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+*Project Gutenberg Etext The Amateur, by Richard Harding Davis*
+#26 in our series by Richard Harding Davis
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+The Amateur
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+by Richard Harding Davis
+
+July, 1999  [Etext #1822]
+
+
+*Project Gutenberg Etext The Amateur, by Richard Harding Davis*
+*****This file should be named thmtr10.txt or thmtr10.zip******
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+
+
+
+
+Prepared by Don Lainson
+
+THE AMATEUR
+
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+It was February off the Banks, and so thick was the weather that,
+on the upper decks, one could have driven a sleigh.  Inside the
+smoking-room Austin Ford, as securely sheltered from the blizzard
+as though he had been sitting in front of a wood fire at his club,
+ordered hot gin for himself and the ship's doctor.  The ship's
+doctor had gone below on another "hurry call" from the widow.  At
+the first luncheon on board the widow had sat on the right of
+Doctor Sparrow, with Austin Ford facing her.  But since then,
+except to the doctor, she had been invisible.  So, at frequent
+intervals, the ill health of the widow had deprived Ford of the
+society of the doctor.  That it deprived him, also, of the society
+of the widow did not concern him.  HER life had not been spent upon
+ocean liners; she could not remember when state-rooms were named
+after the States of the Union.  She could not tell him of
+shipwrecks and salvage, of smugglers and of the modern pirates who
+found their victims in the smoking-room.
+
+Ford was on his way to England to act as the London correspondent
+of the New York Republic.  For three years on that most sensational
+of the New York dailies he had been the star man, the chief
+muckraker, the chief sleuth.  His interest was in crime.  Not in
+crimes committed in passion or inspired by drink, but in such
+offences against law and society as are perpetrated with nice
+intelligence.  The murderer, the burglar, the strong-arm men who,
+in side streets, waylay respectable citizens did not appeal to him.
+The man he studied, pursued, and exposed was the cashier who
+evolved a new method of covering up his peculations, the dishonest
+president of an insurance company, the confidence man who used no
+concealed weapon other than his wit.  Toward the criminals he
+pursued young Ford felt no personal animosity.  He harassed them as
+he would have shot a hawk killing chickens.  Not because he
+disliked the hawk, but because the battle was unequal, and because
+he felt sorry for the chickens.
+
+Had you called Austin Ford an amateur detective he would have been
+greatly annoyed.  He argued that his position was similar to that
+of the dramatic critic.  The dramatic critic warned the public
+against bad plays; Ford warned it against bad men.  Having done
+that, he left it to the public to determine whether the bad man
+should thrive or perish.
+
+When the managing editor told him of his appointment to London,
+Ford had protested that his work lay in New York; that of London
+and the English, except as a tourist and sight-seer, he knew
+nothing.
+
+"That's just why we are sending you," explained the managing
+editor.  "Our readers are ignorant.  To make them read about London
+you've got to tell them about themselves in London.  They like to
+know who's been presented at court, about the American girls who
+have married dukes; and which ones opened a bazaar, and which one
+opened a hat shop, and which is getting a divorce.  Don't send us
+anything concerning suffragettes and Dreadnaughts.  Just send us
+stuff about Americans.  If you take your meals in the Carlton
+grill-room and drink at the Cecil you can pick up more good stories
+than we can print.  You will find lots of your friends over there.
+Some of those girls who married dukes," he suggested, "know you,
+don't they?"
+
+"Not since they married dukes," said Ford.
+
+"Well, anyway, all your other friends will be there," continued the
+managing editor encouragingly.  "Now that they have shut up the
+tracks here all the con men have gone to London.  They say an
+American can't take a drink at the Salisbury without his fellow-
+countrymen having a fight as to which one will sell him a gold
+brick."
+
+Ford's eyes lightened in pleasurable anticipation.
+
+"Look them over," urged the managing editor, "and send us a
+special.  Call it 'The American Invasion.'  Don't you see a story
+in it?"
+
+"It will be the first one I send you," said Ford.  The ship's
+doctor returned from his visit below decks and sank into the
+leather cushion close to Ford's elbow.  For a few moments the older
+man sipped doubtfully at his gin and water, and, as though
+perplexed, rubbed his hand over his bald and shining head.  "I told
+her to talk to you," he said fretfully.
+
+"Her?  Who?" inquired Ford.  "Oh, the widow?"
+
+"You were right about that," said Doctor Sparrow; "she is not a
+widow."
+
+The reporter smiled complacently.
+
+"Do you know why I thought not?" he demanded.  "Because all the
+time she was at luncheon she kept turning over her wedding-ring as
+though she was not used to it.  It was a new ring, too.  I told you
+then she was not a widow."
+
+"Do you always notice things like that?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Not on purpose," said the amateur detective; "I can't help it.  I
+see ten things where other people see only one; just as some men
+run ten times as fast as other men.  We have tried it out often at
+the office; put all sorts of junk under a newspaper, lifted the
+newspaper for five seconds, and then each man wrote down what he
+had seen.  Out of twenty things I would remember seventeen.  The
+next best guess would be about nine.  Once I saw a man lift his
+coat collar to hide his face.  It was in the Grand Central Station.
+I stopped him, and told him he was wanted.  Turned out he WAS
+wanted.  It was Goldberg, making his getaway to Canada."
+
+"It is a gift," said the doctor.
+
+"No, it's a nuisance," laughed the reporter.  "I see so many things
+I don't want to see.  I see that people are wearing clothes that
+are not made for them.  I see when women are lying to me.  I can
+see when men are on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and whether
+it is drink or debt or morphine--"
+
+The doctor snorted triumphantly.
+
+"You did not see that the widow was on the verge of a breakdown!"
+
+"No," returned the reporter.  "Is she?  I'm sorry."
+
+"If you're sorry," urged the doctor eagerly, you'll help her.  She
+is going to London alone to find her husband.  He has disappeared.
+She thinks that he has been murdered, or that he is lying ill in
+some hospital.  I told her if any one could help her to find him
+you could.  I had to say something.  She's very ill."
+
+"To find her husband in London?" repeated Ford.  "London is a large
+town."
+
+"She has photographs of him and she knows where he spends his
+time," pleaded the doctor.  "He is a company promoter.  It should
+be easy for you."
+
+"Maybe he doesn't want her to find him," said Ford.  "Then it
+wouldn't be so easy for me."
+
+The old doctor sighed heavily.  "I know," he murmured.  "I thought
+of that, too.  And she is so very pretty."
+
+"That was another thing I noticed," said Ford.
+
+The doctor gave no heed.
+
+"She must stop worrying," he exclaimed, "or she will have a mental
+collapse.  I have tried sedatives, but they don't touch her.  I
+want to give her courage.  She is frightened.  She's left a baby
+boy at home, and she's fearful that something will happen to him,
+and she's frightened at being at sea, frightened at being alone in
+London; it's pitiful."  The old man shook his head.  "Pitiful!
+Will you talk to her now?" he asked.
+
+"Nonsense!" exclaimed Ford.  "She doesn't want to tell the story of
+her life to strange young men."
+
+"But it was she suggested it," cried the doctor.  "She asked me if
+you were Austin Ford, the great detective."
+
+Ford snorted scornfully.  "She did not!" he protested.  His tone
+was that of a man who hopes to be contradicted.
+
+"But she did," insisted the doctor, "and I told her your specialty
+was tracing persons.  Her face lightened at once; it gave her hope.
+She will listen to you.  Speak very gently and kindly and
+confidently.  Say you are sure you can find him."
+
+"Where is the lady now?" asked Ford.
+
+Doctor Sparrow scrambled eagerly to his feet.  "She cannot leave
+her cabin," he answered.
+
+The widow, as Ford and Doctor Sparrow still thought of her, was
+lying on the sofa that ran the length of the state-room, parallel
+with the lower berth.  She was fully dressed, except that instead
+of her bodice she wore a kimono that left her throat and arms bare.
+She had been sleeping, and when their entrance awoke her, her blue
+eyes regarded them uncomprehendingly.  Ford, hidden from her by the
+doctor, observed that not only was she very pretty, but that she
+was absurdly young, and that the drowsy smile she turned upon the
+old man before she noted the presence of Ford was as innocent as
+that of a baby.  Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes brilliant, her
+yellow curls had become loosened and were spread upon the pillow.
+When she saw Ford she caught the kimono so closely around her
+throat that she choked.  Had the doctor not pushed her down she
+would have stood.
+
+"I thought," she stammered, "he was an OLD man."
+
+The doctor, misunderstanding, hastened to reassure her.  "Mr. Ford
+is old in experience," he said soothingly.  "He has had remarkable
+success.  Why, he found a criminal once just because the man wore a
+collar.  And he found Walsh, the burglar, and Phillips, the forger,
+and a gang of counterfeiters--"
+
+Mrs. Ashton turned upon him, her eyes wide with wonder.  "But MY
+husband," she protested, "is not a criminal!"
+
+"My dear lady!" the doctor cried.  "I did not mean that, of course
+not.  I meant, if Mr. Ford can find men who don't wish to be found,
+how easy for him to find a man who--"  He turned helplessly to
+Ford.  "You tell her," he begged.
+
+Ford sat down on a steamer trunk that protruded from beneath the
+berth, and, turning to the widow, gave her the full benefit of his
+working smile.  It was confiding, helpless, appealing.  It showed a
+trustfulness in the person to whom it was addressed that caused
+that individual to believe Ford needed protection from a wicked
+world.
+
+"Doctor Sparrow tells me," began Ford timidly, "you have lost your
+husband's address; that you will let me try to find him.  If I can
+help in any way I should be glad."
+
+The young girl regarded him, apparently, with disappointment.  It
+was as though Doctor Sparrow had led her to expect a man full of
+years and authority, a man upon whom she could lean; not a youth
+whose smile seemed to beg one not to scold him.  She gave Ford
+three photographs, bound together with a string.
+
+"When Doctor Sparrow told me you could help me I got out these,"
+she said.
+
+Ford jotted down a mental note to the effect that she "got them
+out."  That is, she did not keep them where she could always look
+at them.  That she was not used to look at them was evident by the
+fact that they were bound together.
+
+The first photograph showed three men standing in an open place and
+leaning on a railing.  One of them was smiling toward the
+photographer.  He was a good-looking young man of about thirty
+years of age, well fed, well dressed, and apparently well satisfied
+with the world and himself.  Ford's own smile had disappeared.  His
+eyes were alert and interested.
+
+"The one with the Panama hat pulled down over his eyes is your
+husband?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," assented the widow.  Her tone showed slight surprise.
+
+"This was taken about a year ago?" inquired Ford.  "Must have
+been," he answered himself; "they haven't raced at the Bay since
+then.  This was taken in front of the club stand--probably for the
+Telegraph?"  He lifted his eyes inquiringly.
+
+Rising on her elbow the young wife bent forward toward the
+photograph.  "Does it say that there," she asked doubtfully.  "How
+did you guess that?"
+
+In his role as chorus the ship's doctor exclaimed with enthusiasm:
+"Didn't I tell you?  He's wonderful."
+
+Ford cut him off impatiently.  "You never saw a rail as high as
+that except around a racetrack," he muttered.  "And the badge in
+his buttonhole and the angle of the stand all show--"
+
+He interrupted himself to address the widow.  "This is an owner's
+badge.  What was the name of his stable?"
+
+"I don't know," she answered.  She regarded the young man with
+sudden uneasiness.  "They only owned one horse, but I believe that
+gave them the privilege of--"
+
+"I see," exclaimed Ford.  "Your husband is a bookmaker.  But in
+London he is a promoter of companies."
+
+"So my friend tells me," said Mrs. Ashton.  "She's just got back
+from London.  Her husband told her that Harry, my husband, was
+always at the American bar in the Cecil or at the Salisbury or the
+Savoy."  The girl shook her head.  "But a woman can't go looking
+for a man there," she protested.  "That's, why I thought you--"
+
+"That'll be all right," Ford assured her hurriedly.  "It's a
+coincidence, but it happens that my own work takes me to these
+hotels, and if your husband is there I will find him."  He returned
+the photographs.
+
+"Hadn't you better keep one?" she asked.
+
+"I won't forget him," said the reporter.  "Besides"--he turned his
+eyes toward the doctor and, as though thinking aloud, said--"he may
+have grown a beard."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+The eyes of the woman grew troubled.  Her lips pressed together as
+though in a sudden access of pain.
+
+"And he may," Ford continued, "have changed his name."
+
+As though fearful, if she spoke, the tears would fall, the girl
+nodded her head stiffly.
+
+Having learned what he wanted to know Ford applied to the wound a
+soothing ointment of promises and encouragement.
+
+"He's as good as found," he protested.  "You will see him in a day,
+two days after you land."
+
+The girl's eyes opened happily.  She clasped her hands together and
+raised them.
+
+"You will try?" she begged.  "You will find him for me"--she
+corrected herself eagerly--"for me and the baby?"
+
+The loose sleeves of the kimono fell back to her shoulders showing
+the white arms; the eyes raised to Ford were glistening with tears.
+
+"Of course I will find him," growled the reporter.
+
+He freed himself from the appeal in the eyes of the young mother
+and left the cabin.  The doctor followed.  He was bubbling over
+with enthusiasm.
+
+"That was fine!" he cried.  "You said just the right thing.  There
+will be no collapse now."
+
+His satisfaction was swept away in a burst of disgust.
+
+"The blackguard!" he protested.  "To desert a wife as young as that
+and as pretty as that."
+
+"So I have been thinking," said the reporter.  "I guess, he added
+gravely, "what is going to happen is that before I find her husband
+I will have got to know him pretty well."
+
+Apparently, young Mrs. Ashton believed everything would come to
+pass just as Ford promised it would and as he chose to order it;
+for the next day, with a color not born of fever in her cheeks and
+courage in her eyes, she joined Ford and the doctor at the
+luncheon-table.  Her attention was concentrated on the younger man.
+In him she saw the one person who could bring her husband to her.
+
+"She acts," growled the doctor later in the smoking-room, "as
+though she was afraid you were going to back out of your promise
+and jump overboard."
+
+"Don't think," he protested violently, "it's you she's interested
+in.  All she sees in you is what you can do for her.  Can you see
+that?"
+
+"Any one as clever at seeing things as I am," returned the
+reporter, "cannot help but see that."
+
+Later, as Ford was walking on the upper deck, Mrs. Ashton came
+toward him, beating her way against the wind.  Without a trace of
+coquetry or self-consciousness, and with a sigh of content, she
+laid her hand on his arm.
+
+"When I don't see you," she exclaimed as simply as a child, "I feel
+so frightened.  When I see you I know all will come right.  Do you
+mind if I walk with you?" she asked.  "And do you mind if every now
+and then I ask you to tell me again it will all come right?"
+
+For the three days following Mrs. Ashton and Ford were constantly
+together.  Or, at least, Mrs. Ashton was constantly with Ford.  She
+told him that when she sat in her cabin the old fears returned to
+her, and in these moments of panic she searched the ship for him.
+
+The doctor protested that he was growing jealous.
+
+"I'm not so greatly to be envied," suggested Ford.  "'Harry' at
+meals three times a day and on deck all the rest of the day becomes
+monotonous.  On a closer acquaintance with Harry he seems to be a
+decent sort of a young man; at least he seems to have been at one
+time very much in love with her."
+
+"Well," sighed the doctor sentimentally, "she is certainly very
+much in love with Harry."
+
+Ford shook his head non-committingly.  "I don't know her story," he
+said.  "Don't want to know it."
+
+The ship was in the channel, on her way to Cherbourg, and running
+as smoothly as a clock.  From the shore friendly lights told them
+they were nearing their journey's end; that the land was on every
+side.  Seated on a steamer-chair next to his in the semi-darkness
+of the deck, Mrs. Ashton began to talk nervously and eagerly.
+
+"Now that we are so near," she murmured, "I have got to tell you
+something.  If you did not know I would feel I had not been fair.
+You might think that when you were doing so much for me I should
+have been more honest."
+
+She drew a long breath.  "It's so hard," she said.
+
+"Wait," commanded Ford.  "Is it going to help me to find him?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then don't tell me."
+
+His tone caused the girl to start.  She leaned toward him and
+peered into his face.  His eyes, as he looked back to her, were
+kind and comprehending.
+
+"You mean," said the amateur detective, "that your husband has
+deserted you.  That if it were not for the baby you would not try
+to find him.  Is that it?"
+
+Mrs. Ashton breathed quickly and turned her face away.
+
+"Yes," she whispered.  "That is it."
+
+There was a long pause.  When she faced him again the fact that
+there was no longer a secret between them seemed to give her
+courage.
+
+"Maybe," she said, "you can understand.  Maybe you can tell me what
+it means.  I have thought and thought.  I have gone over it and
+over it until when I go back to it my head aches.  I have done
+nothing else but think, and I can't make it seem better.  I can't
+find any excuse.  I have had no one to talk to, no one I could
+tell.  I have thought maybe a man could understand."  She raised
+her eyes appealingly.
+
+"If you can only make it seem less cruel.  Don't you see," she
+cried miserably, "I want to believe; I want to forgive him.  I want
+to think he loves me.  Oh! I want so to be able to love him; but
+how can I?  I can't!   I can't!"
+
+In the week in which they had been thrown together the girl
+unconsciously had told Ford much about herself and her husband.
+What she now told him was but an amplification of what he had
+guessed.
+
+She had met Ashton a year and a half before, when she had just left
+school at the convent and had returned to live with her family.
+Her home was at Far Rockaway.  Her father was a cashier in a bank
+at Long Island City.  One night, with a party of friends, she had
+been taken to a dance at one of the beach hotels, and there met
+Ashton.  At that time he was one of a firm that was making book at
+the Aqueduct race-track.  The girl had met very few men and with
+them was shy and frightened, but with Ashton she found herself at
+once at ease.  That night he drove her and her friends home in his
+touring-car and the next day they teased her about her conquest.
+It made her very happy.  After that she went to hops at the hotel,
+and as the bookmaker did not dance, the two young people sat upon
+the piazza.  Then Ashton came to see her at her own house, but when
+her father learned that the young man who had been calling upon her
+was a bookmaker he told him he could not associate with his
+daughter.
+
+But the girl was now deeply in love with Ashton, and apparently he
+with her.  He begged her to marry him.  They knew that to this,
+partly from prejudice and partly owing to his position in the bank,
+her father would object.  Accordingly they agreed that in August,
+when the racing moved to Saratoga, they would run away and get
+married at that place.  Their plan was that Ashton would leave for
+Saratoga with the other racing men, and that she would join him the
+next day.
+
+They had arranged to be married by a magistrate, and Ashton had
+shown her a letter from one at Saratoga who consented to perform
+the ceremony.  He had given her an engagement ring and two thousand
+dollars, which he asked her to keep for him, lest tempted at the
+track he should lose it.
+
+But she assured Ford it was not such material things as a letter, a
+ring, or gift of money that had led her to trust Ashton.  His fear
+of losing her, his complete subjection to her wishes, his happiness
+in her presence, all seemed to prove that to make her happy was his
+one wish, and that he could do anything to make her unhappy
+appeared impossible.
+
+They were married the morning she arrived at Saratoga; and the same
+day departed for Niagara Falls and Quebec.  The honeymoon lasted
+ten days.  They were ten days of complete happiness.  No one, so
+the girl declared, could have been more kind, more unselfishly
+considerate than her husband.  They returned to Saratoga and
+engaged a suite of rooms at one of the big hotels.  Ashton was not
+satisfied with the rooms shown him, and leaving her upstairs
+returned to the office floor to ask for others.
+
+Since that moment his wife had never seen him nor heard from him.
+
+On the day of her marriage young Mrs. Ashton had written to her
+father, asking him to give her his good wishes and pardon.  He
+refused both.  As she had feared, he did not consider that for a
+bank clerk a gambler made a desirable son-in-law; and the letters
+he wrote his daughter were so bitter that in reply she informed him
+he had forced her to choose between her family and her husband, and
+that she chose her husband.  In consequence, when she found herself
+deserted she felt she could not return to her people.  She remained
+in Saratoga.  There she moved into cheap lodgings, and in order
+that the two thousand dollars Ashton had left with her might be
+saved for his child, she had learned to type-write, and after four
+months had been able to support herself.  Within the last month a
+girl friend, who had known both Ashton and herself before they were
+married, had written her that her husband was living in London.
+For the sake of her son she had at once determined to make an
+effort to seek him out.
+
+"The son, nonsense!" exclaimed the doctor, when Ford retold the
+story.  "She is not crossing the ocean because she is worried about
+the future of her son.  She seeks her own happiness.  The woman is
+in love with her husband."
+
+Ford shook his head.
+
+"I don't know!" he objected.  "She's so extravagant in her praise
+of Harry that it seems unreal.  It sounds insincere.  Then, again,
+when I swear I will find him she shows a delight that you might
+describe as savage, almost vindictive.  As though, if I did find
+Harry, the first thing she would do would be to stick a knife in
+him."
+
+"Maybe," volunteered the doctor sadly, "she has heard there is a
+woman in the case.  Maybe she is the one she's thinking of sticking
+the knife into?"
+
+"Well," declared the reporter, "if she doesn't stop looking savage
+every time I promise to find Harry I won't find Harry.  Why should
+I act the part of Fate, anyway?  How do I know that Harry hasn't
+got a wife in London and several in the States?  How do we know he
+didn't leave his country for his country's good?  That's what it
+looks like to me.  How can we tell what confronted him the day he
+went down to the hotel desk to change his rooms and, instead, got
+into his touring-car and beat the speed limit to Canada.  Whom did
+he meet in the hotel corridor?  A woman with a perfectly good
+marriage certificate, or a detective with a perfectly good warrant?
+Or did Harry find out that his bride had a devil of a temper of her
+own, and that for him marriage was a failure?  The widow is
+certainly a very charming young woman, but there may be two sides
+to this."
+
+"You are a cynic, sir," protested the doctor.
+
+"That may be," growled the reporter, "but I am not a private
+detective agency, or a matrimonial bureau, and before I hear myself
+saying, 'Bless you, my children!' both of these young people will
+have to show me why they should not be kept asunder."
+
+
+II
+
+
+On the afternoon of their arrival in London Ford convoyed Mrs.
+Ashton to an old-established private hotel in Craven Street.
+
+"Here," he explained, "you will be within a few hundred yards of
+the place in which your husband is said to spend his time.  I will
+be living in the same hotel.  If I find him you will know it in ten
+minutes."
+
+The widow gave a little gasp, whether of excitement or of happiness
+Ford could not determine.
+
+"Whatever happens," she begged.  "will you let me hear from you
+sometimes?  You are the only person I know in London--and--it's so
+big it frightens me.  I don't want to be a burden," she went on
+eagerly, "but if I can feel you are within call--"
+
+"What you need," said Ford heartily, "is less of the doctor's nerve
+tonic and sleeping draughts, and a little innocent diversion.  To-
+night I am going to take you to the Savoy to supper."
+
+Mrs. Ashton exclaimed delightedly, and then was filled with
+misgivings.
+
+"I have nothing to wear," she protested, "and over here, in the
+evening, the women dress so well.  I have a dinner gown," she
+exclaimed, "but it's black.  Would that do?"
+
+Ford assured her nothing could be better.  He had a man's vanity in
+liking a woman with whom he was seen in public to be pretty and
+smartly dressed, and he felt sure that in black the blond beauty of
+Mrs. Ashton would appear to advantage.  They arranged to meet at
+eleven on the promenade leading to the Savoy supper-room, and
+parted with mutual satisfaction at the prospect.
+
+
+The finding of Harry Ashton was so simple that in its very
+simplicity it appeared spectacular.
+
+On leaving Mrs. Ashton, Ford engaged rooms at the Hotel Cecil.
+Before visiting his rooms he made his way to the American bar.  He
+did not go there seeking Harry Ashton.  His object was entirely
+self-centred.  His purpose was to drink to himself and to the
+lights of London.  But as though by appointment, the man he had
+promised to find was waiting for him.  As Ford entered the room, at
+a table facing the door sat Ashton.  There was no mistaking him.
+He wore a mustache, but it was no disguise.  He was the same good-
+natured, good-looking youth who, in the photograph from under a
+Panama hat, had smiled upon the world.  With a glad cry Ford rushed
+toward him.
+
+"Fancy meeting YOU!" he exclaimed.
+
+Mr. Ashton's good-natured smile did not relax.  He merely shook his
+head.
+
+"Afraid you have made a mistake," he said.  The reporter regarded
+him blankly.  His face showed his disappointment.
+
+"Aren't you Charles W. Garrett, of New York?" he demanded.
+
+"Not me," said Mr. Ashton.
+
+"But," Ford insisted in hurt tones, as though he were being trifled
+with, "you have been told you look like him, haven't you?"
+
+Mr. Ashton's good nature was unassailable.
+
+"Sorry," he declared, "never heard of him."
+
+Ford became garrulous, he could not believe two men could look so
+much alike.  It was a remarkable coincidence.  The stranger must
+certainly have a drink, the drink intended for his twin.  Ashton
+was bored, but accepted.  He was well acquainted with the easy
+good-fellowship of his countrymen.  The room in which he sat was a
+meeting-place for them.  He considered that they were always giving
+each other drinks, and not only were they always introducing
+themselves, but saying, "Shake hands with my friend, Mr. So-and-
+So."  After five minutes they showed each other photographs of the
+children.  This one, though as loquacious as the others, seemed
+better dressed, more "wise"; he brought to the exile the atmosphere
+of his beloved Broadway, so Ashton drank to him pleasantly.
+
+"My name is Sydney Carter," he volunteered.
+
+As a poker-player skims over the cards in his hand, Ford, in his
+mind's eye, ran over the value of giving or not giving his right
+name.  He decided that Ashton would not have heard it and that, if
+he gave a false one, there was a chance that later Ashton might
+find out that he had done so.  Accordingly he said, "Mine is Austin
+Ford," and seated himself at Ashton's table.  Within ten minutes
+the man he had promised to pluck from among the eight million
+inhabitants of London was smiling sympathetically at his jests and
+buying a drink.
+
+On the steamer Ford had rehearsed the story with which, should he
+meet Ashton, he would introduce himself.  It was one arranged to
+fit with his theory that Ashton was a crook.  If Ashton were a
+crook Ford argued that to at once ingratiate himself in his good
+graces he also must be a crook.  His plan was to invite Ashton to
+co-operate with him in some scheme that was openly dishonest.  By
+so doing he hoped apparently to place himself at Ashton's mercy.
+He believed if he could persuade Ashton he was more of a rascal
+than Ashton himself, and an exceedingly stupid rascal, any distrust
+the bookmaker might feel toward him would disappear.  He made his
+advances so openly, and apparently showed his hand so carelessly,
+that, from being bored, Ashton became puzzled, then interested; and
+when Ford insisted he should dine with him, he considered it so
+necessary to find out who the youth might be who was forcing
+himself upon him that he accepted the invitation.
+
+They adjourned to dress and an hour later, at Ford's suggestion,
+they met at the Carlton.  There Ford ordered a dinner calculated to
+lull his newly made friend into a mood suited to confidence, but
+which had on Ashton exactly the opposite effect.  Merely for the
+pleasure of his company, utter strangers were not in the habit of
+treating him to strawberries in February, and vintage champagne;
+and, in consequence, in Ford's hospitality he saw only cause for
+suspicion.  If, as he had first feared, Ford was a New York
+detective, it was most important he should know that.  No one
+better than Ashton understood that, at that moment, his presence in
+New York meant, for the police, unalloyed satisfaction, and for
+himself undisturbed solitude.  But Ford was unlike any detective of
+his acquaintance; and his acquaintance had been extensive.  It was
+true Ford was familiar with all the habits of Broadway and the
+Tenderloin.  Of places with which Ashton was intimate, and of men
+with whom Ashton had formerly been well acquainted, he talked
+glibly.  But, if he were a detective, Ashton considered, they
+certainly had improved the class.
+
+The restaurant into which for the first time Ashton had penetrated,
+and in which he felt ill at ease, was to Ford, he observed, a
+matter of course.  Evidently for Ford it held no terrors.  He
+criticised the service, patronized the head waiters, and grumbled
+at the food; and when, on leaving the restaurant, an Englishman and
+his wife stopped at their table to greet him, he accepted their
+welcome to London without embarrassment.
+
+Ashton, rolling his cigar between his lips, observed the incident
+with increasing bewilderment.
+
+"You've got some swell friends," he growled.  "I'll bet you never
+met THEM at Healey's!"
+
+"I meet all kinds of people in my business," said Ford.  "I once
+sold that man some mining stock, and the joke of it was," he added,
+smiling knowingly, "it turned out to be good."
+
+Ashton decided that the psychological moment had arrived.
+
+"What IS your business?" he asked.
+
+"I'm a company promoter," said Ford easily.  "I thought I told
+you."
+
+"I did not tell you that I was a company promoter, too, did I?"
+demanded Ashton.
+
+"No," answered Ford, with apparent surprise.  "Are you?  That's
+funny."
+
+Ashton watched for the next move, but the subject seemed in no way
+to interest Ford.  Instead of following it up he began afresh.
+
+"Have you any money lying idle?" he asked abruptly.  "About a
+thousand pounds."
+
+Ashton recognized that the mysterious stranger was about to
+disclose both himself and whatever object he had in seeking him
+out.  He cast a quick glance about him.
+
+"I can always find money," he said guardedly.  "What's the
+proposition?"
+
+With pretended nervousness Ford leaned forward and began the story
+he had rehearsed.  It was a new version of an old swindle and to
+every self-respecting confidence man was well known as the "sick
+engineer" game.  The plot is very simple.  The sick engineer is
+supposed to be a mining engineer who, as an expert, has examined a
+gold mine and reported against it.  For his services the company
+paid him partly in stock.  He falls ill and is at the point of
+death.  While he has been ill much gold has been found in the mine
+he examined, and the stock which he considers worthless is now
+valuable.  Of this, owing to his illness, he is ignorant.  One
+confidence man acts the part of the sick engineer, and the other
+that of a broker who knows the engineer possesses the stock but has
+no money with which to purchase it from him.  For a share of the
+stock he offers to tell the dupe where it and the engineer can be
+found.  They visit the man, apparently at the point of death, and
+the dupe gives him money for his stock.  Later the dupe finds the
+stock is worthless, and the supposed engineer and the supposed
+broker divide the money he paid for it.  In telling the story Ford
+pretended he was the broker and that he thought in Ashton he had
+found a dupe who would buy the stock from the sick engineer.
+
+As the story unfolded and Ashton appreciated the part Ford expected
+him to play in it, his emotions were so varied that he was in
+danger of apoplexy.  Amusement, joy, chagrin, and indignation
+illuminated his countenance.  His cigar ceased to burn, and with
+his eyes opened wide he regarded Ford in pitying wonder.
+
+"Wait!" he commanded.  He shook his head uncomprehendingly.  "Tell
+me," he asked, "do I look as easy as that, or are you just
+naturally foolish?"
+
+Ford pretended to fall into a state of great alarm.
+
+"I don't understand," he stammered.
+
+"Why, son," exclaimed Ashton kindly, "I was taught that story in
+the public schools.  I invented it.  I stopped using it before you
+cut your teeth.  Gee!" he exclaimed delightedly.  "I knew I had
+grown respectable-looking, but I didn't think I was so damned
+respectable-looking as that!"  He began to laugh silently; so
+greatly was he amused that the tears shone in his eyes and his
+shoulders shook.
+
+"I'm sorry for you, son," he protested, "but that's the funniest
+thing that's come my way in two years.  And you buying me hot-house
+grapes, too, and fancy water!  I wish you could see your face," he
+taunted.
+
+Ford pretended to be greatly chagrined.
+
+"All right," he declared roughly.  "The laugh's on me this time,
+but just because I lost one trick, don't think I don't know my
+business.  Now that I'm wise to what YOU are we can work together
+and--"
+
+The face of young Mr. Ashton became instantly grave.  His jaws
+snapped like a trap.  When he spoke his tone was assured and
+slightly contemptuous.
+
+"Not with ME you can't work!" he said.
+
+"Don't think because I fell down on this," Ford began hotly.
+
+"I'm not thinking of you at all," said Ashton.  "You're a nice
+little fellow all right, but you have sized me up wrong.  I am on
+the 'straight and narrow' that leads back to little old New York
+and God's country, and I am warranted not to run off my trolley."
+
+The words were in the vernacular, but the tone in which the young
+man spoke rang so confidently that it brought to Ford a pleasant
+thrill of satisfaction.  From the first he had found in the
+personality of the young man something winning and likable; a
+shrewd manliness and tolerant good-humor.  His eyes may have shown
+his sympathy, for, in sudden confidence, Ashton leaned nearer.
+
+"It's like this," he said.  "Several years ago I made a bad break
+and, about a year later, they got on to me and I had to cut and
+run.  In a month the law of limitation lets me loose and I can go
+back.  And you can bet I'm GOING back.  I will be on the bowsprit
+of the first boat.  I've had all I want of the 'fugitive-from-
+justice' game, thank you, and I have taken good care to keep a
+clean bill of health so that I won't have to play it again.
+They've been trying to get me for several years--especially the
+Pinkertons.  They have chased me all over Europe.  Chased me with
+all kinds of men; sometimes with women; they've tried everything
+except blood-hounds.  At first I thought YOU were a 'Pink,' that's
+why--"
+
+"I!" interrupted Ford, exploding derisively.  "That's GOOD!  That's
+one on YOU." He ceased laughing and regarded Ashton kindly.  "How
+do you know I'm not?" he asked.
+
+For an instant the face of the bookmaker grew a shade less red and
+his eyes searched those of Ford in a quick agony of suspicion.
+Ford continued to smile steadily at him, and Ashton breathed with
+relief.
+
+"I'll take a chance with you," he said, "and if you are as bad a
+detective as you are a sport I needn't worry."
+
+They both laughed, and, with sudden mutual liking, each raised his
+glass and nodded.
+
+"But they haven't got me yet," continued Ashton, "and unless they
+get me in the next thirty days I'm free.  So you needn't think that
+I'll help you.  It's 'never again' for me.  The first time, that
+was the fault of the crowd I ran with; the second time, that would
+be MY fault.  And there ain't going to be any second time."
+
+He shook his head doggedly, and with squared shoulders leaned back
+in his chair.
+
+"If it only breaks right for me," he declared, "I'll settle down in
+one of those 'Own-your own-homes,' forty-five minutes from
+Broadway, and never leave the wife and the baby."
+
+The words almost brought Ford to his feet.  He had forgotten the
+wife and the baby.  He endeavored to explain his surprise by a
+sudden assumption of incredulity.
+
+"Fancy you married!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Married!" protested Ashton.  "I'm married to the finest little
+lady that ever wore skirts, and in thirty-seven days I'll see her
+again.  Thirty-seven days," he repeated impatiently.  "Gee!  That's
+a hell of a long time!"
+
+Ford studied the young man with increased interest.  That he was
+speaking sincerely, from the heart, there seemed no possible doubt.
+
+Ashton frowned and his face clouded.  "I've not been able to treat
+her just right," he volunteered.  "If she wrote me, the letters
+might give them a clew, and I don't write HER because I don't want
+her to know all my troubles until they're over.  But I know," he
+added, "that five minutes' talk will set it all right.  That is, if
+she still feels about me the way I feel about her."
+
+The man crushed his cigar in his fingers and threw the pieces on
+the floor.  "That's what's been the worst!" he exclaimed bitterly.
+"Not hearing, not knowing.  It's been hell!"
+
+His eyes as he raised them were filled with suffering, deep and
+genuine.
+
+Ford rose suddenly.  "Let's go down to the Savoy for supper," he
+said.
+
+"Supper!" growled Ashton.  "What's the use of supper?  Do you
+suppose cold chicken and a sardine can keep me from THINKING?"
+
+Ford placed his hand on the other's shoulder.
+
+"You come with me," he said kindly.  "I'm going to do you a favor.
+I'm going to bring you a piece of luck.  Don't ask me any
+questions," he commanded hurriedly.  "Just take my word for it."
+
+They had sat so late over their cigars that when they reached the
+restaurant on the Embankment the supper-room was already partly
+filled, and the corridors and lounge were brilliantly lit and gay
+with well-dressed women.  Ashton regarded the scene with gloomy
+eyes.  Since he had spoken of his wife he had remained silent,
+chewing savagely on a fresh cigar.  But Ford was grandly excited.
+He did not know exactly what he intended to do.  He was prepared to
+let events direct themselves, but of two things he was assured:
+Mrs. Ashton loved her husband, and her husband loved her.  As the
+god in the car who was to bring them together, he felt a delightful
+responsibility.
+
+The young men left the coat-room and came down the short flight of
+steps that leads to the wide lounge of the restaurant.  Ford
+slightly in advance, searching with his eyes for Mrs Ashton, found
+her seated alone in the lounge, evidently waiting for him.  At the
+first glance she was hardly be recognized.  Her low-cut dinner gown
+of black satin that clung to her like a wet bath robe was the last
+word of the new fashion; and since Ford had seen her her blond hair
+had been arranged by an artist.  Her appearance was smart, elegant,
+daring.  She was easily the prettiest and most striking-looking
+woman in the room, and for an instant Ford stood gazing at her,
+trying to find in the self-possessed young woman the deserted wife
+of the steamer.  She did not see Ford.  Her eyes were following the
+progress down the hall of a woman, and her profile was toward him.
+
+The thought of the happiness he was about to bring to two young
+people gave Ford the sense of a genuine triumph, and when he turned
+to Ashton to point out his wife to him he was thrilling with pride
+and satisfaction.  His triumph received a bewildering shock.
+Already Ashton had discovered the presence of Mrs. Ashton.  He was
+standing transfixed, lost to his surroundings, devouring her with
+his eyes.  And then, to the amazement of Ford, his eyes filled with
+fear, doubt, and anger.  Swiftly, with the movement of a man
+ducking a blow, he turned and sprang up the stairs and into the
+coat-room.  Ford, bewildered and more conscious of his
+surroundings, followed him less quickly, and was in consequence
+only in time to see Ashton, dragging his overcoat behind him,
+disappear into the court-yard.  He seized his own coat and raced in
+pursuit.  As he ran into the court-yard Ashton, in the Strand, was
+just closing the door of a taxicab, but before the chauffeur could
+free it from the surrounding traffic, Ford had dragged the door
+open, and leaped inside.  Ashton was huddled in the corner,
+panting, his face pale with alarm.
+
+"What the devil ails you?" roared Ford.  "Are you trying to shake
+me?  You've got to come back.  You must speak to her."
+
+"Speak to her!" repeated Ashton.  His voice was sunk to a whisper.
+The look of alarm in his face was confused with one grim and
+menacing.  "Did you know she was there?" he demanded softly.  "Did
+you take me there, knowing--?"
+
+"Of course I knew," protested Ford.  "She's been looking for you--"
+
+His voice subsided in a squeak of amazement and pain.  Ashton's
+left hand had shot out and swiftly seized his throat.  With the
+other he pressed an automatic revolver against Ford's shirt front.
+
+"I know she's been looking for me," the man whispered thickly.
+"For two years she's been looking for me.  I know all about HER!
+But, WHO IN HELL ARE YOU?"
+
+Ford, gasping and gurgling, protested loyally.
+
+"You are wrong!" he cried.  "She's been at home waiting for you.
+She thinks you have deserted her and your baby.  I tell you she
+loves you, you fool, she LOVES you!"
+
+The fingers on his throat suddenly relaxed; the flaming eyes of
+Ashton, glaring into his, wavered and grew wide with amazement.
+
+"Loves me," he whispered.  "WHO loves me?"
+
+"Your wife," protested Ford; "the girl at the Savoy, your wife."
+
+Again the fingers of Ashton pressed deep around his neck.
+
+"That is not my wife," he whispered.  His voice was unpleasantly
+cold and grim.  "That's 'Baby Belle,' with her hair dyed, a
+detective lady of the Pinkertons, hired to find me.  And YOU know
+it.  Now, who are YOU?"
+
+To permit him to reply Ashton released his hand, but at the same
+moment, in a sudden access of fear, dug the revolver deeper into
+the pit of Ford's stomach.
+
+"Quick!" he commanded.  "Never mind the girl.  WHO ARE YOU?"
+
+Ford collapsed against the cushioned corner of the cab.  "And she
+begged me to find you," he roared, "because she LOVED you, because
+she wanted to BELIEVE in you!"  He held his arms above his head.
+"Go ahead and shoot!" he cried.  "You want to know who I am?" he
+demanded.  His voice rang with rage.  "I'm an amateur.  Just a
+natural born fool-amateur!  Go on and shoot!"
+
+The gun in Ashton's hand sank to his knee.  Between doubt and
+laughter his face was twisted in strange lines.  The cab was
+whirling through a narrow, unlit street leading to Covent Garden.
+Opening the door Ashton called to the chauffeur, and then turned to
+Ford.
+
+"You get off here!" he commanded.  "Maybe you're a 'Pink,' maybe
+you're a good fellow.  I think you're a good fellow, but I'm not
+taking any chances.  Get out!"
+
+Ford scrambled to the street, and as the taxicab again butted
+itself forward, Ashton leaned far through the window.  "Good-by,
+son," he called.  "Send me a picture-postal card to Paris.  For I
+am off to Maxim's," he cried, "and you can go to--"
+
+"Not at all!" shouted the amateur detective indignantly.  "I'm
+going back to take supper with 'Baby Belle'!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg Etext The Amateur, by Richard Harding Davis
+
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