gave him stopped him, and he let her pass without +a word. + +"Who 'd 'a' thought," he mused, "that the kid had that much nerve? Well, +if they don't want to find out things, what do they come to N' Yawk for? +It ain't nobody's old Sunday-school picnic. Guess I got out easy, +anyhow." + +Hattie Sterling took Joe home in a hansom. + +"Say," she said, "if you come this way for me again, it 's all over, +see? Your little sister 's a comer, and I 've got to hustle to keep up +with her." + +Joe growled and fell asleep in his chair. One must needs have a strong +head or a strong will when one is the brother of a celebrity and would +celebrate the distinguished one's success. + + + + +XIII + +THE OAKLEYS + + +A year after the arrest of Berry Hamilton, and at a time when New York +had shown to the eyes of his family so many strange new sights, there +were few changes to be noted in the condition of affairs at the Oakley +place. Maurice Oakley was perhaps a shade more distrustful of his +servants, and consequently more testy with them. Mrs. Oakley was the +same acquiescent woman, with unbounded faith in her husband's wisdom and +judgment. With complacent minds both went their ways, drank their wine, +and said their prayers, and wished that brother Frank's five years were +past. They had letters from him now and then, never very cheerful in +tone, but always breathing the deepest love and gratitude to them. + +His brother found deep cause for congratulation in the tone of these +epistles. + +"Frank is getting down to work," he would cry exultantly. "He is past +the first buoyant enthusiasm of youth. Ah, Leslie, when a man begins to +be serious, then he begins to be something." And her only answer would +be, "I wonder, Maurice, if Claire Lessing will wait for him?" + +The two had frequent questions to answer as to Frank's doing and +prospects, and they had always bright things to say of him, even when +his letters gave them no such warrant. Their love for him made them read +large between the lines, and all they read was good. + +Between Maurice and his brother no word of the guilty servant ever +passed. They each avoided it as an unpleasant subject. Frank had never +asked and his brother had never proffered aught of the outcome of the +case. + +Mrs. Oakley had once suggested it. "Brother ought to know," she said, +"that Berry is being properly punished." + +"By no means," replied her husband. "You know that it would only hurt +him. He shall never know if I have to tell him." + +"You are right, Maurice, you are always right. We must shield Frank from +the pain it would cause him. Poor fellow! he is so sensitive." + +Their hearts were still steadfastly fixed upon the union of this younger +brother with Claire Lessing. She had lately come into a fortune, and +there was nothing now to prevent it. They would have written Frank to +urge it, but they both believed that to try to woo him away from his art +was but to make him more wayward. That any woman could have power enough +to take him away from this jealous mistress they very much doubted. But +they could hope, and hope made them eager to open every letter that bore +the French postmark. Always it might contain news that he was coming +home, or that he had made a great success, or, better, some inquiry +after Claire. A long time they had waited, but found no such tidings in +the letters from Paris. + +At last, as Maurice Oakley sat in his library one day, the servant +brought him a letter more bulky in weight and appearance than any he had +yet received. His eyes glistened with pleasure as he read the postmark. +"A letter from Frank," he said joyfully, "and an important one, I 'll +wager." + +He smiled as he weighed it in his hand and caressed it. Mrs. Oakley was +out shopping, and as he knew how deep her interest was, he hesitated to +break the seal before she returned. He curbed his natural desire and +laid the heavy envelope down on the desk. But he could not deny himself +the pleasure of speculating as to its contents. + +It was such a large, interesting-looking package. What might it not +contain? It simply reeked of possibilities. Had any one banteringly told +Maurice Oakley that he had such a deep vein of sentiment, he would have +denied it with scorn and laughter. But here he found himself sitting +with the letter in his hand and weaving stories as to its contents. + +First, now, it might be a notice that Frank had received the badge of +the Legion of Honour. No, no, that was too big, and he laughed aloud at +his own folly, wondering the next minute, with half shame, why he +laughed, for did he, after all, believe anything was too big for that +brother of his? Well, let him begin, anyway, away down. Let him say, for +instance, that the letter told of the completion and sale of a great +picture. Frank had sold small ones. He would be glad of this, for his +brother had written him several times of things that were a-doing, but +not yet of anything that was done. Or, better yet, let the letter say +that some picture, long finished, but of which the artist's pride and +anxiety had forbidden him to speak, had made a glowing success, the +success it deserved. This sounded well, and seemed not at all beyond the +bounds of possibility. It was an alluring vision. He saw the picture +already. It was a scene from life, true in detail to the point of very +minuteness, and yet with something spiritual in it that lifted it above +the mere copy of the commonplace. At the Salon it would be hung on the +line, and people would stand before it admiring its workmanship and +asking who the artist was. He drew on his memory of old reading. In his +mind's eye he saw Frank, unconscious of his own power or too modest to +admit it, stand unknown among the crowds around his picture waiting for +and dreading their criticisms. He saw the light leap to his eyes as he +heard their words of praise. He saw the straightening of his narrow +shoulders when he was forced to admit that he was the painter of the +work. Then the windows of Paris were filled with his portraits. The +papers were full of his praise, and brave men and fair women met +together to do him homage. Fair women, yes, and Frank would look upon +them all and see reflected in them but a tithe of the glory of one +woman, and that woman Claire Lessing. He roused himself and laughed +again as he tapped the magic envelope. + +"My fancies go on and conquer the world for my brother," he muttered. +"He will follow their flight one day and do it himself." + +The letter drew his eyes back to it. It seemed to invite him, to beg him +even. "No, I will not do it; I will wait until Leslie comes. She will be +as glad to hear the good news as I am." + +His dreams were taking the shape of reality in his mind, and he was +believing all that he wanted to believe. + +He turned to look at a picture painted by Frank which hung over the +mantel. He dwelt lovingly upon it, seeing in it the touch of a genius. + +"Surely," he said, "this new picture cannot be greater than that, though +it shall hang where kings can see it and this only graces the library of +my poor house. It has the feeling of a woman's soul with the strength +of a man's heart. When Frank and Claire marry, I shall give it back to +them. It is too great a treasure for a clod like me. Heigho, why will +women be so long a-shopping?" + +He glanced again at the letter, and his hand went out involuntarily +towards it. He fondled it, smiling. + +"Ah, Lady Leslie, I 've a mind to open it to punish you for staying so +long." + +He essayed to be playful, but he knew that he was trying to make a +compromise with himself because his eagerness grew stronger than his +gallantry. He laid the letter down and picked it up again. He studied +the postmark over and over. He got up and walked to the window and back +again, and then began fumbling in his pockets for his knife. No, he did +not want it; yes, he did. He would just cut the envelope and make +believe he had read it to pique his wife; but he would not read it. Yes, +that was it. He found the knife and slit the paper. His fingers +trembled as he touched the sheets that protruded. Why would not Leslie +come? Did she not know that he was waiting for her? She ought to have +known that there was a letter from Paris to-day, for it had been a month +since they had had one. + +There was a sound of footsteps without. He sprang up, crying, "I 've +been waiting so long for you!" A servant opened the door to bring him a +message. Oakley dismissed him angrily. What did he want to go down to +the Continental for to drink and talk politics to a lot of muddle-pated +fools when he had a brother in Paris who was an artist and a letter from +him lay unread in his hand? His patience and his temper were going. +Leslie was careless and unfeeling. She ought to come; he was tired of +waiting. + +A carriage rolled up the driveway and he dropped the letter guiltily, as +if it were not his own. He would only say that he had grown tired of +waiting and started to read it. But it was only Mrs. Davis's footman +leaving a note for Leslie about some charity. + +He went back to the letter. Well, it was his. Leslie had forfeited her +right to see it as soon as he. It might be mean, but it was not +dishonest. No, he would not read it now, but he would take it out and +show her that he had exercised his self-control in spite of her +shortcomings. He laid it on the desk once more. It leered at him. He +might just open the sheets enough to see the lines that began it, and +read no further. Yes, he would do that. Leslie could not feel hurt at +such a little thing. + +The first line had only "Dear Brother." "Dear Brother"! Why not the +second? That could not hold much more. The second line held him, and the +third, and the fourth, and as he read on, unmindful now of what Leslie +might think or feel, his face turned from the ruddy glow of pleasant +anxiety to the pallor of grief and terror. He was not half-way through +it when Mrs. Oakley's voice in the hall announced her coming. He did +not hear her. He sat staring at the page before him, his lips apart and +his eyes staring. Then, with a cry that echoed through the house, +crumpling the sheets in his hand, he fell forward fainting to the floor, +just as his wife rushed into the room. + +"What is it?" she cried. "Maurice! Maurice!" + +He lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling, the letter clutched in +his hands. She ran to him and lifted up his head, but he gave no sign of +life. Already the servants were crowding to the door. She bade one of +them to hasten for a doctor, others to bring water and brandy, and the +rest to be gone. As soon as she was alone, she loosed the crumpled +sheets from his hand, for she felt that this must have been the cause of +her husband's strange attack. Without a thought of wrong, for they had +no secrets from each other, she glanced at the opening lines. Then she +forgot the unconscious man at her feet and read the letter through to +the end. + +The letter was in Frank's neat hand, a little shaken, perhaps, by +nervousness. + + "DEAR BROTHER," it ran, "I know you will grieve at + receiving this, and I wish that I might bear your grief for you, + but I cannot, though I have as heavy a burden as this can bring to + you. Mine would have been lighter to-day, perhaps, had you been + more straightforward with me. I am not blaming you, however, for I + know that my hypocrisy made you believe me possessed of a really + soft heart, and you thought to spare me. Until yesterday, when in a + letter from Esterton he casually mentioned the matter, I did not + know that Berry was in prison, else this letter would have been + written sooner. I have been wanting to write it for so long, and + yet have been too great a coward to do so. + + "I know that you will be disappointed in me, and just what that + disappointment will cost you I know; but you must hear the truth. I + shall never see your face again, or I should not dare to tell it + even now. You will remember that I begged you to be easy on your + servant. You thought it was only my kindness of heart. It was not; + I had a deeper reason. I knew where the money had gone and dared + not tell. Berry is as innocent as yourself--and I--well, it is a + story, and let me tell it to you. + + "You have had so much confidence in me, and I hate to tell you that + it was all misplaced. I have no doubt that I should not be doing it + now but that I have drunken absinthe enough to give me the + emotional point of view, which I shall regret to-morrow. I do not + mean that I am drunk. I can think clearly and write clearly, but my + emotions are extremely active. + + "Do you remember Claire's saying at the table that night of the + farewell dinner that some dark-eyed mademoiselle was waiting for + me? She did not know how truly she spoke, though I fancy she saw + how I flushed when she said it: for I was already in love--madly + so. + + "I need not describe her. I need say nothing about her, for I know + that nothing I say can ever persuade you to forgive her for taking + me from you. This has gone on since I first came here, and I dared + not tell you, for I saw whither your eyes had turned. I loved this + girl, and she both inspired and hindered my work. Perhaps I would + have been successful had I not met her, perhaps not. + + "I love her too well to marry her and make of our devotion a stale, + prosy thing of duty and compulsion. When a man does not marry a + woman, he must keep her better than he would a wife. It costs. All + that you gave me went to make her happy. + + "Then, when I was about leaving you, the catastrophe came. I wanted + much to carry back to her. I gambled to make more. I would surprise + her. Luck was against me. Night after night I lost. Then, just + before the dinner, I woke from my frenzy to find all that I had was + gone. I would have asked you for more, and you would have given it; + but that strange, ridiculous something which we misname Southern + honour, that honour which strains at a gnat and swallows a camel, + withheld me, and I preferred to do worse. So I lied to you. The + money from my cabinet was not stolen save by myself. I am a liar + and a thief, but your eyes shall never tell me so. + + "Tell the truth and have Berry released. I can stand it. Write me + but one letter to tell me of this. Do not plead with me, do not + forgive me, do not seek to find me, for from this time I shall be + as one who has perished from the earth; I shall be no more. + + "Your brother, + FRANK." + +By the time the servants came they found Mrs. Oakley as white as her +lord. But with firm hands and compressed lips she ministered to his +needs pending the doctor's arrival. She bathed his face and temples, +chafed his hands, and forced the brandy between his lips. Finally he +stirred and his hands gripped. + +"The letter!" he gasped. + +"Yes, dear, I have it; I have it." + +"Give it to me," he cried. She handed it to him. He seized it and thrust +it into his breast. + +"Did--did--you read it?" + +"Yes, I did not know----" + +"Oh, my God, I did not intend that you should see it. I wanted the +secret for my own. I wanted to carry it to my grave with me. Oh, Frank, +Frank, Frank!" + +"Never mind, Maurice. It is as if you alone knew it." + +"It is not, I say, it is not!" + +He turned upon his face and began to weep passionately, not like a man, +but like a child whose last toy has been broken. + +"Oh, my God," he moaned, "my brother, my brother!" + +"'Sh, dearie, think--it 's--it 's--Frank." + +"That 's it, that 's it--that 's what I can't forget. It 's +Frank,--Frank, my brother." + +Suddenly he sat up and his eyes stared straight into hers. + +"Leslie, no one must ever know what is in this letter," he said calmly. + +"No one shall, Maurice; come, let us burn it." + +"Burn it? No, no," he cried, clutching at his breast. "It must not be +burned. What! burn my brother's secret? No, no, I must carry it with +me,--carry it with me to the grave." + +"But, Maurice----" + +"I must carry it with me." + +She saw that he was overwrought, and so did not argue with him. + +When the doctor came, he found Maurice Oakley in bed, but better. The +medical man diagnosed the case and decided that he had received some +severe shock. He feared too for his heart, for the patient constantly +held his hands pressed against his bosom. In vain the doctor pleaded; he +would not take them down, and when the wife added her word, the +physician gave up, and after prescribing, left, much puzzled in mind. + +"It 's a strange case," he said; "there 's something more than the +nervous shock that makes him clutch his chest like that, and yet I have +never noticed signs of heart trouble in Oakley. Oh, well, business worry +will produce anything in anybody." + +It was soon common talk about the town about Maurice Oakley's attack. In +the seclusion of his chamber he was saying to his wife: + +"Ah, Leslie, you and I will keep the secret. No one shall ever know." + +"Yes, dear, but--but--what of Berry?" + +"What of Berry?" he cried, starting up excitedly. "What is Berry to +Frank? What is that nigger to my brother? What are his sufferings to the +honour of my family and name?" + +"Never mind, Maurice, never mind, you are right." + +"It must never be known, I say, if Berry has to rot in jail." + +So they wrote a lie to Frank, and buried the secret in their breasts, +and Oakley wore its visible form upon his heart. + + + + +XIV + +FRANKENSTEIN + + +Five years is but a short time in the life of a man, and yet many things +may happen therein. For instance, the whole way of a family's life may +be changed. Good natures may be made into bad ones and out of a soul of +faith grow a spirit of unbelief. The independence of respectability may +harden into the insolence of defiance, and the sensitive cheek of +modesty into the brazen face of shamelessness. It may be true that the +habits of years are hard to change, but this is not true of the first +sixteen or seventeen years of a young person's life, else Kitty Hamilton +and Joe could not so easily have become what they were. It had taken +barely five years to accomplish an entire metamorphosis of their +characters. In Joe's case even a shorter time was needed. He was so +ready to go down that it needed but a gentle push to start him, and once +started, there was nothing within him to hold him back from the depths. +For his will was as flabby as his conscience, and his pride, which +stands to some men for conscience, had no definite aim or direction. + +Hattie Sterling had given him both his greatest impulse for evil and for +good. She had at first given him his gentle push, but when she saw that +his collapse would lose her a faithful and useful slave she had sought +to check his course. Her threat of the severance of their relations had +held him up for a little time, and she began to believe that he was safe +again. He went back to the work he had neglected, drank moderately, and +acted in most things as a sound, sensible being. Then, all of a sudden, +he went down again, and went down badly. She kept her promise and threw +him over. Then he became a hanger-on at the clubs, a genteel loafer. He +used to say in his sober moments that at last he was one of the boys +that Sadness had spoken of. He did not work, and yet he lived and ate +and was proud of his degradation. But he soon tired of being separated +from Hattie, and straightened up again. After some demur she received +him upon his former footing. It was only for a few months. He fell +again. For almost four years this had happened intermittently. Finally +he took a turn for the better that endured so long that Hattie Sterling +again gave him her faith. Then the woman made her mistake. She warmed to +him. She showed him that she was proud of him. He went forth at once to +celebrate his victory. He did not return to her for three days. Then he +was battered, unkempt, and thick of speech. + +She looked at him in silent contempt for a while as he sat nursing his +aching head. + +"Well, you 're a beauty," she said finally with cutting scorn. "You +ought to be put under a glass case and placed on exhibition." + +He groaned and his head sunk lower. A drunken man is always disarmed. + +His helplessness, instead of inspiring her with pity, inflamed her with +an unfeeling anger that burst forth in a volume of taunts. + +"You 're the thing I 've given up all my chances for--you, a miserable, +drunken jay, without a jay's decency. No one had ever looked at you +until I picked you up and you 've been strutting around ever since, +showing off because I was kind to you, and now this is the way you pay +me back. Drunk half the time and half drunk the rest. Well, you know +what I told you the last time you got 'loaded'? I mean it too. You 're +not the only star in sight, see?" + +She laughed meanly and began to sing, "You 'll have to find another baby +now." + +For the first time he looked up, and his eyes were full of tears--tears +both of grief and intoxication. There was an expression of a whipped dog +on his face. + +"Do'--Ha'ie, do'--" he pleaded, stretching out his hands to her. + +Her eyes blazed back at him, but she sang on insolently, tauntingly. + +The very inanity of the man disgusted her, and on a sudden impulse she +sprang up and struck him full in the face with the flat of her hand. He +was too weak to resist the blow, and, tumbling from the chair, fell +limply to the floor, where he lay at her feet, alternately weeping aloud +and quivering with drunken, hiccoughing sobs. + +"Get up!" she cried; "get up and get out o' here. You sha'n't lay around +my house." + +He had already begun to fall into a drunken sleep, but she shook him, +got him to his feet, and pushed him outside the door. "Now, go, you +drunken dog, and never put your foot inside this house again." + +He stood outside, swaying dizzily upon his feet and looking back with +dazed eyes at the door, then he muttered: "Pu' me out, wi' you? Pu' me +out, damn you! Well, I ki' you. See 'f I don't;" and he half walked, +half fell down the street. + +Sadness and Skaggsy were together at the club that night. Five years had +not changed the latter as to wealth or position or inclination, and he +was still a frequent visitor at the Banner. He always came in alone now, +for Maudie had gone the way of all the half-world, and reached depths to +which Mr. Skaggs's job prevented him from following her. However, he +mourned truly for his lost companion, and to-night he was in a +particularly pensive mood. + +Some one was playing rag-time on the piano, and the dancers were +wheeling in time to the music. Skaggsy looked at them regretfully as he +sipped his liquor. It made him think of Maudie. He sighed and turned +away. + +"I tell you, Sadness," he said impulsively, "dancing is the poetry of +motion." + +"Yes," replied Sadness, "and dancing in rag-time is the dialect +poetry." + +The reporter did not like this. It savoured of flippancy, and he was +about entering upon a discussion to prove that Sadness had no soul, when +Joe, with blood-shot eyes and dishevelled clothes, staggered in and +reeled towards them. + +"Drunk again," said Sadness. "Really, it 's a waste of time for Joe to +sober up. Hullo there!" as the young man brought up against him; "take a +seat." He put him in a chair at the table. "Been lushin' a bit, eh?" + +"Gi' me some'n' drink." + +"Oh, a hair of the dog. Some men shave their dogs clean, and then have +hydrophobia. Here, Jack!" + +They drank, and then, as if the whiskey had done him good, Joe sat up in +his chair. + +"Ha'ie 's throwed me down." + +"Lucky dog! You might have known it would have happened sooner or later. +Better sooner than never." + +Skaggs smoked in silence and looked at Joe. + +"I 'm goin' to kill her." + +"I would n't if I were you. Take old Sadness's advice and thank your +stars that you 're rid of her." + +"I 'm goin' to kill her." He paused and looked at them drowsily. Then, +bracing himself up again, he broke out suddenly, "Say, d' ever tell y' +'bout the ol' man? He never stole that money. Know he di' n'." + +He threatened to fall asleep now, but the reporter was all alert. He +scented a story. + +"By Jove!" he exclaimed, "did you hear that? Bet the chap stole it +himself and 's letting the old man suffer for it. Great story, ain't it? +Come, come, wake up here. Three more, Jack. What about your father?" + +"Father? Who's father. Oh, do' bother me. What?" + +"Here, here, tell us about your father and the money. If he did n't +steal it, who did?" + +"Who did? Tha' 's it, who did? Ol' man di' n' steal it, know he di' n'." + +"Oh, let him alone, Skaggsy, he don't know what he 's saying." + +"Yes, he does, a drunken man tells the truth." + +"In some cases," said Sadness. + +"Oh, let me alone, man. I 've been trying for years to get a big +sensation for my paper, and if this story is one, I 'm a made man." + +The drink seemed to revive the young man again, and by bits Skaggs was +able to pick out of him the story of his father's arrest and conviction. +At its close he relapsed into stupidity, murmuring, "She throwed me +down." + +"Well," sneered Sadness, "you see drunken men tell the truth, and you +don't seem to get much guilt out of our young friend. You 're +disappointed, are n't you?" + +"I confess I am disappointed, but I 've got an idea, just the same." + +"Oh, you have? Well, don't handle it carelessly; it might go off." And +Sadness rose. The reporter sat thinking for a time and then followed +him, leaving Joe in a drunken sleep at the table. There he lay for more +than two hours. When he finally awoke, he started up as if some +determination had come to him in his sleep. A part of the helplessness +of his intoxication had gone, but his first act was to call for more +whiskey. This he gulped down, and followed with another and another. For +a while he stood still, brooding silently, his red eyes blinking at the +light. Then he turned abruptly and left the club. + +It was very late when he reached Hattie's door, but he opened it with +his latch-key, as he had been used to do. He stopped to help himself to +a glass of brandy, as he had so often done before. Then he went directly +to her room. She was a light sleeper, and his step awakened her. + +"Who is it?" she cried in affright. + +"It 's me." His voice was steadier now, but grim. + +"What do you want? Did n't I tell you never to come here again? Get out +or I 'll have you taken out." + +She sprang up in bed, glaring angrily at him. + +His hands twitched nervously, as if her will were conquering him and he +were uneasy, but he held her eye with his own. + +"You put me out to-night," he said. + +"Yes, and I 'm going to do it again. You 're drunk." + +She started to rise, but he took a step towards her and she paused. He +looked as she had never seen him look before. His face was ashen and his +eyes like fire and blood. She quailed beneath the look. He took another +step towards her. + +"You put me out to-night," he repeated, "like a dog." + +His step was steady and his tone was clear, menacingly clear. She shrank +back from him, back to the wall. Still his hands twitched and his eye +held her. Still he crept slowly towards her, his lips working and his +hands moving convulsively. + +"Joe, Joe!" she said hoarsely, "what 's the matter? Oh, don't look at me +like that." + +The gown had fallen away from her breast and showed the convulsive +fluttering of her heart. + +He broke into a laugh, a dry, murderous laugh, and his hands sought each +other while the fingers twitched over one another like coiling serpents. + +"You put me out--you--you, and you made me what I am." The realisation +of what he was, of his foulness and degradation, seemed just to have +come to him fully. "You made me what I am, and then you sent me away. +You let me come back, and now you put me out." + +She gazed at him fascinated. She tried to scream and she could not. This +was not Joe. This was not the boy that she had turned and twisted about +her little finger. This was a terrible, terrible man or a monster. + +He moved a step nearer her. His eyes fell to her throat. For an instant +she lost their steady glare and then she found her voice. The scream was +checked as it began. His fingers had closed over her throat just where +the gown had left it temptingly bare. They gave it the caress of death. +She struggled. They held her. Her eyes prayed to his. But his were the +fire of hell. She fell back upon her pillow in silence. He had not +uttered a word. He held her. Finally he flung her from him like a rag, +and sank into a chair. And there the officers found him when Hattie +Sterling's disappearance had become a strange thing. + + + + +XV + +"DEAR, DAMNED, DELIGHTFUL TOWN" + + +When Joe was taken, there was no spirit or feeling left in him. He moved +mechanically, as if without sense or volition. The first impression he +gave was that of a man over-acting insanity. But this was soon removed +by the very indifference with which he met everything concerned with his +crime. From the very first he made no effort to exonerate or to +vindicate himself. He talked little and only in a dry, stupefied way. He +was as one whose soul is dead, and perhaps it was; for all the little +soul of him had been wrapped up in the body of this one woman, and the +stroke that took her life had killed him too. + +The men who examined him were irritated beyond measure. There was +nothing for them to exercise their ingenuity upon. He left them nothing +to search for. Their most damning question he answered with an apathy +that showed absolutely no interest in the matter. It was as if some one +whom he did not care about had committed a crime and he had been called +to testify. The only thing which he noticed or seemed to have any +affection for was a little pet dog which had been hers and which they +sometimes allowed to be with him after the life sentence had been passed +upon him and when he was awaiting removal. He would sit for hours with +the little animal in his lap, caressing it dumbly. There was a mute +sorrow in the eyes of both man and dog, and they seemed to take comfort +in each other's presence. There was no need of any sign between them. +They had both loved her, had they not? So they understood. + +Sadness saw him and came back to the Banner, torn and unnerved by the +sight. "I saw him," he said with a shudder, "and it 'll take more +whiskey than Jack can give me in a year to wash the memory of him out of +me. Why, man, it shocked me all through. It 's a pity they did n't send +him to the chair. It could n't have done him much harm and would have +been a real mercy." + +And so Sadness and all the club, with a muttered "Poor devil!" dismissed +him. He was gone. Why should they worry? Only one more who had got into +the whirlpool, enjoyed the sensation for a moment, and then swept +dizzily down. There were, indeed, some who for an earnest hour +sermonised about it and said, "Here is another example of the pernicious +influence of the city on untrained negroes. Oh, is there no way to keep +these people from rushing away from the small villages and country +districts of the South up to the cities, where they cannot battle with +the terrible force of a strange and unusual environment? Is there no way +to prove to them that woollen-shirted, brown-jeaned simplicity is +infinitely better than broad-clothed degradation?" They wanted to +preach to these people that good agriculture is better than bad +art,--that it was better and nobler for them to sing to God across the +Southern fields than to dance for rowdies in the Northern halls. They +wanted to dare to say that the South has its faults--no one condones +them--and its disadvantages, but that even what they suffered from these +was better than what awaited them in the great alleys of New York. Down +there, the bodies were restrained, and they chafed; but here the soul +would fester, and they would be content. + +This was but for an hour, for even while they exclaimed they knew that +there was no way, and that the stream of young negro life would continue +to flow up from the South, dashing itself against the hard necessities +of the city and breaking like waves against a rock,--that, until the +gods grew tired of their cruel sport, there must still be sacrifices to +false ideals and unreal ambitions. + +There was one heart, though, that neither dismissed Joe with gratuitous +pity nor sermonised about him. The mother heart had only room for grief +and pain. Already it had borne its share. It had known sorrow for a lost +husband, tears at the neglect and brutality of a new companion, shame +for a daughter's sake, and it had seemed already filled to overflowing. +And yet the fates had put in this one other burden until it seemed it +must burst with the weight of it. + +To Fannie Hamilton's mind now all her boy's shortcomings became as +naught. He was not her wayward, erring, criminal son. She only +remembered that he was her son, and wept for him as such. She forgot his +curses, while her memory went back to the sweetness of his baby prattle +and the soft words of his tenderer youth. Until the last she clung to +him, holding him guiltless, and to her thought they took to prison, not +Joe Hamilton, a convicted criminal, but Joey, Joey, her boy, her +firstborn,--a martyr. + +The pretty Miss Kitty Hamilton was less deeply impressed. The arrest +and subsequent conviction of her brother was quite a blow. She felt the +shame of it keenly, and some of the grief. To her, coming as it did just +at a time when the company was being strengthened and she more +importantly featured than ever, it was decidedly inopportune, for no one +could help connecting her name with the affair. + +For a long time she and her brother had scarcely been upon speaking +terms. During Joe's frequent lapses from industry he had been prone to +"touch" his sister for the wherewithal to supply his various wants. +When, finally, she grew tired and refused to be "touched," he rebuked +her for withholding that which, save for his help, she would never have +been able to make. This went on until they were almost entirely +estranged. He was wont to say that "now his sister was up in the world, +she had got the big head," and she to retort that her brother "wanted to +use her for a 'soft thing.'" + +From the time that she went on the stage she had begun to live her own +life, a life in which the chief aim was the possession of good clothes +and the ability to attract the attention which she had learned to crave. +The greatest sign of interest she showed in her brother's affair was, at +first, to offer her mother money to secure a lawyer. But when Joe +confessed all, she consoled herself with the reflection that perhaps it +was for the best, and kept her money in her pocket with a sense of +satisfaction. She was getting to be so very much more Joe's sister. She +did not go to see her brother. She was afraid it might make her nervous +while she was in the city, and she went on the road with her company +before he was taken away. + +Miss Kitty Hamilton had to be very careful about her nerves and her +health. She had had experiences, and her voice was not as good as it +used to be, and her beauty had to be aided by cosmetics. So she went +away from New York, and only read of all that happened when some one +called her attention to it in the papers. + +Berry Hamilton in his Southern prison knew nothing of all this, for no +letters had passed between him and his family for more than two years. +The very cruelty of destiny defeated itself in this and was kind. + + + + +XVI + +SKAGGS'S THEORY + + +There was, perhaps, more depth to Mr. Skaggs than most people gave him +credit for having. However it may be, when he got an idea into his head, +whether it were insane or otherwise, he had a decidedly tenacious way of +holding to it. Sadness had been disposed to laugh at him when he +announced that Joe's drunken story of his father's troubles had given +him an idea. But it was, nevertheless, true, and that idea had stayed +with him clear through the exciting events that followed on that fatal +night. He thought and dreamed of it until he had made a working theory. +Then one day, with a boldness that he seldom assumed when in the sacred +Presence, he walked into the office and laid his plans before the +editor. They talked together for some time, and the editor seemed hard +to convince. + +"It would be a big thing for the paper," he said, "if it only panned +out; but it is such a rattle-brained, harum-scarum thing. No one under +the sun would have thought of it but you, Skaggs." + +"Oh, it 's bound to pan out. I see the thing as clear as day. There 's +no getting around it." + +"Yes, it looks plausible, but so does all fiction. You 're taking a +chance. You 're losing time. If it fails----" + +"But if it succeeds?" + +"Well, go and bring back a story. If you don't, look out. It 's against +my better judgment anyway. Remember I told you that." + +Skaggs shot out of the office, and within an hour and a half had boarded +a fast train for the South. + +It is almost a question whether Skaggs had a theory or whether he had +told himself a pretty story and, as usual, believed it. The editor was +right. No one else would have thought of the wild thing that was in the +reporter's mind. The detective had not thought of it five years before, +nor had Maurice Oakley and his friends had an inkling, and here was one +of the New York _Universe's_ young men going miles to prove his idea +about something that did not at all concern him. + +When Skaggs reached the town which had been the home of the Hamiltons, +he went at once to the Continental Hotel. He had as yet formulated no +plan of immediate action and with a fool's or a genius' belief in his +destiny he sat down to await the turn of events. His first move would be +to get acquainted with some of his neighbours. This was no difficult +matter, as the bar of the Continental was still the gathering-place of +some of the city's choice spirits of the old regime. Thither he went, +and his convivial cheerfulness soon placed him on terms of equality with +many of his kind. + +He insinuated that he was looking around for business prospects. This +proved his open-sesame. Five years had not changed the Continental +frequenters much, and Skaggs's intention immediately brought Beachfield +Davis down upon him with the remark, "If a man wants to go into +business, business for a gentleman, suh, Gad, there 's no finer or +better paying business in the world than breeding blooded dogs--that is, +if you get a man of experience to go in with you." + +"Dogs, dogs," drivelled old Horace Talbot, "Beachfield 's always talking +about dogs. I remember the night we were all discussing that Hamilton +nigger's arrest, Beachfield said it was a sign of total depravity +because his man hunted 'possums with his hound." The old man laughed +inanely. The hotel whiskey was getting on his nerves. + +The reporter opened his eyes and his ears. He had stumbled upon +something, at any rate. + +"What was it about some nigger's arrest, sir?" he asked respectfully. + +"Oh, it was n't anything much. Only an old and trusted servant robbed +his master, and my theory----" + +"But you will remember, Mr. Talbot," broke in Davis, "that I proved your +theory to be wrong and cited a conclusive instance." + +"Yes, a 'possum-hunting dog." + +"I am really anxious to hear about the robbery, though. It seems such an +unusual thing for a negro to steal a great amount." + +"Just so, and that was part of my theory. Now----" + +"It 's an old story and a long one, Mr. Skaggs, and one of merely local +repute," interjected Colonel Saunders. "I don't think it could possibly +interest you, who are familiar with the records of the really great +crimes that take place in a city such as New York." + +"Those things do interest me very much, though. I am something of a +psychologist, and I often find the smallest and most +insignificant-appearing details pregnant with suggestion. Won't you let +me hear the story, Colonel?" + +"Why, yes, though there 's little in it save that I am one of the few +men who have come to believe that the negro, Berry Hamilton, is not the +guilty party." + +"Nonsense! nonsense!" said Talbot; "of course Berry was guilty, but, as +I said before, I don't blame him. The negroes----" + +"Total depravity," said Davis. "Now look at my dog----" + +"If you will retire with me to the further table I will give you +whatever of the facts I can call to mind." + +As unobtrusively as they could, they drew apart from the others and +seated themselves at a more secluded table, leaving Talbot and Davis +wrangling, as of old, over their theories. When the glasses were filled +and the pipes going, the Colonel began his story, interlarding it +frequently with comments of his own. + +"Now, in the first place, Mr. Skaggs," he said when the tale was done, +"I am lawyer enough to see for myself how weak the evidence was upon +which the negro was convicted, and later events have done much to +confirm me in the opinion that he was innocent." + +"Later events?" + +"Yes." The Colonel leaned across the table and his voice fell to a +whisper. "Four years ago a great change took place in Maurice Oakley. It +happened in the space of a day, and no one knows the cause of it. From a +social, companionable man, he became a recluse, shunning visitors and +dreading society. From an open-hearted, unsuspicious neighbour, he +became secretive and distrustful of his own friends. From an active +business man, he has become a retired brooder. He sees no one if he can +help it. He writes no letters and receives none, not even from his +brother, it is said. And all of this came about in the space of +twenty-four hours." + +"But what was the beginning of it?" + +"No one knows, save that one day he had some sort of nervous attack. By +the time the doctor was called he was better, but he kept clutching his +hand over his heart. Naturally, the physician wanted to examine him +there, but the very suggestion of it seemed to throw him into a frenzy; +and his wife too begged the doctor, an old friend of the family, to +desist. Maurice Oakley had been as sound as a dollar, and no one of the +family had had any tendency to heart affection." + +"It is strange." + +"Strange it is, but I have my theory." + +"His actions are like those of a man guarding a secret." + +"Sh! His negro laundress says that there is an inside pocket in his +undershirts." + +"An inside pocket?" + +"Yes." + +"And for what?" Skaggs was trembling with eagerness. + +The Colonel dropped his voice lower. + +"We can only speculate," he said; "but, as I have said, I have my +theory. Oakley was a just man, and in punishing his old servant for the +supposed robbery it is plain that he acted from principle. But he is +also a proud man and would hate to confess that he had been in the +wrong. So I believed that the cause of his first shock was the finding +of the money that he supposed gone. Unwilling to admit this error, he +lets the misapprehension go on, and it is the money which he carries in +his secret pocket, with a morbid fear of its discovery, that has made +him dismiss his servants, leave his business, and refuse to see his +friends." + +"A very natural conclusion, Colonel, and I must say that I believe you. +It is strange that others have not seen as you have seen and brought the +matter to light." + +"Well, you see, Mr. Skaggs, none are so dull as the people who think +they think. I can safely say that there is not another man in this town +who has lighted upon the real solution of this matter, though it has +been openly talked of for so long. But as for bringing it to light, no +one would think of doing that. It would be sure to hurt Oakley's +feelings, and he is of one of our best families." + +"Ah, yes, perfectly right." + +Skaggs had got all that he wanted; much more, in fact, than he had +expected. The Colonel held him for a while yet to enlarge upon the views +that he had expressed. + +When the reporter finally left him, it was with a cheery "Good-night, +Colonel. If I were a criminal, I should be afraid of that analytical +mind of yours!" + +He went upstairs chuckling. "The old fool!" he cried as he flung himself +into a chair. "I 've got it! I 've got it! Maurice Oakley must see me, +and then what?" He sat down to think out what he should do to-morrow. +Again, with his fine disregard of ways and means, he determined to trust +to luck, and as he expressed it, "brace old Oakley." + +Accordingly he went about nine o'clock the next morning to Oakley's +house. A gray-haired, sad-eyed woman inquired his errand. + +"I want to see Mr. Oakley," he said. + +"You cannot see him. Mr. Oakley is not well and does not see visitors." + +"But I must see him, madam; I am here upon business of importance." + +"You can tell me just as well as him. I am his wife and transact all of +his business." + +"I can tell no one but the master of the house himself." + +"You cannot see him. It is against his orders." + +"Very well," replied Skaggs, descending one step; "it is his loss, not +mine. I have tried to do my duty and failed. Simply tell him that I came +from Paris." + +"Paris?" cried a querulous voice behind the woman's back. "Leslie, why +do you keep the gentleman at the door? Let him come in at once." + +Mrs. Oakley stepped from the door and Skaggs went in. Had he seen +Oakley before he would have been shocked at the change in his +appearance; but as it was, the nervous, white-haired man who stood +shiftily before him told him nothing of an eating secret long carried. +The man's face was gray and haggard, and deep lines were cut under his +staring, fish-like eyes. His hair tumbled in white masses over his +pallid forehead, and his lips twitched as he talked. + +"You 're from Paris, sir, from Paris?" he said. "Come in, come in." + +His motions were nervous and erratic. Skaggs followed him into the +library, and the wife disappeared in another direction. + +It would have been hard to recognise in the Oakley of the present the +man of a few years before. The strong frame had gone away to bone, and +nothing of his old power sat on either brow or chin. He was as a man who +trembled on the brink of insanity. His guilty secret had been too much +for him, and Skaggs's own fingers twitched as he saw his host's hands +seek the breast of his jacket every other moment. + +"It is there the secret is hidden," he said to himself, "and whatever it +is, I must have it. But how--how? I can't knock the man down and rob him +in his own house." But Oakley himself proceeded to give him his first +cue. + +"You--you--perhaps have a message from my brother--my brother who is in +Paris. I have not heard from him for some time." + +Skaggs's mind worked quickly. He remembered the Colonel's story. +Evidently the brother had something to do with the secret. "Now or +never," he thought. So he said boldly, "Yes, I have a message from your +brother." + +The man sprung up, clutching again at his breast. "You have? you have? +Give it to me. After four years he sends me a message! Give it to me!" + +The reporter looked steadily at the man. He knew that he was in his +power, that his very eagerness would prove traitor to his discretion. + +"Your brother bade me to say to you that you have a terrible secret, +that you bear it in your breast--there--there. I am his messenger. He +bids you to give it to me." + +Oakley had shrunken back as if he had been struck. + +"No, no!" he gasped, "no, no! I have no secret." + +The reporter moved nearer him. The old man shrunk against the wall, his +lips working convulsively and his hand tearing at his breast as Skaggs +drew nearer. He attempted to shriek, but his voice was husky and broke +off in a gasping whisper. + +"Give it to me, as your brother commands." + +"No, no, no! It is not his secret; it is mine. I must carry it here +always, do you hear? I must carry it till I die. Go away! Go away!" + +Skaggs seized him. Oakley struggled weakly, but he had no strength. The +reporter's hand sought the secret pocket. He felt a paper beneath his +fingers. Oakley gasped hoarsely as he drew it forth. Then raising his +voice gave one agonised cry, and sank to the floor frothing at the +mouth. At the cry rapid footsteps were heard in the hallway, and Mrs. +Oakley threw open the door. + +"What is the matter?" she cried. + +"My message has somewhat upset your husband," was the cool answer. + +"But his breast is open. Your hand has been in his bosom. You have taken +something from him. Give it to me, or I shall call for help." + +Skaggs had not reckoned on this, but his wits came to the rescue. + +"You dare not call for help," he said, "or the world will know!" + +She wrung her hands helplessly, crying, "Oh, give it to me, give it to +me. We 've never done you any harm." + +"But you 've harmed some one else; that is enough." + +He moved towards the door, but she sprang in front of him with the +fierceness of a tigress protecting her young. She attacked him with +teeth and nails. She was pallid with fury, and it was all he could do to +protect himself and yet not injure her. Finally, when her anger had +taken her strength, he succeeded in getting out. He flew down the +hall-way and out of the front door, the woman's screams following him. +He did not pause to read the precious letter until he was safe in his +room at the Continental Hotel. Then he sprang to his feet, crying, +"Thank God! thank God! I was right, and the _Universe_ shall have a +sensation. The brother is the thief, and Berry Hamilton is an innocent +man. Hurrah! Now, who is it that has come on a wild-goose chase? Who is +it that ought to handle his idea carefully? Heigho, Saunders my man, the +drinks 'll be on you, and old Skaggsy will have done some good in the +world." + + + + +XVII + +A YELLOW JOURNAL + + +Mr. Skaggs had no qualms of conscience about the manner in which he had +come by the damaging evidence against Maurice Oakley. It was enough for +him that he had it. A corporation, he argued, had no soul, and therefore +no conscience. How much less, then, should so small a part of a great +corporation as himself be expected to have them? + +He had his story. It was vivid, interesting, dramatic. It meant the +favour of his editor, a big thing for the _Universe_, and a fatter +lining for his own pocket. He sat down to put his discovery on paper +before he attempted anything else, although the impulse to celebrate was +very strong within him. + +He told his story well, with an eye to every one of its salient points. +He sent an alleged picture of Berry Hamilton as he had appeared at the +time of his arrest. He sent a picture of the Oakley home and of the +cottage where the servant and his family had been so happy. There was a +strong pen-picture of the man, Oakley, grown haggard and morose from +carrying his guilty secret, of his confusion when confronted with the +supposed knowledge of it. The old Southern city was described, and the +opinions of its residents in regard to the case given. It was +there--clear, interesting, and strong. One could see it all as if every +phase of it were being enacted before one's eyes. Skaggs surpassed +himself. + +When the editor first got hold of it he said "Huh!" over the opening +lines,--a few short sentences that instantly pricked the attention +awake. He read on with increasing interest. "This is good stuff," he +said at the last page. "Here 's a chance for the _Universe_ to look into +the methods of Southern court proceedings. Here 's a chance for a +spread." + +The _Universe_ had always claimed to be the friend of all poor and +oppressed humanity, and every once in a while it did something to +substantiate its claim, whereupon it stood off and said to the public, +"Look you what we have done, and behold how great we are, the friend of +the people!" The _Universe_ was yellow. It was very so. But it had power +and keenness and energy. It never lost an opportunity to crow, and if +one was not forthcoming, it made one. In this way it managed to do a +considerable amount of good, and its yellowness became forgivable, even +commendable. In Skaggs's story the editor saw an opportunity for one of +its periodical philanthropies. He seized upon it. With headlines that +took half a page, and with cuts authentic and otherwise, the tale was +told, and the people of New York were greeted next morning with the +announcement of-- + + + "A Burning Shame! + + A Poor and Innocent Negro made to Suffer + + for a Rich Man's Crime! + + Great Expose by the 'Universe'! + + A 'Universe' Reporter To the Rescue! + + The Whole Thing to Be Aired that the + + People may Know!" + + +Then Skaggs received a telegram that made him leap for joy. He was to do +it. He was to go to the capital of the State. He was to beard the +Governor in his den, and he, with the force of a great paper behind him, +was to demand for the people the release of an innocent man. Then there +would be another write-up and much glory for him and more shekels. In an +hour after he had received his telegram he was on his way to the +Southern capital. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile in the house of Maurice Oakley there were sad times. From the +moment that the master of the house had fallen to the floor in impotent +fear and madness there had been no peace within his doors. At first his +wife had tried to control him alone, and had humoured the wild babblings +with which he woke from his swoon. But these changed to shrieks and +cries and curses, and she was forced to throw open the doors so long +closed and call in help. The neighbours and her old friends went to her +assistance, and what the reporter's story had not done, the ravings of +the man accomplished; for, with a show of matchless cunning, he +continually clutched at his breast, laughed, and babbled his secret +openly. Even then they would have smothered it in silence, for the +honour of one of their best families; but too many ears had heard, and +then came the yellow journal bearing all the news in emblazoned +headlines. + +Colonel Saunders was distinctly hurt to think that his confidence had +been imposed on, and that he had been instrumental in bringing shame +upon a Southern name. + +"To think, suh," he said generally to the usual assembly of choice +spirits,--"to think of that man's being a reporter, suh, a common, +ordinary reporter, and that I sat and talked to him as if he were a +gentleman!" + +"You 're not to be blamed, Colonel," said old Horace Talbot. "You 've +done no more than any other gentleman would have done. The trouble is +that the average Northerner has no sense of honour, suh, no sense of +honour. If this particular man had had, he would have kept still, and +everything would have gone on smooth and quiet. Instead of that, a +distinguished family is brought to shame, and for what? To give a nigger +a few more years of freedom when, likely as not, he don't want it; and +Berry Hamilton's life in prison has proved nearer the ideal reached by +slavery than anything he has found since emancipation. Why, suhs, I +fancy I see him leaving his prison with tears of regret in his eyes." + +Old Horace was inanely eloquent for an hour over his pet theory. But +there were some in the town who thought differently about the matter, +and it was their opinions and murmurings that backed up Skaggs and made +it easier for him when at the capital he came into contact with the +official red tape. + +He was told that there were certain forms of procedure, and certain +times for certain things, but he hammered persistently away, the +murmurings behind him grew louder, while from his sanctum the editor of +the _Universe_ thundered away against oppression and high-handed +tyranny. Other papers took it up and asked why this man should be +despoiled of his liberty any longer? And when it was replied that the +man had been convicted, and that the wheels of justice could not be +stopped or turned back by the letter of a romantic artist or the ravings +of a madman, there was a mighty outcry against the farce of justice that +had been played out in this man's case. + +The trial was reviewed; the evidence again brought up and examined. The +dignity of the State was threatened. At this time the State did the one +thing necessary to save its tottering reputation. It would not +surrender, but it capitulated, and Berry Hamilton was pardoned. + +Berry heard the news with surprise and a half-bitter joy. He had long +ago lost hope that justice would ever be done to him. He marvelled at +the word that was brought to him now, and he could not understand the +strange cordiality of the young white man who met him at the warden's +office. Five years of prison life had made a different man of him. He no +longer looked to receive kindness from his fellows, and he blinked at it +as he blinked at the unwonted brightness of the sun. The lines about his +mouth where the smiles used to gather had changed and grown stern with +the hopelessness of years. His lips drooped pathetically, and hard +treatment had given his eyes a lowering look. His hair, that had hardly +shown a white streak, was as white as Maurice Oakley's own. His +erstwhile quick wits were dulled and imbruted. He had lived like an ox, +working without inspiration or reward, and he came forth like an ox +from his stall. All the higher part of him he had left behind, dropping +it off day after day through the wearisome years. He had put behind him +the Berry Hamilton that laughed and joked and sang and believed, for +even his faith had become only a numbed fancy. + +"This is a very happy occasion, Mr. Hamilton," said Skaggs, shaking his +hand heartily. + +Berry did not answer. What had this slim, glib young man to do with him? +What had any white man to do with him after what he had suffered at +their hands? + +"You know you are to go New York with me?" + +"To New Yawk? What fu'?" + +Skaggs did not tell him that, now that the _Universe_ had done its work, +it demanded the right to crow to its heart's satisfaction. He said only, +"You want to see your wife, of course?" + +Berry had forgotten Fannie, and for the first time his heart thrilled +within him at the thought of seeing her again. + +"I ain't hyeahed f'om my people fu' a long time. I did n't know what had +become of 'em. How 's Kit an' Joe?" + +"They 're all right," was the reply. Skaggs could n't tell him, in this +the first hour of his freedom. Let him have time to drink the sweetness +of that all in. There would be time afterwards to taste all of the +bitterness. + +Once in New York, he found that people wished to see him, some fools, +some philanthropists, and a great many reporters. He had to be +photographed--all this before he could seek those whom he longed to see. +They printed his picture as he was before he went to prison and as he +was now, a sort of before-and-after-taking comment, and in the morning +that it all appeared, when the _Universe_ spread itself to tell the +public what it had done and how it had done it, they gave him his wife's +address. + +It would be better, they thought, for her to tell him herself all that +happened. No one of them was brave enough to stand to look in his eyes +when he asked for his son and daughter, and they shifted their +responsibility by pretending to themselves that they were doing it for +his own good: that the blow would fall more gently upon him coming from +her who had been his wife. Berry took the address and inquired his way +timidly, hesitatingly, but with a swelling heart, to the door of the +flat where Fannie lived. + + + + +XVIII + +WHAT BERRY FOUND + + +Had not Berry's years of prison life made him forget what little he knew +of reading, he might have read the name Gibson on the door-plate where +they told him to ring for his wife. But he knew nothing of what awaited +him as he confidently pulled the bell. Fannie herself came to the door. +The news the papers held had not escaped her, but she had suffered in +silence, hoping that Berry might be spared the pain of finding her. Now +he stood before her, and she knew him at a glance, in spite of his +haggard countenance. + +"Fannie," he said, holding out his arms to her, and all of the pain and +pathos of long yearning was in his voice, "don't you know me?" + +She shrank away from him, back in the hall-way. + +"Yes, yes, Be'y, I knows you. Come in." + +She led him through the passage-way and into her room, he following with +a sudden sinking at his heart. This was not the reception he had +expected from Fannie. + +When they were within the room he turned and held out his arms to her +again, but she did not notice them. "Why, is you 'shamed o' me?" he +asked brokenly. + +"'Shamed? No! Oh, Be'y," and she sank into a chair and began rocking to +and fro in her helpless grief. + +"What 's de mattah, Fannie? Ain't you glad to see me?" + +"Yes, yes, but you don't know nothin', do you? Dey lef' me to tell you?" + +"Lef' you to tell me? What 's de mattah? Is Joe or Kit daid? Tell me." + +"No, not daid. Kit dances on de stage fu' a livin', an', Be'y, she ain't +de gal she ust to be. Joe--Joe--Joe--he 's in pen'tentiary fu' killin' a +ooman." + +Berry started forward with a cry, "My Gawd! my Gawd! my little gal! my +boy!" + +"Dat ain't all," she went on dully, as if reciting a rote lesson; "I +ain't yo' wife no mo'. I 's ma'ied ag'in. Oh Be'y, Be'y, don't look at +me lak dat. I could n't he'p it. Kit an' Joe lef' me, an' dey said de +pen'tentiary divo'ced you an' me, an' dat you 'd nevah come out nohow. +Don't look at me lak dat, Be'y." + +"You ain't my wife no mo'? Hit 's a lie, a damn lie! You is my wife. I +'s a innocent man. No pen'tentiay kin tek you erway f'om me. Hit 's +enough what dey 've done to my chillen." He rushed forward and seized +her by the arm. "Dey sha'n't do no mo', by Gawd! dey sha'n't, I say!" +His voice had risen to a fierce roar, like that of a hurt beast, and he +shook her by the arm as he spoke. + +"Oh, don't, Be'y, don't, you hu't me. I could n't he'p it." + +He glared at her for a moment, and then the real force of the situation +came full upon him, and he bowed his head in his hands and wept like a +child. The great sobs came up and stuck in his throat. + +She crept up to him fearfully and laid her hand on his head. + +"Don't cry, Be'y," she said; "I done wrong, but I loves you yit." + +He seized her in his arms and held her tightly until he could control +himself. Then he asked weakly, "Well, what am I goin' to do?" + +"I do' know, Be'y, 'ceptin' dat you 'll have to leave me." + +"I won't! I 'll never leave you again," he replied doggedly. + +"But, Be'y, you mus'. You 'll only mek it ha'der on me, an' Gibson 'll +beat me ag'in." + +"Ag'in!" + +She hung her head: "Yes." + +He gripped himself hard. + +"Why cain't you come on off wid me, Fannie? You was mine fus'." + +"I could n't. He would fin' me anywhaih I went to." + +"Let him fin' you. You 'll be wid me, an' we 'll settle it, him an' +me." + +"I want to, but oh, I can't, I can't," she wailed. "Please go now, Be'y, +befo' he gits home. He 's mad anyhow, 'cause you 're out." + +Berry looked at her hard, and then said in a dry voice, "An' so I got to +go an' leave you to him?" + +"Yes, you mus'; I 'm his'n now." + +He turned to the door, murmuring, "My wife gone, Kit a nobody, an' Joe, +little Joe, a murderer, an' then I--I--ust to pray to Gawd an' call him +'Ouah Fathah.'" He laughed hoarsely. It sounded like nothing Fannie had +ever heard before. + +"Don't, Be'y, don't say dat. Maybe we don't un'erstan'." + +Her faith still hung by a slender thread, but his had given way in that +moment. + +"No, we don't un'erstan'," he laughed as he went out of the door. "We +don't un'erstan'." + +He staggered down the steps, blinded by his emotions, and set his face +towards the little lodging that he had taken temporarily. There seemed +nothing left in life for him to do. Yet he knew that he must work to +live, although the effort seemed hardly worth while. He remembered now +that the _Universe_ had offered him the under janitorship in its +building. He would go and take it, and some day, perhaps--He was not +quite sure what the "perhaps" meant. But as his mind grew clearer he +came to know, for a sullen, fierce anger was smouldering in his heart +against the man who through lies had stolen his wife from him. It was +anger that came slowly, but gained in fierceness as it grew. + +Yes, that was it, he would kill Gibson. It was no worse than his present +state. Then it would be father and son murderers. They would hang him or +send him back to prison. Neither would be hard now. He laughed to +himself. + +And this was what they had let him out of prison for? To find out all +this. Why had they not left him there to die in ignorance? What had he +to do with all these people who gave him sympathy? What did he want of +their sympathy? Could they give him back one tithe of what he had lost? +Could they restore to him his wife or his son or his daughter, his quiet +happiness or his simple faith? + +He went to work for the _Universe_, but night after night, armed, he +patrolled the sidewalk in front of Fannie's house. He did not know +Gibson, but he wanted to see them together. Then he would strike. His +vigils kept him from his bed, but he went to the next morning's work +with no weariness. The hope of revenge sustained him, and he took a +savage joy in the thought that he should be the dispenser of justice to +at least one of those who had wounded him. + +Finally he grew impatient and determined to wait no longer, but to seek +his enemy in his own house. He approached the place cautiously and went +up the steps. His hand touched the bell-pull. He staggered back. + +"Oh, my Gawd!" he said. + +There was crape on Fannie's bell. His head went round and he held to the +door for support. Then he turned the knob and the door opened. He went +noiselessly in. At the door of Fannie's room he halted, sick with fear. +He knocked, a step sounded within, and his wife's face looked out upon +him. He could have screamed aloud with relief. + +"It ain't you!" he whispered huskily. + +"No, it 's him. He was killed in a fight at the race-track. Some o' his +frinds are settin' up. Come in." + +He went in, a wild, strange feeling surging at his heart. She showed him +into the death-chamber. + +As he stood and looked down upon the face of his enemy, still, cold, and +terrible in death, the recognition of how near he had come to crime +swept over him, and all his dead faith sprang into new life in a +glorious resurrection. He stood with clasped hands, and no word passed +his lips. But his heart was crying, "Thank God! thank God! this man's +blood is not on my hands." + +The gamblers who were sitting up with the dead wondered who the old fool +was who looked at their silent comrade and then raised his eyes as if in +prayer. + + * * * * * + +When Gibson was laid away, there were no formalities between Berry and +his wife; they simply went back to each other. New York held nothing for +them now but sad memories. Kit was on the road, and the father could not +bear to see his son; so they turned their faces southward, back to the +only place they could call home. Surely the people could not be cruel to +them now, and even if they were, they felt that after what they had +endured no wound had power to give them pain. + +Leslie Oakley heard of their coming, and with her own hands re-opened +and refurnished the little cottage in the yard for them. There the +white-haired woman begged them to spend the rest of their days and be in +peace and comfort. It was the only amend she could make. As much to +satisfy her as to settle themselves, they took the cottage, and many a +night thereafter they sat together with clasped hands listening to the +shrieks of the madman across the yard and thinking of what he had +brought to them and to himself. + +It was not a happy life, but it was all that was left to them, and they +took it up without complaint, for they knew they were powerless against +some Will infinitely stronger than their own. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Sport of the Gods, by Paul Laurence Dunbar + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPORT OF THE GODS *** + +***** This file should be named 17854.txt or 17854.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/8/5/17854/ + +Produced by Robert Ledger, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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