diff options
Diffstat (limited to '25070-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/25070-h.htm | 10478 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/a-initial.png | bin | 0 -> 15210 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/b-initial.png | bin | 0 -> 13245 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/f-initial.png | bin | 0 -> 14350 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/h-initial.png | bin | 0 -> 14737 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/i-initial.png | bin | 0 -> 14233 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/illus001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 64096 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/illus050.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63700 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/illus134.jpg | bin | 0 -> 81408 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/illus202.jpg | bin | 0 -> 65524 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/illus268.jpg | bin | 0 -> 68037 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/illus324.jpg | bin | 0 -> 73283 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/j-initial.png | bin | 0 -> 16463 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/l-initial.png | bin | 0 -> 14044 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/logo-002.png | bin | 0 -> 11060 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/m-initial.png | bin | 0 -> 15402 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/t-initial.png | bin | 0 -> 12913 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25070-h/images/w-initial.png | bin | 0 -> 16516 bytes |
18 files changed, 10478 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/25070-h/25070-h.htm b/25070-h/25070-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e9941e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/25070-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10478 @@ +<!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 Mr. Opp, by Alice Hegan Rice</title> +<style type="text/css"> + /* slight differences for print and screen */ + @media print { + .main p {text-indent: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: .1em; } + span.pgmark {border: 0 !important; + display: none; visibility: hidden; } + hr.pg, .nopr {display: none; visibility: hidden; } + } + + @media screen { + p {text-indent: 0; + margin-bottom: 0.75em; } + span.pgmark {border-top: thin solid silver; + border-bottom: thin solid silver; + display: inline; } + div.poem {padding-top: .25em; + padding-bottom: .75em; } + } + + /* links */ + @media print { + a:link {color: black; background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: none;} + a:visited {color: black; background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: none;} + } + + @media screen { + a:link {color: blue; background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: none;} + a:visited {color: blue; background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: none;} + a:hover {color: red; background-color: inherit;} + a:focus {outline: #ffee66 solid 2px; color: inherit; background-color: #ffee66;} + } + + body {margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: large; + text-align: justify; } + + div.main {margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + max-width: 30em; + page-break-after: always; } + + div.frontmatter {margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + page-break-after: always; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0 ! important; } + .frontmatter table {margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + min-width: 30em; } + .frontmatter tr.first td {padding-top: 0.05em ! important; } + .frontmatter td {vertical-align: text-top; + text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; + padding: 1em 0.5em 0.05em 0.5em; } + .frontmatter td.rt {text-align: right; + vertical-align: text-bottom; + text-indent: 0; + width: 7em; + padding: 1em 0.05em 0.05em 0.25em; } + .frontmatter td.pg {text-align: right; + vertical-align: text-bottom; + text-indent: 0 ; + padding: 1em 0.05em 0.05em 0.25em; } + .frontmatter small {font-size: 60%; } + p.auth {font-size: 140%; + padding-top: 2em; + padding-bottom: 0; } + p.illo {padding-top: 3em; } + p.pub2 {padding-top: 4em; + font-size: 90%; + line-height: 1.5;} + p.pub3 {font-size: 75%; } + + h1 {font-size: 240%; + text-align: center; + font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.4; + word-spacing: 0.25em; + letter-spacing: 0.05em; + padding-top: 2em; + padding-bottom: 0; margin-bottom:0; + page-break-after: avoid ! important; } + h2.chap {font-size: 140%; + text-align: center; + font-weight: normal; + line-height: 2; + word-spacing: 0.5em; + padding-top: 3em; + padding-bottom: 0; margin-bottom: 1.5em; + page-break-after: avoid ! important; } + h2.chapi {font-size: 140%; + text-align: center; + font-weight: normal; + line-height: 2; + word-spacing: 0.5em; + padding-top: 1em; + padding-bottom: 0; margin-bottom: 1.5em; + page-break-after: avoid ! important; } + + p {margin-top: 0; } + p.tb {margin-top: 1.5em; } + p.start {text-indent: 0 ! important; + margin-top: 1.25em; } + p.start span {font-style: normal; + font-variant: small-caps; + margin-left: -9px; } + p.start span.initq {font-style: normal; + font-variant: normal; + float: left; + margin-left: -1em; + margin-bottom: -1.2em; } + div.quote {font-size: medium; + padding-top : 0.75em; + padding-bottom: 0.75em; } + p.fin {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0 ! important; + text-transform: lowercase; + font-variant: small-caps; + word-spacing: 0.5em; + letter-spacing: 0.15em; + margin: 2em auto; } + p.sign {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + padding-top: 1em; + padding-bottom: 1em; } + p.yours {text-align: right; + margin-right: 35%; + padding-top: 1em; } + + img.initial {float: left; + clear: left; + margin: 0 12px 0 0; } + + /* illustrations */ + p.illus img {padding: 5px; + margin-bottom: 10px; + clear: both;} + p.illus {text-indent: 0 ! important; + text-align: center; + margin: 2.5em 0; + font-style: normal; + font-size: 80%; } + + /* styling for poems */ + div.poem {text-align: left; + margin-left: 10em; + margin-right: 0em; + page-break-inside: avoid !important; } + div.poem div { /* default line, no indent */ + line-height: 1.3em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-left: 5em; + text-indent: -5em; } + div.poem .i2 {text-indent: -4em; } + div.poem .i4 {text-indent: -3em; } + + hr {background-color: black; color: inherit; padding: 0;} + hr.pg {width: 100%; + height: 5px; + margin-top: 15px; + margin-bottom: 15px; } + hr.tiny {width: 3em; + height: 1px; + margin: 0 auto 0.8em auto; } + + span.pgmark {font-size: x-small; + font-family: serif; + font-variant: normal; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + line-height: 1.2; + text-indent: 0; text-align: left; + margin: 0; padding: .05em 0.5em !important; + position: absolute; left: 1%; } + + /* for documenting trivial corrections */ + ins.TNsilent {text-decoration: none; + border-bottom: 0; } + + .ns {display: none; visibility: hidden; } + .pgbrk {page-break-after: always; } + .pbb {page-break-before: always; } + .ctr {text-align: center; text-indent: 0 ! important; } + .noindent {text-indent: 0 ! important; } + .smc {font-variant: small-caps; } + .allsc {font-variant: small-caps; + text-transform: lowercase; } + em {font-style: italic; } + .sans {font-family: sans-serif; } + +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Opp, by Alice Hegan Rice + +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: Mr. Opp + +Author: Alice Hegan Rice + +Release Date: April 14, 2008 [EBook #25070] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. OPP *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Wilson and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<hr class="pg" /> + + +<p class="illus pbb pgbrk"><a name="png.001" id="png.001"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">i</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img src="images/illus001.jpg" width="450" height="713" + alt="" title="Frontispiece" /><br + />“He read impressively”</p> + +<div class="frontmatter"> +<h1><a name="png.002" id="png.002"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">ii</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>MR. OPP</h1> + +<p class="auth"><small>BY</small><br + />ALICE HEGAN RICE</p> + +<p><small>AUTHOR OF “MRS. WIGGS OF THE CABBAGE PATCH,”<br + />“LOVEY MARY,” “SANDY,” ETC.</small></p> + +<p class="illo">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS<br + />BY LEON GUIPON</p> + +<p class="illus"><img src="images/logo-002.png" + alt="Publisher's device" title="Publishers' device" width="150" height="146" /></p> +<p class="pgbrk">NEW YORK<br + />THE CENTURY CO.<br + />1909</p> + + +<p class="pub2"><a name="png.003" id="png.003"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">iii</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Copyright, 1908, 1909, by<br + /><span class="smc">The Century Co.</span></p> +<hr class="tiny" /> +<p class="pub3"><i>Published, April, 1909</i></p> + +<p class="pub2 pgbrk sans">THE DE VINNE PRESS</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.004" id="png.004"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">iv</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<table summary="List of Figures"> +<tr class="first"><td></td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr class="first"><td>“He read impressively”</td> + <td class="rt"><a href="#png.001"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>“‘Don’t leave me’”</td> + <td class="pg"><a href="#png.050">45</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>“‘Why, Mr. Opp, I’m not old enough’”</td> + <td class="pg"><a href="#png.134">124</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>“It was Mr. Opp saying his prayers”</td> + <td class="pg"><a href="#png.202">192</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>“‘Oh, my God, it has come’”</td> + <td class="pg"><a href="#png.268">258</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>“‘Can’t nobody beat me making skirts’”</td> + <td class="pg"><a href="#png.324">314</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="main"> + + +<h1><a name="png.008" id="png.008"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">3</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>MR. OPP</h1> + + +<h2 class="chapi">I</h2> + + +<p class="start"><span class="initq">“</span><img class="initial" + src="images/i-initial.png" alt="I" title="I" width="160" height="150" + /><span> hope</span> your passenger +hasn’t missed his +train,” observed the ferryman +to Mr. Jimmy +Fallows, who sat on the +river bank with the +painter of his rickety little naphtha +launch held loosely in his hand.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Opp?” said Jimmy. “I bet he +did. If there is one person in the world +that’s got a talent for missing things, +it’s Mr. Opp. I never seen him that he +hadn’t just missed gettin’ a thousand +dollar job, or inventin’ a patent, or bein’ +hurt when he had took out a accident +policy. If he did ketch a train, like +enough it was goin’ the wrong way.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.009" id="png.009"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">4</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Jimmy had been waiting since nine in +the morning, and it was now well past +noon. He was a placid gentleman of +curvilinear type, short of limb and large +of girth. His trousers, of that morose +hue termed by the country people +“plum,” reached to his armpits, and his +hat, large and felt and weather-beaten, +was only prevented from eclipsing his +head by the stubborn resistance of two +small, knob-like ears.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Opp ain’t been back to the Cove +for a long while, has he?” asked the ferryman, +whose intellectual life depended +solely upon the crumbs of information +scattered by chance passers-by.</p> + +<p>“Goin’ on two years,” said Mr. Fallows. +“Reckon he’s been so busy formin’ +trusts and buyin’ out railways and +promotin’ things generally that he ain’t +had any time to come back home. It’s +his step-pa’s funeral that’s bringin’ +him now. The only time city folks seem +to want to see their kin folks in the country +is when they are dead.”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t that him a-comin’ down the +<a name="png.010" id="png.010"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">5</span><span class="ns">] + </span>bank?” asked the ferryman, shading his +eyes with his hands.</p> + +<p>Mr. Fallows, with some difficulty, got +to his feet.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s him all right. Hustlin’ +to beat the band. Wonder if he takes me +for a street car.”</p> + +<p>Coming with important stride down +the wharf, and whistling as he came, was +a small man of about thirty-five. In one +hand he carried a large suit-case, and in +the other a new and shining grip. On +both were painted, in letters designed to +be seen, “D. Webster Opp, Kentucky.”</p> + +<p>In fact, everything about him was evidently +designed to be seen. His new suit +of insistent plaid, his magnificent tie sagging +with the weight of a colossal scarf-pin, +his brown hat, his new tan shoes, all +demanded individual and instant attention.</p> + +<p>The only insignificant thing about Mr. +Opp was himself. His slight, undeveloped +body seemed to be in a chronic state +of apology for failing properly to set off +the glorious raiment wherewith it was +<a name="png.011" id="png.011"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">6</span><span class="ns">] + </span>clothed. His pock-marked face, wide at +the temples, sloped to a small, pointed +chin, which, in turn, sloped precipitously +into a long, thin neck. It was Mr. Opp’s +eyes, however, that one saw first, for +they were singularly vivid, with an expression +that made strangers sometimes +pause in the street to ask him if he had +spoken to them. Small, pale, and red of +rim, they nevertheless held the look of +intense hunger—hunger for the hope or +the happiness of the passing moment.</p> + +<p>As he came bustling down to the +water’s-edge he held out a friendly hand +to Jimmy Fallows.</p> + +<p>“How are you, Jimmy?” he said in a +voice freighted with importance. “Hope +I haven’t kept you waiting long. Several +matters of business come up at the +last and final moment, and I missed the +morning train.”</p> + +<p>Jimmy, who was pouring gasolene +into a tank in the launch, treated the +ferryman to a prodigious wink.</p> + +<p>“Oh, not more’n four or five hour,” +he said, casting side glances of mingled +<a name="png.012" id="png.012"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">7</span><span class="ns">] + </span>scorn and admiration at Mr. Opp’s attire. +“It is a good thing it was the +funeral you was tryin’ to get to instid +of the death-bed.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that reminds me,” said Mr. Opp, +suddenly exchanging his air of cheerfulness +for one of becoming gravity—“what +time is the funeral obsequies +going to take place?”</p> + +<p>“Whenever we git there,” said +Jimmy, pushing off the launch and waving +his hand to the ferryman. “You’re +one of the chief mourners, and I’m the +undertaker; there ain’t much danger in +us gettin’ left.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp deposited his baggage carefully +on the seat, and spread his coat +across the new grip to keep it from getting +splashed.</p> + +<p>“How long was Mr. Moore sick?” he +asked, fanning himself with his hat.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Jimmy, “he was in a +dangerous and critical condition for +about twenty-one years, accordin’ to his +own account. I been seein’ him durin’ +that time on a average of four times a +<a name="png.013" id="png.013"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">8</span><span class="ns">] + </span>day, and last night when I seen him in +his coffin it was the first time the old +gentleman failed to ask me to give him a +drink on account of his poor health.”</p> + +<p>“Is Ben there?” asked Mr. Opp, studying +a time-table, and making a note in his +memorandum-book.</p> + +<p>“Your brother Ben? Yes; he come +this mornin’ just before I left. He was +cussin’ considerable because you wasn’t +there, so’s they could go on and git +through. He wants to start back to Missouri +to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Is he out at the house?”</p> + +<p>“No; he’s at Your Hotel.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp looked up in surprise, and +Jimmy chuckled.</p> + +<p>“That there’s the name of my new +hotel. Started up sence you went away. +Me and old man Tucker been running +boardin’-houses side by side all these +years. What did he do last summer but +go out and git him a sign as big as the +side of the house, and git Nick Fenny to +paint ‘Our Hotel’ on it; then he put it +up right across the sidewalk, from the +<a name="png.014" id="png.014"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">9</span><span class="ns">] + </span>gate clean out to the road. I didn’t say +nothin’, but let the boys keep on a-kiddin’ +me till the next day; then I got me +a sign jus’ like his, with ‘Your Hotel’ on +it, and put it up crost my sidewalk. +He’d give a pretty if they was both +down now; but he won’t take his down +while mine is up, and I ain’t got no +notion of taking it down.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Opp, absently, for his +mind was still on the time-table; “I see +that there’s an accommodation that departs +out of Coreyville in the neighborhood +of noon to-morrow. It’s a little +unconvenient, I’m afraid, but do you +think you could get me back in time to +take it?”</p> + +<p>“Why, what’s yer hurry?” asked +Jimmy, steering for mid-stream. “I +thought you’d come to visit a spell, with +all them bags and things.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp carelessly tossed back the +sleeve of the coat, to display more fully +the name on the suit-case. “Them’s +drummers’ samples,” he said almost +reverently—“the finest line of shoes that +<a name="png.015" id="png.015"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">10</span><span class="ns">] + </span>have ever been put out by any house in +the United States, bar none.”</p> + +<p>“Why, I thought you was in the insurance +business,” said Jimmy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no; that was last year, just previous +to my reporting on a newspaper. +This”—and Mr. Opp tried to spread out +his hands, but was slightly deterred by +the size of his cuffs—“this is the chance +I been looking for all my life. It takes +brains and a’ educated nerve, and a +knowledge of the world. I ought to +create considerable capital in the next +few years. And just as soon as I do”—and +Mr. Opp leaned earnestly toward +Jimmy, and tapped one finger upon the +palm of his other hand—“just as soon +as I do, I intend to buy up all the land +lying between Turtle Creek and the +river. There’s enough oil under that +there ground to ca’m the troubled +waters of the Pacific Ocean. You remember +old Mr. Beeker? Well, he told +me, ten years ago, that he bored a well +for brine over there, and it got so full of +black petroleum he had to abandon it. +<a name="png.016" id="png.016"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">11</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Now, I’m calculating on forming a stock +company,—you and Mr. Tucker, I and +old man Hager, and one or two others,—and +buying up that ground. Then we’ll +sink a test well, get up a derrick and a’ +engine, and have the thing running in no +time. The main thing is a competent +manager. You know I’m thinking +seriously of taking it myself? It’s too +big a proposition to run any risks with.”</p> + +<p>“Here, say, wait a minute; how long +have you had this here shoe job?” +Jimmy caught madly at the first fact in +sight to keep him from being swept away +by the flood of Mr. Opp’s oily possibilities.</p> + +<p>“I taken it last week,” said Mr. Opp; +“had to go all the way to Chicago to get +my instructions, and to get fitted out. +My territory is a specially important +one; four counties, all round Chicago.”</p> + +<p>“I was in Chicago oncet,” said +Jimmy, his eyes brightening at the memory. +“By golly! if the world is as big in +every direction as it is in that, she’s a +whopper!”</p> + +<p><a name="png.017" id="png.017"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">12</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The wind, freshening as they got +under way, loosened the canvas overhead, +and Mr. Opp rose to buckle it into +place. As he half knelt in the bow of the +boat, he lifted his face to the cool breeze, +and took a deep breath of satisfaction. +The prosaic river from Coreyville to the +Cove was the highway he knew best in +the world. Under the summer sunshine +the yellow waters lost their sullen hue, +and reflected patches of vivid red and +white from the cottages and barns that +dotted the distant shore.</p> + +<p>“I don’t consider there’s any sceneries +in the country that’ll even begin to +compare with these here,” Mr. Opp announced, +out of the depths of his wide +experience. “Just look at the sunshine +pouring forth around the point of the +island. It spills through the trees and +leaks out over the water just like quicksilver. +Now, that’s a good thought! +It’s perfectly astounding, you might say +surprising, how easy thoughts come to +me. I ought to been a writer; lots of +folks have said so. Why, there ain’t a +<a name="png.018" id="png.018"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">13</span><span class="ns">] + </span>day of my life that I don’t get a poem in +my head.”</p> + +<p>“Shucks!” observed Jimmy Fallows. +“I’d as lief read figgers on a tow-boat +as to read poetry. Old man Gusty used +to write poetry, but he couldn’t get nobody +to print it, so he decided to start a +newspaper at the Cove and chuck it full +of his own poems. He bought a whole +printin’ outfit, and set it up in Pete +Aker’s old carpenter shop out there at +the edge of town, opposite his home. But +’fore he got his paper started he up and +died. Yes, sir; and the only one of his +poems that he ever did git in print was +the one his wife had cut on his tombstone.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp was not listening. With his +head bared and his lips parted he was indulging +in his principal weakness. For +Mr. Opp, it must be confessed, was given +to violent intoxication, not from an extraneous +source, but from too liberal +draughts of his own imagination. In +extenuation, the claims of genius might +be urged, for a genius he unquestionably +<a name="png.019" id="png.019"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">14</span><span class="ns">] + </span>was in that he created something out of +nothing. Out of an abnormal childhood, +a lonely boyhood, and a failure-haunted +manhood, he had managed to achieve an +absorbing career. Each successive enterprise +had loomed upon his horizon big +with possibilities, and before it sank to +oblivion, another scheme, portentous, +significant, had filled its place. Life was +a succession of crises, and through them +he saw himself moving, now a shrewd +merchant, now a professional man, again +an author of note, but oftenest of all a +promoter of great enterprises, a financier, +and man of affairs.</p> + +<p>While he was thus mentally engaged +in drilling oil-wells, composing poetry, +and selling shoes, Jimmy Fallows was +contemplating with fascinated wonder an +object that floated from his coat pocket. +From a brown-paper parcel, imperfectly +wrapped, depended a curl of golden hair, +and it bobbed about in the breeze in a +manner that reduced Mr. Fallows to a +state of abject curiosity.</p> + +<p>So intent was Jimmy upon his investigation +<a name="png.020" id="png.020"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">15</span><span class="ns">] + </span>that he failed to hold his course, +and the launch swung around the end of +the island with such a sudden jerk that +Mr. Opp took an unexpected seat.</p> + +<p>As he did so, his hand touched the +paper parcel in his pocket, and realizing +that it was untied, he hastily endeavored, +by a series of surreptitious manœuvers, +to conceal what it contained. Feeling the +quizzical eye of his shipmate full upon +him, he assumed an air of studied indifference, +and stoically ignored the subterranean +chuckles and knowing winks in +which Mr. Fallows indulged.</p> + +<p>Presently, when the situation had become +poignant, Mr. Opp observed that he +supposed the funeral would take place +from the church.</p> + +<p>“I reckon so,” said Jimmy, reluctantly +answering to the call of the conversational +rudder. “I told the boys to have +a hack there for you and Mr. Ben and +Miss Kippy.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think my sister will be there,” +said Mr. Opp, with dignity; “she seldom +or never leaves the house.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.021" id="png.021"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">16</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Reckon Mr. Ben will have to take +keer of her now,” said Jimmy; “she +surely will miss her pa. He never done +a lick of work since I knowed him, but he +was a nice, quiet old fellow, and he certainly +was good to pore Miss Kippy.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Moore was a gentleman,” said +Mr. Opp, and he sighed.</p> + +<p>“Ain’t she got any kin on his side? +No folks except you two half-brothers?”</p> + +<p>“That’s all,” said Mr. Opp; “just I +and Ben.”</p> + +<p>“Gee! that’s kind of tough on you <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: + original shows a period">all,</ins> +ain’t it?”</p> + +<p>But the sympathy was untimely, for +Mr. Opp’s dignity had been touched in a +sensitive place.</p> + +<p>“Our sister will be well provided for,” +he said, and the conversation suffered a +relapse.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">Mr. Opp went back to his time-tables +and his new note-book, and for the rest +of the trip Jimmy devoted himself to his +wheel, with occasional ocular excursions +in the direction of Mr. Opp’s coat pocket.</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.022" id="png.022"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">17</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>II</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/l-initial.png" + alt="L" width="158" height="150" /><span>ying</span> in the crook of the +river’s elbow, with the +nearest railroad eighteen +miles away, Cove City, +familiarly known as the +Cove, rested serenely undisturbed +by the progress of the world. +Once a day, at any time between sundown +and midnight, it was roused from +its drowsiness by the arrival of the mail-boat, +and, shaking itself into temporary +wakefulness, sat up and rubbed its eyes. +This animation was, however, of short +duration, for before the packet had +whistled for the next landing, the Cove +had once more settled back into slumber.</p> + +<p>Main Street began with a shabby, unpainted +school-house, and following dramatic +sequence, ended abruptly in the +graveyard. Two cross-streets, which had +started out with laudable ideas of +<a name="png.023" id="png.023"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">18</span><span class="ns">] + </span>independence, lost courage at Main Street +and sought strength in union; but the +experiment was not successful, and a +cow-path was the result. The only semblance +of frivolity about the town was a +few straggling cottages on stilts of varying +height as they approached the river; +for they seemed ever in the act of holding +up their skirts preparatory to wading +forth into the water.</p> + +<p>On this particular summer afternoon +Cove City was less out of crimp than +usual. The gathering of loafers that +generally decorated the empty boxes +piled along the sidewalk was missing. +The old vehicles and weary-looking +mules which ordinarily formed an irregular +fringe along the hitching rail were +conspicuously absent. A subdued excitement +was in the air, and at the slightest +noise feminine heads appeared at +windows, and masculine figures appeared +in doorways, and comments were exchanged +in low tones from one side of +the street to the other. For the loss of +a citizen, even a poor one, disturbs the +<a name="png.024" id="png.024"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">19</span><span class="ns">] + </span>surface of affairs, and when the event +brings two relatives from a distance, the +ripples of excitement increase perceptibly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Moore had been a citizen-in-law, +as it were, and had never been considered +in any other light than poor Mrs. Opp’s +widower. Mrs. Opp’s poor widower +might have been a truer way of stating +it, but even a town has its parental weaknesses.</p> + +<p>For two generations the Opp family +had been a source of mystery and romance +to the Cove. It stood apart, like +the house that held it, poor and shabby, +but bearing a baffling atmosphere of gentility, +of superiority, and of reserve.</p> + +<p>Old women recalled strange tales of +the time when Mrs. Opp had come to the +Cove as a bride, and how she refused to +meet any of the townspeople, and lived +alone in the old house on the river-bank, +watching from hour to hour for the wild +young husband who clerked on one of the +river steamers. They told how she grew +thin and white with waiting, and how, +<a name="png.025" id="png.025"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">20</span><span class="ns">] + </span>when her two boys were small, she made +them stand beside her for hours at a +time, watching the river and listening for +the whistle of his boat. Then the story +went that the gay young husband stopped +coming altogether, and still she watched +and waited, never allowing the boys out +of her sight, refusing to send them to +school, or to let them play with other +children. By and by word was brought +that her husband had been killed in a +quarrel over cards, and little Mrs. Opp, +having nothing now to watch for and to +wait for, suddenly became strangely +changed.</p> + +<p>Old Aunt Tish, the negro servant, was +the only person who ever crossed the +threshold, and she told of a strange life +that went on behind the closely curtained +windows, where the sunlight was never +allowed to enter, and lamps burned all +day long.</p> + +<p>“Yas, ’m,” she used to say in answer +to curious questionings; “hit’s jes like +play-actin’ all de time. The Missis dress +herself up, an’ ’tend like she’s a queen +<a name="png.026" id="png.026"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">21</span><span class="ns">] + </span>or a duke or somethin’, an’ dat little D. +he jes acts out all dem fool things she +tells him to, an’ he ain’t never bein’ hisself +at all, but jes somebody big and +mighty and grand-like.”</p> + +<p>When the boys were half-grown, a +stranger appeared in the Cove, a dapper +little man of about fifty in a shabby frock-coat +and a shabbier high hat, kind of face +and gentle of voice, but with the dignity +of conscious superiority. The day of his +arrival he called upon Mrs. Opp; the +second day he took a preacher with him +and married her. Whatever old romance +had led to this climax could only be dimly +guessed at by the curious townspeople.</p> + +<p>For two years Mr. Moore fought for +the mind of his old sweetheart as he had +long ago fought for her heart. He +opened the house to the sunshine, and +coaxed the little lady back into the world +she had forgotten. The boys were sent +to school, the old games and fancies were +forbidden. Gradually the color returned +to her cheeks, and the light to her eyes.</p> + +<p>Then little Kippy was born, and +<a name="png.027" id="png.027"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">22</span><span class="ns">] + </span>happiness such as seldom comes to one who +has tasted the dregs of life came to the +frail little woman in the big four-poster +bed. For ten days she held the baby fingers +to her heart, and watched the little +blossom of a maid unfold.</p> + +<p>But one black night, when the rain +beat against the panes, and the moan of +the river sounded in her ears, she suddenly +sat up in bed: she had heard the +whistle of <em>his</em> boat! Full of dumb terror +she crept to the window, and with her +face pressed against the glass she waited +and watched. The present was swallowed +up in the past. She was once more +alone, unloved, afraid. Stealthily snatching +a cloak, she crept down into the garden, +feeling her way through the sodden +grass, and the jimpson weed which the +rain had beaten down.</p> + +<p>And ever since, when children pass the +house on their way to school, they peep +through the broken fence rails, and point +out to one another, in awed tones, the +tree under which Miss Kippy’s mother +killed herself. Then they look half-fearfully +<a name="png.028" id="png.028"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">23</span><span class="ns">] + </span>at the windows in the hope of catching +a glimpse of Miss Kippy herself.</p> + +<p>For Kippy had had a long illness in +her thirteenth year which left her with +the face and mind of a little child, and +kindly, shabby Mr. Moore, having made +the supreme effort of his life, from this +time on ceased to struggle against the +weakness that for half a lifetime had beset +him, and sought oblivion in innocuous +but perpetual libations. The one duty +which he recognized was the care of his +invalid daughter.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">As soon as they were old enough, the +boys launched their small craft and set +forth to seek their fortunes. Ben, with +no cargo on board but his own desires, +went west and found a snug and comfortable +harbor, while D. Webster, the +hope of his mother and the pride of the +town, was at thirty-five still putting out +to sea, with all sail set, only to find himself +again and again aground on the +sandbars of the old familiar Cove.</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.029" id="png.029"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">24</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>III</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/j-initial.png" + alt="J" title="J" width="156" height="150" /><span>immy Fallows</span>, being the +boastful possessor of the +fleetest horse in town, +was the first to return +from the funeral. Extricating +himself with +some difficulty from the narrow-seated +buggy, he held out his hand to Mrs. Fallows. +But that imposing lady, evidently +offended with her jovial lord, refused his +proffered aid, and clambered out over +the wheel on the other side.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fallows, whose architectural effects +were strictly perpendicular, cast a +perpetual shadow of disapproval over +the life partner whom it had pleased +Providence to bestow upon her. Jimmy +was a born satirist; he knew things are +not what they seem, and he wickedly rejoiced +thereat. To his literal, +<a name="png.030" id="png.030"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">25</span><span class="ns">] + </span>pious-minded wife he at times seemed the +incarnation of wickedness.</p> + +<p>Sweeping with dignity beneath the +arching sign of Your Hotel, she took her +seat upon the porch, and, disposing her +sable robes about her, folded her mitted +hands, and waited to see the people return +from the funeral.</p> + +<p>Jimmy, with the uncertain expression +of one who is ready to apologize, but cannot +remember the offense, hovered about +uneasily, casting tempting bits of conversational +bait into the silence, but failing +to attract so much as a nibble of +attention.</p> + +<p>“Miss Jemima Fenny was over to the +funeral from Birdtown. Miss Jim is one +of ’em, ain’t she?”</p> + +<p>There was no response.</p> + +<p>“Had her brother Nick with her. He’s +just gettin’ over typhoid fever; looks +about the size and color of a slate pencil. +I bet, in spite of Miss Jim’s fine clothes, +they ain’t had a square meal for a month. +That’s because she kept him at school so +long when he orter been at work. He did +<a name="png.031" id="png.031"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">26</span><span class="ns">] + </span>git a job in a newspaper office over at +Coreyville not long ’fore he was took +sick. They tell me he’s as slick as a +onion about newspaper work.”</p> + +<p>Continued silence; but Jimmy boldly +cast another fly:</p> + +<p>“Last funeral we had was Mrs. Tucker’s, +wasn’t it? Old man Tucker was +there to-day. Crape band on his hat is +climbin’ up; it’ll be at high mast ag’in +soon.”</p> + +<p>Dense, nerve-racking silence; but +Jimmy made one more effort:</p> + +<p>“The Opps are coming back here tonight +to talk things over before Ben goes +on to Missouri. He counts on ketchin’ +the night boat. It won’t give him much +time, will it?”</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Fallows, unrelaxed, stared +fixedly before her; she had taken refuge +in that most trying of all rejoinders, silence, +and the fallible Jimmy, who waxed +strong and prospered upon abuse, +drooped and languished under this new +and cruel form of punishment.</p> + +<p>It was not until a buggy stopped at the +<a name="png.032" id="png.032"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">27</span><span class="ns">] + </span>door, and the Opp brothers descended, +that the tension was in any way relieved.</p> + +<p>Jimmy greeted them with the joy of an +Arctic explorer welcoming a relief party.</p> + +<p>“Come right on in here, in the office,” +he cried hospitably; “your talkin’ +won’t bother me a speck.”</p> + +<p>But Ben abruptly expressed his desire +for more private quarters, and led the +way up-stairs.</p> + +<p>The low-ceiled room into which he +ushered D. Webster was of such a depressing +drab that even the green and +red bed-quilt failed to disperse the +gloom. The sole decoration, classic in +its severity, was a large advertisement +for a business college, whereon an elk’s +head grew out of a bow of ribbon, the +horns branching and rebranching into a +forest of curves and flourishes.</p> + +<p>The elder Opp took his seat by the +window, and drummed with impatient +fingers on the sill. He was small, like his +brother, but of a compact, sturdy build. +His chin, instead of dwindling to a point, +was square and stubborn, and his eyes +<a name="png.033" id="png.033"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">28</span><span class="ns">] + </span>looked straight ahead at the thing he +wanted, and neither saw nor cared for +what lay outside. He had been trying +ever since leaving the cemetery to bring +the conversation down to practical matters, +but D. Webster, seizing the first opportunity +of impressing himself upon his +next of kin, had persisted in indulging in +airy and time-destroying flights of fancy.</p> + +<p>The truth is that our Mr. Opp was not +happy. In his secret heart he felt a bit +apologetic before the material success of +his elder brother. Hence it was necessary +to talk a great deal and to set forth +in detail the very important business +enterprises upon which he was about to +embark.</p> + +<p>Presently Ben Opp looked at his +watch.</p> + +<p>“See here,” he interrupted, “that boat +may be along at any time. We’d better +come to some decision about the estate.”</p> + +<p>D. Webster ran his fingers through his +hair, which stood in valiant defense of +the small bald spot behind it.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” he said; “business is +<a name="png.034" id="png.034"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">29</span><span class="ns">] + </span>business. I’ll have to be off myself the very +first thing in the morning. This funeral +couldn’t have come at a more unfortunate +time for me. You see, my special +territory—”</p> + +<p>But Ben saw the danger of another +bolt, and checked him:</p> + +<p>“How much do you think the old house +is worth?”</p> + +<p>D. Webster drew forth his shiny note-book +and pencil and made elaborate calculations.</p> + +<p>“I should say,” he said, as one financier +to another, “that including of the +house and land and contents of same, it +would amount to the whole sum total of +about two thousand dollars.”</p> + +<p>“That is about what I figured,” said +Ben; “now, how much money is in the +bank?”</p> + +<p>D. Webster produced a formidable +packet of letters and papers from his inside +pocket and, after some searching, +succeeded in finding a statement, which +set forth the fact that the Ripper County +Bank held in trust one thousand dollars, +<a name="png.035" id="png.035"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">30</span><span class="ns">] + </span>to be divided between the children of +Mary Opp Moore at the death of her +husband, Curtis V. Moore.</p> + +<p>“One thousand dollars!” said Ben, +looking blankly at his brother, “Why, +for heaven’s sake, what have Mr. Moore +and Kippy been living on all these +years?”</p> + +<p>D. Webster moved uneasily in his +chair. “Oh, they’ve managed to get +along first rate,” he said evasively.</p> + +<p>His brother looked at him narrowly. +“On the interest of a thousand dollars?” +He leaned forward, and his face hardened: +“See here, have you been putting +up cash all this time for that old codger +to loaf on? Is that why you have never +gotten ahead?”</p> + +<p>D. Webster, with hands in his pockets +and his feet stretched in front of him, +was blinking in furious embarrassment +at the large-eyed elk overhead.</p> + +<p>“To think,” went on Ben, his slow +wrath rising, “of your staying here in +Kentucky all these years and handing +out what you made to that old sponger. +<a name="png.036" id="png.036"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">31</span><span class="ns">] + </span>I cut loose and made a neat little sum, +married, and settled down. And what +have you done? Where have you gotten? +Anybody that would let himself be imposed +upon like that deserves to fail. +Now what do you propose to do about +this money?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp did not propose to do anything. +The affront offered his business +sagacity was of such a nature that it demanded +all his attention. He composed +various denunciatory answers with which +to annihilate his brother. He hesitated +between two courses, whether he should +hurl himself upon him in righteous indignation +and demand physical satisfaction, +or whether he should rise in a calm and +manly attitude and wither him with +blighting sarcasm. And while the decision +was pending, he still sat with his +hands in his pockets, and his feet +stretched forth, and blinked indignantly +at the ornate elk.</p> + +<p>“The estate,” continued Ben, contempt +still in his face, “amounts at most +to three thousand dollars, after the house +<a name="png.037" id="png.037"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">32</span><span class="ns">] + </span>is sold. Part of this, of course, will go +to the maintenance of Kippy.”</p> + +<p>At mention of her name, Mr. Opp’s +gaze dropped abruptly to his brother’s +face.</p> + +<p>“What about Kippy? She’s going to +live with you, ain’t she?” he asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>Ben Opp shook his head emphatically. +“She certainly is not. I haven’t the +slightest idea of burdening myself and +family with that feeble-minded girl.”</p> + +<p>“But see here,” said Mr. Opp, his anger +vanishing in the face of this new +complication, “you don’t know Kippy; +she’s just similar to a little child, quiet +and gentle-like. Never give anybody any +trouble in her life. Just plays with her +dolls and sings to herself all day.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly,” said Ben; “twenty-five +years old and still playing with dolls. I +saw her yesterday, dressed up in all +sorts of foolish toggery, talking to her +hands, and laughing. Aunt Tish humors +her, and her father humored her, but +I’m not going to. I feel sorry for her +<a name="png.038" id="png.038"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">33</span><span class="ns">] + </span>all right, but I am not going to take her +home with me.”</p> + +<p>D. Webster nervously twisted the +large seal ring which he wore on his +forefinger. “Then what do you mean,” +he said hesitatingly—“what do you want +to do about it?”</p> + +<p>“Why, send her to an asylum, of +course. That’s where she ought to have +been all these years.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, sitting upon the small of his +back, with one leg wrapped casually +about the leg of the chair, stared at him +for a moment in consternation, then, +gathering himself together, rose and for +the first time since we have met him +seemed completely to fill his checked +ready-made suit.</p> + +<p>“Send Kippy to a lunatic asylum!” he +said in tones so indignant that they made +his chin tremble. “You will do nothing +whatever of the kind! Why, all she’s +ever had in the world was her pa and +Aunt Tish and her home; now he’s gone, +you ain’t wanting to take the others +away from her too, are you?”</p> + +<p><a name="png.039" id="png.039"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">34</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Well, who is going to take care of +her?” demanded Ben angrily.</p> + +<p>“I am,” announced D. Webster, striking +as fine an attitude as ever his illustrious +predecessor struck; “you take the +money that’s in the bank, and leave me +the house and Kippy. That’ll be her +share and mine. I can take care of her; +I don’t ask favors of nobody. Suppose +I do lose my job; I’ll get me another. +There’s a dozen ways I can make a living. +There ain’t a man in the State +that’s got more resources than me. I +got plans laid now that’ll revolutionize—”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Ben, quietly, “you always +could do great things.”</p> + +<p>D. Webster’s egotism, inflated to the +utmost, burst at this prick, and he suddenly +collapsed. Dropping limply into +the chair by the table, he held his hand +over his mouth to hide his agitation.</p> + +<p>“There’s—there’s one thing,” he began, +swallowing violently, and winking +after each word, “that I—I can’t +<a name="png.040" id="png.040"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">35</span><span class="ns">] + </span>do—and that’s to leave a—sister—to die—among +strangers.”</p> + +<p>And then, to his mortification, his +head went unexpectedly down upon his +arms, and a flood of tears bedimmed the +radiance of his twenty-five-cent four-in-hand.</p> + +<p>From far down the river came the +whistle of the boat, and, in the room below, +Jimmy Fallows removed a reluctant +ear from the stove-pipe hole.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">“Melindy,” he said confidentially, entirely +forgetting the late frost, “I never +see anybody in the world that stood as +good a show of gittin’ the fool prize as +that there D. Opp.”</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.041" id="png.041"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">36</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>IV</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/t-initial.png" + alt="T" title="T" width="149" height="150" /><span>he</span> old Opp House stood +high on the river-bank +and gazed lonesomely out +into the summer night. +It was a shabby, down-at-heel, +dejected-looking +place, with one side showing faint lights, +above and below, but the other side so +nailed up and empty and useless that it +gave the place the appearance of being +paralyzed down one side and of having +scarcely enough vitality left to sustain +life in the other.</p> + +<p>To make matters worse, an old hound +howled dismally on the door-step, only +stopping occasionally to paw at the iron +latch and to whimper for the master +whose unsteady footsteps he had followed +for thirteen years.</p> + +<p>In the front room a shaded lamp, +<a name="png.042" id="png.042"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">37</span><span class="ns">] + </span>turned low, threw a circle of light on the +table and floor, leaving the corners full +of vague, uncertain shadows. From the +wide, black fireplace a pair of rusty and +battered andirons held out empty arms, +and on the high stone shelf above the +opening, flanked on each side by a stuffed +owl, was a tall, square-faced clock, with +the hour-hand missing. The minute-hand +still went on its useless round, and +behind it, on the face of the clock, a tiny +schooner with all sail set rocked with the +swinging of the pendulum.</p> + +<p>The loud ticking of the clock, and the +lamentations of the hound without, were +not the only sounds that disturbed the +night. Before the empty fireplace, in a +high-backed, cane-bottomed chair, slept +an old negress, with head bowed, moaning +and muttering as she slept. She was +bent and ashen with age, and her brown +skin sagged in long wrinkles from her +face and hands. On her forehead, reaching +from brow to faded turban, was a +hideous testimony to some ancient conflict. +A large, irregular hole, over which +<a name="png.043" id="png.043"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">38</span><span class="ns">] + </span>the flesh had grown, pulsed as sentiently +and imperatively as a naked, living +heart.</p> + +<p>A shutter slammed sharply somewhere +in the house above, and something stirred +fearfully in the shadow of the room. It +was a small figure that crouched against +the wall, listening and watching with the +furtive terror of a newly captured coyote—the +slight figure of a woman dressed +as a child, with short gingham dress, and +heelless slippers, and a bright ribbon +holding back the limp, flaxen hair from +her strange, pinched face.</p> + +<p>Again and again her wide, frightened +eyes sought the steps leading to the room +above, and sometimes she would lean +forward and whisper in agonized expectancy, +“Daddy?” Then when no answer +came, she would shudder back +against the wall, cold and shaking and +full of dumb terrors.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the hound’s howling changed +to a sharp bark, and the old negress +stirred and stretched herself.</p> + +<p>“What ails dat air dog?” she +<a name="png.044" id="png.044"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">39</span><span class="ns">] + </span>mumbled, going to the window, and shading +her eyes with her hand. “You’d ’low +to hear him tell it he done heared old +master coming up de road.”</p> + +<p>That somebody was coming was evident +from the continued excitement of +the hound, and when the gate slammed +and a man’s voice sounded in the darkness, +Aunt Tish opened the door, throwing +a long, dim patch of light out across +the narrow porch and over the big, round +stepping-stones beyond.</p> + +<p>Into the light came Mr. Opp, staggering +under the load of his baggage, his +coat over his arm, his collar off, thoroughly +spent with the events of the day.</p> + +<p>“Lord ’a’ mercy!” said Aunt Tish, +“if hit ain’t Mr. D.! I done give you up +long ago. I certainly is glad you come. +Miss Kippy’s jes carrying on like ever’thing. +She ain’t been to baid for two +nights, an’ I can’t do nothin’ ’t all wif +her.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp deposited his things in a corner, +and, tired as he was, assumed an air +of authority. It was evident that a man +<a name="png.045" id="png.045"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">40</span><span class="ns">] + </span>was needed, a person of firmness, of decision.</p> + +<p>“I’ll see that she goes to bed at once,” +he said resolutely. “Where is she at?”</p> + +<p>“She’s behind de door,” said Aunt +Tish; “she’s be’n so skeered ever sence +her paw died I can’t do nothin’ wif her.”</p> + +<p>“Kippy,” said Mr. Opp, sternly, +“come out here this minute.”</p> + +<p>But there was no response. Going to +the corner where his coat lay, he took +from the pocket a brown-paper parcel.</p> + +<p>“Say, Kippy,” he said in a greatly +mollified tone, “I wish you would come +on out here and see me. You remember +brother D., don’t you? You ought to see +what I brought you all the way from the +city. It’s got blue eyes.”</p> + +<p>At this the small, grotesque figure, distrustful, +suspicious, ready to take flight +at a word, ventured slowly forth. So +slight she was, and so frail, and so softly +she moved, it was almost as if the wind +blew her toward him. Every thought +that came into her brain was instantly +reflected in her hypersensitive face, and +<a name="png.046" id="png.046"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">41</span><span class="ns">] + </span>as she stood before him nervously plucking +her fingers, fear and joy struggled +for supremacy. Suddenly with a low cry +she snatched the doll from him and +clasped it to her heart.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Aunt Tish had spread a +cloth on the table and set forth some cold +corn dodger, a pitcher of foaming butter-milk, +and a plate of cold corned beef. +The milk was in a battered pewter +pitcher, but the dish that held the corn +bread was of heavy silver, with intricate +chasings about the rim.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, with his head propped on his +hand, ate wearily. He had been up since +four o’clock that morning, and to-morrow +he must be up at daybreak if he was +to keep his engagements to supply the +dealers with the greatest line of shoes +ever put upon the market. Between now +and then he must decide many things: +Kippy must be planned for, the house +gone over, and arrangements made for +the future. Being behind the scenes, as +it were, and having no spectator to impress, +he allowed himself to sink into an +<a name="png.047" id="png.047"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">42</span><span class="ns">] + </span>attitude of extreme dejection. And Mr. +Opp, shorn of the dignity of his heavily +padded coat, and his imposing collar and +tie, and with even his pompadour limp +upon his forehead, failed entirely to give +a good imitation of himself.</p> + +<p>As he sat thus, with one hand hanging +limply over the back of the chair, he felt +something touch it softly, dumbly, as a +dog might. Looking down, he discovered +Miss Kippy sitting on the floor, +close behind him, watching him with +furtive eyes. In one arm she cradled the +new doll, and in the other she held his +coat.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp patted her cheek: “Whatever +are you doing with my coat?” he asked.</p> + +<p>Miss Kippy held it behind her, and +nodded her head wisely: “Keeping it so +you can’t go away,” she whispered. +“I’ll hold it tight all night. To-morrow +I’ll hide it.”</p> + +<p>“But I’m a business man,” said Mr. +Opp, unconsciously straightening his +shoulders. “A great deal of responsibility +depends on me. I’ve got to be off +<a name="png.048" id="png.048"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">43</span><span class="ns">] + </span>early in the morning; but I’m coming +back to see you real often—every now +and then.”</p> + +<p>Miss Kippy’s whole attitude changed. +She caught his hand and clung to it, and +the terror came back to her eyes.</p> + +<p>“You mustn’t go,” she whispered, +her body quivering with excitement. +“It’ll get me if you do. Daddy kept It +away, and you can keep It away; but +Aunt Tish can’t: she’s afraid of It, too! +She goes to sleep, and then It reaches at +me through the window. It comes down +the chimney, there—where you see the +brick’s loose. Don’t leave me, D. +Hush, don’t you hear It?”</p> + +<p>Her voice had risen to hysteria, and +she clung to him, cold and shaken by the +fear that possessed her.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp put a quieting arm about +her. “Why, see here, Kippy,” he said, +“didn’t you know It was afraid of me? +Look how strong I am! I could kill It +with my little finger.”</p> + +<p>“Could you?” asked Miss Kippy, +fearfully.</p> + +<p><a name="png.049" id="png.049"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">44</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Yes, indeed,” said Mr. Opp. +“Don’t you ever be scared of anything +whatsoever when Brother D.’s round. +I’m going to take care of you from now +on.”</p> + +<p>“This me is bad,” announced Miss +Kippy; “the other me is good. Her +name is Oxety; she has one blue eye and +one brown.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Oxety must go to bed now,” +said Mr. Opp; “it must be getting awful +late.”</p> + +<p>But Miss Kippy shook her head. +“You might go ’way,” she said.</p> + +<p>Finding that he could not persuade +her, Mr. Opp resorted to strategy: “I’ll +tell you what let’s me and you do. +Let’s put your slippers on your hands.”</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">This proposition met with instant approval. +It appealed to Miss Kippy as a +brilliant suggestion. She assisted in unbuttoning +the single straps and watched +with glee as they were fastened about +her wrists.</p> + +<p class="illus pgbrk"><a name="png.050" id="png.050"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">45</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img src="images/illus050.jpg" width="450" height="710" + alt="" title="" /><br + />“‘Don’t leave me’”</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Mr. Opp, with assumed +enthusiasm, “we’ll make the slippers +<a name="png.052" id="png.052"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">47</span><span class="ns">] + </span>walk you up-stairs, and after Aunt Tish +undresses you, they shall walk you to +bed. Won’t that be fun?”</p> + +<p>Miss Kippy’s fancy was so tickled by +this suggestion that she put it into practice +at once, and went gaily forth up the +steps on all fours. At the turn she +stopped, and looked at him wistfully:</p> + +<p>“You’ll come up before I go to +sleep?” she begged; “Daddy did.”</p> + +<p>Half an hour later Aunt Tish came +down the narrow stairway: “She done +gone to baid now, laughin’ an’ happy +ag’in,” she said; “she never did have +dem spells when her paw was round, an’ +sometimes dat chile jes as clear in her +mind as you an’ me is.”</p> + +<p>“What is it she’s afraid of?” asked +Mr. Opp.</p> + +<p>Aunt Tish leaned toward him across +the table, and the light of the lamp fell +full upon her black, bead-like eyes, and +her sunken jaws, and on the great palpitating +scar.</p> + +<p>“De ghosties,” she whispered; “dey +been worriting dat chile ever’ chance dey +<a name="png.053" id="png.053"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">48</span><span class="ns">] + </span>git. <em>I</em> hear ’em! Dey wait till I take a +nap of sleep, den dey comes sneakin’ in +to pester her. She says dey ain’t but +one, but I hears heaps ob ’em, some ob +’em so little dey kin climb onder de crack +in de door.”</p> + +<p>“Look a-here, Aunt Tish,” said Mr. +Opp, sternly, “don’t you ever talk a +word of this foolishness to her again. +Not one word, do you hear?”</p> + +<p>“Yas, sir; dat’s what Mr. Moore allays +said, an’ I <em>don’t</em> talk to her ’bout +hit, I don’t haf to. She done knows I +know. I been livin’ heah goin’ on forty +years, sence ’fore you was borned, an’ +you can’t fool me, chile; no, sir, dat you +can’t.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you must go to bed now,” said +Mr. Opp, looking up at the clock and +seeing that it was half-past something +though he did not know what.</p> + +<p>“I never goes to baid when I stays +here,” announced Aunt Tish; “I sets up +in de kitchen an’ sleeps. I’s skeered dat +chile run away; she ’low she gwine to +some day. Her paw ketched her oncet +<a name="png.054" id="png.054"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">49</span><span class="ns">] + </span>gittin’ in a boat down on de river-bank. +She ain’t gwine, while I’s here, no +sir-ee! I never leaves her in de daytime +an’ her paw never leaves her at night, +dat is, when he’s livin’.”</p> + +<p>After she had gone, Mr. Opp ascended +the stairway, and entered the room +above. A candle sputtered on the table, +and in its light he saw the wide, four-poster +bed that had been his mother’s, +and in it the frail figure of little Miss +Kippy. Her hair lay loose upon the pillow, +and on her sleeping face, appealing +in its helplessness, was a smile of perfect +peace. The new doll lay on the table +beside the candle, but clasped tightly in +her arms was the coat of many checks.</p> + +<p>For a moment Mr. Opp stood watching +her, then he drew his shirt-sleeve +quickly across his eyes. As he turned to +descend, his new shoes creaked painfully +and, after he had carefully removed +them, he tiptoed down, passed through +the sitting-room and out upon the porch, +where he sank down on the step and +dropped his head on his arms.</p> + +<p><a name="png.055" id="png.055"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">50</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The night was very still, save for the +croaking of a bullfrog, and the incessant +scraping of a cedar-tree against the corner +of the roof. From across the river, +faint sparks of light shone out from +cabin windows, and, below, a moving +light now and then told of a passing +scow. Once a steamboat slipped weirdly +out of the darkness, sparkling with +lights, and sending up faint sounds of +music; but before the waves from the +wheel had ceased to splash on the bank +below, she was swallowed up in the darkness, +leaving lonesomeness again.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp sat staring out into the night, +outwardly calm, but inwardly engaged in +a mortal duel. The aggressive Mr. Opp +of the gorgeous raiment and the seal +ring, the important man of business, the +ambitious financier, was in deadly combat +with the insignificant Mr. Opp, he of +the shirt-sleeves and the wilted pompadour, +the delicate, sensitive, futile Mr. +Opp who was incapable of everything +but the laying down of his life for the +sake of another.</p> + +<p><a name="png.056" id="png.056"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">51</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>A dull line of light hovered on the +horizon, and gradually the woods on the +opposite shore took shape, then the big +river itself, gray and shimmering, with +streaks on the water where a snag broke +the swift current.</p> + +<p>“Mr. D.,” he heard Aunt Tish calling +up the back stairs, “you better git out of +baid; hit’s sun-up.”</p> + +<p>He rose stiffly and started back to the +kitchen. As he passed through the front +room, his eyes fell upon his new suit-case +full of the treasured drummers’ +samples. Stooping down, he traced the +large black letters with his finger and +sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>Then he got up resolutely and +marched to the kitchen door.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">“Aunt Tish,” he said with authority, +“you needn’t mind about hurrying +breakfast. I find there’s very important +business will keep me here in the Cove +for the present.”</p> + + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.057" id="png.057"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">52</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>V</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/t-initial.png" + alt="T" title="T" width="149" height="150" /><span>here</span> were two methods of +communication in Cove +City, both of which were +equally effective. One +was the telephone, which +from a single, isolated +case had developed into an epidemic, and +the other, which enjoyed the dignity of +precedence and established custom, was +to tell Jimmy Fallows.</p> + +<p>Both of these currents of information +soon overflowed with the news that Mr. +D. Webster Opp had given up a good +position in the city, and expected to establish +himself in business in his native +town. The nature of this business was +agitating the community at large in only +a degree less than it was agitating Mr. +Opp himself.</p> + +<p>One afternoon Jimmy Fallows stood +<a name="png.058" id="png.058"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">53</span><span class="ns">] + </span>with his back to his front gate, suspended +by his armpits from the pickets, +and conducted business after his usual +fashion. As a general retires to a hill-top +to organize his forces and issue +orders to his subordinates, so Jimmy +hung upon his front fence and conducted +the affairs of the town. He knew what +time each farmer came in, where the +“Helping Hands” were going to sew, +where the doctor was, and where the services +would be held next Sunday. He +was coroner, wharf-master, undertaker, +and notary, and the only thing in the +heavens above or the earth below concerning +which he did not attempt to give +information was the arrival of the next +steamboat.</p> + +<p>As he stood whittling a stick and +cheerfully humming a tune of other +days, he descried a small, alert figure +coming up the road. The pace was so +much brisker than the ordinary slow gait +of the Cove that he recognized the person +at once as Mr. Opp. Whereupon he +lifted his voice and hailed a boy who was +<a name="png.059" id="png.059"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">54</span><span class="ns">] + </span>just vanishing down the street in the +opposite direction:</p> + +<p>“Nick!” he called. “Aw, Nick Fenny! +Tell Mat Lucas that Mr. Opp’s uptown.”</p> + +<p>Connection being thus made at one +end of the line, he turned to effect it at +the other. “Howdy, Brother Opp. +Kinder dusty on the river, ain’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Well, we <em>are</em> experiencing considerable +of warm weather at this juncture,” +said Mr. Opp, affably.</p> + +<p>“Mat Lucas has been hanging round +here all day,” said Jimmy. “He wants +you to buy out a half-interest in his dry-goods +store. What do you think about +it?”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Opp, thrusting his +thumbs into the armholes of his waistcoat, +“I am considering of a great +variety of different things. I been in +the dry-goods business twice, and I can’t +say but what it ain’t a pretty business. +Of course,” he added with a twinge, “my +specialty are shoes.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Jimmy; “but the folks +<a name="png.060" id="png.060"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">55</span><span class="ns">] + </span>here all gets their shoes at the drug +store. Mr. Toddlinger’s been carrying +a line of shoes along with his pills and +plasters ever sence he went into business.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp looked up at the large sign +overhead. “If you and Mr. Tucker +wasn’t both in the hotel business, I +might be thinking of considering that.”</p> + +<p>This proposition tickled Jimmy immensely. +Chuckles of amusement agitated +his rotund figure.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you buy us both out?” he +asked. “We could sell out for nothing +and make money.”</p> + +<p>“Why, there’s three boarders sitting +over at Our Hotel now,” said Mr. Opp, +who rather fancied himself in the rôle of +a genial host.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Jimmy. “Old man +Tucker’s had ’em hanging out on the +line all morning. I don’t guess they got +strength enough to walk around much +after the meals he give ’em.”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” said Mr. Opp, wholly +absorbed in his own affairs, “this is just +<a name="png.061" id="png.061"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">56</span><span class="ns">] + </span>temporarily for the time being, as it +were. In a year or so, when my financial +condition is sorter more established in a +way, I intend to put through that oil-wells +proposition. The fact that I am +aiming at arriving to is what would you +think the Cove was at present most in +need of?”</p> + +<p>“Elbow-grease,” said Jimmy, +promptly. “The only two things that +we ain’t got that a city has, is elbow-grease +and a newspaper.”</p> + +<p>For a moment there was a silence, +heavy with significance. Mr. Fallows’s +gaze penetrated the earth, while Mr. +Opp’s scanned the heavens; then they +suddenly looked at each other, and the +great idea was born.</p> + +<p>An editor! Mr. Opp’s whole being +thrilled responsive to the call. The +thought of dwelling above the sordid +bartering of commercial life, of being in +a position to exercise those mental +powers with which he felt himself so +generously endowed, almost swept him +off his feet. He had been a reporter +<a name="png.062" id="png.062"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">57</span><span class="ns">] + </span>once; for two golden weeks he had +handed in police-court reports that fairly +scintillated with verbal gems plucked at +random from the dictionary. But the +city editor had indicated as kindly as +possible that his services were no longer +required, vaguely suggesting that it was +necessary to reduce the force; and Mr. +Opp had assured him that he understood +perfectly, and that he was ready to return +at any future time. That apprenticeship, +brief though it was, served as a +foundation upon which Mr. Opp erected +a tower of dazzling possibilities.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with you takin’ +Mr. Gusty’s old printin’-shop and +startin’ up business for yourself?” +asked Jimmy.</p> + +<p>“Do you reckon she’d sell it?” asked +Mr. Opp, anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Sell it?” said Jimmy. “Why, she’s +’most ready to give it away to keep from +having to pay Pete Aker’s rent for the +shop. Say—Mr. Gall—up,” he called +up the street to a man who was turning +the corner, “is Mrs. Gusty at home?”</p> + +<p><a name="png.063" id="png.063"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">58</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The man, thus accosted, turned and +came toward them.</p> + +<p>“Who is Mr. Gallop?” asked Mr. +Opp.</p> + +<p>“He’s the new telephone girl,” said +Jimmy, with relish; “ain’t been here but +a month, and he’s doing the largest and +most profitable trade in tending to other +folks’s business you ever seen. Soft! +Why, he must ’a’ been raised on a pillow—He +always puts me in mind of a +highly educated pig: it sorter surprises +and tickles you to see him walkin’ round +on his hind legs and talking like other +people. Other day one of the boys, just +to devil him, ast him to drive his team +out home. I liked to ’a’ died when I +seen him tryin’ to turn the corner, pullin’ +‘Gee’ and hollerin’ ‘Haw’ with every +breath. Old mules got their legs in a +hard knot trying to do both at once, and +the boys says when Gallop got out in the +country he felt so bad about it he got +down and ’pologized to the mules. How +’bout that, Gallop—did you!” he concluded +as the subject of the conversation +arrived upon the scene.</p> + +<p><a name="png.064" id="png.064"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">59</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The new-comer, a plump, fair young +man, who held one hand clasped affectionately +in the other, blushed indignantly, +but said nothing.</p> + +<p>“This here is Mr. Opp,” went on +Jimmy; “he wants to see Mrs. Gusty. +Do you know whether he will ketch her +at home or not?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gallop was by this time paying +the tribute of many an admiring glance +to every detail of Mr. Opp’s costume, +and Mr. Opp, realizing this, assumed an +air of cosmopolitan nonchalance, and +toyed indifferently with his large watch-fob.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Gallop’s admiration and +attention had become focused upon Mr. +Opp’s ring, he suddenly turned on the +faucet of his conversation, and allowed +such a stream of general information to +pour forth that Mr. Opp quite forgot to +look imposing.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Gusty telephoned early this +morning to Mrs. Dorsey that she would +come over and help her make preserves. +Mrs. Dorsey got a big load of peaches +from her father across the river. He’s +<a name="png.065" id="png.065"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">60</span><span class="ns">] + </span>been down with the asthma, and had to +call up the doctor twice in the night. +And the doctor couldn’t get the right +medicine in town, and had me call up the +city. They are going to send it down on +the <i>Big Sandy</i>, but she’s stuck in the +locks, and goodness knows when she’ll +get here. She’s—”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me,” interrupted Mr. Opp, +politely but firmly, “I’ve got to see Mrs. +Gusty on very important business. +Have you any idea whatsoever of when +she will return back home?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Gallop, eager to +oblige. “She’s about home by this time. +Miss Lou Diker is making her a dress, +and she telephoned she’d be by to try it +on ’bout four o’clock. I’ll go up there +with you, if you want me to.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you drive him!” suggested +Jimmy. “You can borrow a pair +of mules acrost the street.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Opp,” said Mr. Gallop, feelingly, +as they walked up Main Street, +“I wouldn’t treat a’ insect like he treats +me.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.066" id="png.066"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">61</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Oh, you mustn’t mind Jimmy,” said +Mr. Opp, kindly; “he always sort of enjoys +a little joke as he goes along. Why, +I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he even +made a joke on me sometime. How long +have you been in Cove City?”</p> + +<p>“Just a month,” said Mr. Gallop. “It +must look awful little to you, after all +the big cities you been used to.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp lengthened his stride. “Yes,” +he said largely; “quite small, quite little, +in fact. No place for a business man; +but for a professional man, a man that +requires leisure to sort of cultivate his +brain and that means to be a influence +in the community, it’s a good place, a +remarkably good place.”</p> + +<p>A hint, however vague, dropped into +the mind of Mr. Gallop, caused instant +fermentation. From long experience he +had become an adept at extracting information +from all who crossed his path. +A preliminary interest, a breath or two +of flattery by way of anesthetic, and his +victim’s secret was out before he knew it.</p> + +<p>“Reckon you are going up to talk +<a name="png.067" id="png.067"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">62</span><span class="ns">] + </span>insurance to Mrs. Gusty,” he ventured +tentatively.</p> + +<p>“No; oh, no,” said Mr. Opp. “I formerly +was in the insurance business, +some time back. Very little prospects +in it for a man of my nature. I have to +have a chance to sorter spread out, you +know—to use my own particular ideas +about working things out.”</p> + +<p>“What is your especial line?” asked +Mr. Gallop, deferentially.</p> + +<p>“Shoe—” Mr. Opp began involuntarily, +then checked himself—“journalism,” +he said, and the word seemed for +the moment completely to fill space.</p> + +<p>At Mrs. Gusty’s gate Mr. Gallop +stopped.</p> + +<p>“I guess I ought to go back now,” he +said regretfully; “the telephone and +telegraph office is right there in my +room, and I never leave them day or +night except just this one hour in the +afternoon. It’s awful trying. The +farmers begin calling each other up at +three o’clock in the morning. Say, I +wish you’d step in sometime. I’d just +<a name="png.068" id="png.068"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">63</span><span class="ns">] + </span>love to have you. But you are so busy +and got so many friends, you won’t have +much time for me, I guess.”</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">Mr. Opp thought otherwise. He said +that no matter how pressed he was by +various important duties, he was never +too busy to see a friend. And he said it +with the air of one who confers a favor, +and Mr. Gallop received it as one who +receives a favor, and they shook hands +warmly and parted.</p> + + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.069" id="png.069"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">64</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>VI</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/m-initial.png" + alt="M" title="M" width="155" height="150" /><span>r. Opp</span>, absorbed in the +great scheme which was +taking definite form in +his mind, did not discover +until he reached +the steps that some one +was lying in a hammock on the porch.</p> + +<p>It was a dark-haired girl in a pink +dress, with a pink bow in her hair and +small bows on the toes of her high-heeled +slippers—the very kind of person, in +fact, that Mr. Opp was most desirous of +avoiding.</p> + +<p>Fortunately she was asleep, and Mr. +Opp, after listening in vain at the door +for sounds of Mrs. Gusty within, tiptoed +cautiously to the other end of the +porch and took his seat on a straight-backed +settee.</p> + +<p>Let it not for a moment be supposed +<a name="png.070" id="png.070"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">65</span><span class="ns">] + </span>that Mr. Opp was a stranger to the fascinations +of femininity. He had been +inoculated at a tender age, and it had +taken so completely, so tragically, that +he had crept back to life with one illusion +sadly shattered, and the conviction +firm within him that henceforth he was +immune. His attitude toward the subject +remained, however, interested, but +cautious—such as a good little boy might +entertain toward a loaded pistol.</p> + +<p>As he sat very straight and very still +on the green settee, he tried to compose +his mind for the coming interview with +Mrs. Gusty. Directly across the road +was Aker’s old carpenter-shop, a small, +square, one-story edifice, shabby, and +holding out scant promise of journalistic +possibilities. Mr. Opp, however, seldom +saw things as they were; he saw them as +they were going to be. Before five minutes +had elapsed he had the shop painted +white, with trimmings of red, new panes +in the windows, ground glass below and +clear above, an imposing sign over the +door, and the roadway blocked with +<a name="png.071" id="png.071"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">66</span><span class="ns">] + </span>eager subscribers. He would have to +have an assistant, of course, some one to +attend to the general details; but he +would have charge of everything himself. +He would edit a paper, comprehensive +in its scope, and liberal in its views. +Science, art, religion, society, and politics +would all be duly chronicled. Politics! +Why, his paper would be an organ—an +organ of the Democratic Party!</p> + +<p>At the thought of being an organ, Mr. +Opp’s bosom swelled with such pride +that his settee creaked, and he glanced +apprehensively toward the other end of +the porch.</p> + +<p>The young lady was still asleep, with +her head resting on her bare arm, and +one foot hanging limply below her ruffled +petticoat.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Mr. Opp leaned forward and +viewed her slipper with interest. He +had recognized the make! It was xxx-aa. +He had carried a sample exactly like it, +and had been wont to call enthusiastic +attention to the curve of the instep and +the set of the heel. He now realized that +<a name="png.072" id="png.072"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">67</span><span class="ns">] + </span>the effect depended entirely on the bow, +and he seriously considered writing to +the firm and suggesting the improvement.</p> + +<p>In the midst of his reflections the +young lady stirred and then sat up. Her +hair was tumbled, and her eyes indicated +that she had been indulging in recent +tears. Resting her chin on her palms, +she gazed gloomily down the road.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, at the other end of the +porch, also gazed gloomily down the +road. The fact that he must make his +presence known was annihilated by the +yet more urgent fact that he could think +of nothing to say. A bumblebee wheeled +in narrowing circles above his head and +finally lighted upon his coat-sleeve. But +Mr. Opp remained immovable. He +was searching his vocabulary for a word +which would gently crack the silence +without shattering it to bits.</p> + +<p>The bumblebee saved the situation. +Detecting some rare viand in a crack of +the porch midway between the settee and +the hammock, and evidently being a +<a name="png.073" id="png.073"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">68</span><span class="ns">] + </span>bibulous bee, it set up such a buzz of excitement +that Mr. Opp looked at it, and the +young lady looked at it, and their eyes +met.</p> + +<p>“Excuse me,” said Mr. Opp, rather +breathlessly; “you was asleep, and I +come to see Mrs. Gusty, and—er—the +fact is—I’m Mr. Opp.”</p> + +<p>At this announcement the young lady +put her hand to her head, and by a dexterous +movement rearranged the brown +halo of her hair, and twisted the pink +bow into its proper, aggressive position.</p> + +<p>“Mother’ll—be back soon,”—she +spoke without embarrassment, yet with +the hesitation of one who is not in the +habit of speaking for herself,—“I—I—didn’t +know I was going to sleep.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Mr. Opp; then added politely, +“neither did I.” Silence again +looming on the horizon, he plunged on: +“I think I used to be in the habit of seeing +you when you was—er—younger, +didn’t I?”</p> + +<p>“Up at the store.” She smiled faintly. +“You bought me a bag of pop-corn once +<a name="png.074" id="png.074"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">69</span><span class="ns">] + </span>with a prize in it. It was a breastpin; +I’ve got it yet.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp scowled slightly as he tried +to extract an imaginary splinter from his +thumb. “Do you—er—attend school?” +he asked, taking refuge in a paternal +attitude.</p> + +<p>“I’m finished,” she said listlessly. +“I’ve been going to the Young Ladies’ +Seminary at Coreyville.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you taken to it?” asked Mr. +Opp, wishing fervently that Mrs. Gusty +would return.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” said his companion, earnestly. +“I love it; I was a special. I +took music and botany and painting. I +was in four concerts last year and played +in the double duets at the commencements.” +During the pause that followed, +Mr. Opp considered various +names for his newspaper. “Mother +isn’t going to let me go back,” the soft, +drawling voice continued; “she says +when a girl is nineteen she ought to settle +down. She wants me to get married.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp laid “The Cove Chronicle” +<a name="png.075" id="png.075"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">70</span><span class="ns">] + </span>and “The Weekly Bugle” aside for further +consideration, and inquired politely +if there was any special person whom +Mrs. Gusty desired for a son-in-law.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” said the girl, indifferently; +“she hasn’t thought of anybody. But I +don’t want to get married—yet. I want +to go back to the seminary and be a +music teacher. I hate it here, every bit +of it. It’s so stupid—and lonesome, +and—”</p> + +<p>A break in her voice caused Mr. Opp +to postpone a decision of the day on +which his paper was to be published, and +to give her his undivided attention. +Distress, even in beauty, was not to be +withstood, and the fact that she was unusually +pretty had been annoying Mr. +Opp ever since she had spoken to him. +As she turned her head away and wiped +her eyes, he rose impulsively and moved +toward her:</p> + +<p>“Say, look a-here now, you ain’t crying, +are you?” he asked.</p> + +<p>She shook her head in indignant denial.</p> + +<p>“Well—er—you don’t seem exactly +<a name="png.076" id="png.076"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">71</span><span class="ns">] + </span>happy, as you might say,” suggested +Mr. Opp, boldly.</p> + +<p>“I’m not,” she confessed, biting her +lip. “I oughtn’t to talk to you about it, +but there isn’t anybody here that would +understand. They think I’m stuck up +when I talk about books and music and—and +other kind of people. They just +keep on doing the same stupid things till +they get old and die. Only mother won’t +even let me do stupid things; she says I +bother her when I try to help around the +house.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t you sew or make mottoes or +something?” asked Mr. Opp, very vague +as to feminine accomplishments.</p> + +<p>“What’s the use?” asked the girl. +“Mother does everything for me. She +always says she’d rather do it than +teach me how.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you take to reading?” asked +Mr. Opp.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” she said; “I used to read +all the time down at school; but there +never is anything to read up here.”</p> + +<p>The editor-elect peopled the country +<a name="png.077" id="png.077"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">72</span><span class="ns">] + </span>with similar cases, and he immediately +saw himself as a public benefactor supplying +starved subscribers with a bountiful +repast of weekly news.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you sit down?” asked the girl, +interrupting his reflections. “I don’t +know what can be keeping mother.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp looked about for a chair, but +there was none. Then he glanced at his +companion, and saw that she was holding +aside her pink skirt and evidently offering +him a seat beside her in the hammock. +He advanced a step, retreated, +then weakly capitulated. Sitting very +rigid, nursing his hat on his knees, and +inserting his forefinger between his neck +and his collar as if to breathe better, he +remarked that it was getting warmer all +the time.</p> + +<p>“This isn’t anything to what it will +be later,” said the girl; “it keeps on getting +hotter and dustier all the time. I +don’t believe there’s such a stupid, +poky, little old place anywhere else in +the world. You ought to be mighty glad +you don’t live here.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.078" id="png.078"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">73</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Mr. Opp cleared his throat with some +dignity. “I expect to remain here permanent +now. I—well—the truth is, I +have decided to operate a newspaper +here.”</p> + +<p>“No!” cried the girl, incredulously. +“Not in the Cove!”</p> + +<p>“In the Cove,” repeated Mr. Opp, +firmly. “There’s great need here for a +live, enterprising newspaper. It’s a +virgin field, you might say. There never +was a place that needed a public voice +more. My paper is going to be a voice +that hears all sides of a question; it’s +going to appeal to the aged and the +young and all them that lies between.”</p> + +<p>“It will be mighty grand for us!” said +his companion, with interest. “When is +it going to start?”</p> + +<p>Definite plans being decidedly nebulous, +Mr. Opp wisely confined himself to +generalities. He touched casually on his +remarkable fitness for the work, his wide +experience, his worldly knowledge. He +hinted that in time he expected to venture +into even deeper literary waters—poetry, +<a name="png.079" id="png.079"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">74</span><span class="ns">] + </span>and a novel, perhaps. As he +talked, he realized that for the second +time that day he was looked upon with +approval. Being accepted at his own +estimate proved a new and exhilarating +sensation.</p> + +<p>It was pleasant on the wide porch, +with the honeysuckle shutting out the +sun, and the long, yellow blossoms filling +the air with fragrance. It was pleasant +to hear the contented chuckle of the hens +and the sleepy hum of the bees, and the +sound of his own voice; but most of all +it was pleasant, albeit disconcerting, to +glance sidewise occasionally and find a +pair of credulous brown eyes raised to +his in frank admiration. What if the +swing of the hammock was making him +dizzy and one foot had gone to sleep? +These were minor considerations unworthy +of mention.</p> + +<p>“And just to think,” the girl was saying, +“that you may be right across the +road! I won’t mind staying at home so +much if you’ll let me come over and see +you make the newspaper.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.080" id="png.080"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">75</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“You might like to assist sometime,” +said Mr. Opp, magnanimously, at the +same time cautiously removing a fluttering +pink ribbon from his knee. “I could +let you try your hand on a wedding or a +’bituary, or something along that line.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, really?” she cried, her eyes +brightening. “I’d just love to. I can +write compositions real nice, and you +could help me a little.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” agreed Mr. Opp; “I could +learn you to do the first draft, and I +could put on the extra touches.”</p> + +<p>So engrossed did they become in these +plans that they did not hear the click of +the gate, or see the small, aggressive +lady who came up the walk. She moved +with the confident air of one who is in +the habit of being obeyed. Her skirt +gave the appearance of no more daring +to hang wrong than her bonnet-strings +would have presumed to move from the +exact spot where she had tied them under +her left ear. Her small, bright eyes, +slightly crossed, apparently saw two +ways at once, for on her brief journey +<a name="png.081" id="png.081"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">76</span><span class="ns">] + </span>from the gate to the porch, she decapitated +two withered geraniums on the +right, and picked up a stray paper and +some dead leaves on the left.</p> + +<p>“Guin-never!” she called sharply, not +seeing the couple on the porch, “who’s +been tracking mud in on my clean +steps?”</p> + +<p>The girl rose hastily and came forward. +“Mother,” she said, “here’s Mr. Opp.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gusty glanced up from one to the +other, evidently undecided how to meet +the situation. But the hesitancy was not +for long; Mr. Opp’s watch-fob, glittering +in the sunlight, symbolized such +prosperity that she hastily extended a +cordial hand of welcome.</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to tell me Guin-never +has been keeping you out here on +the porch instead of taking you in the +parlor? And hasn’t she given you a +thing to drink? Well, just wait till I get +my things off and I’ll fix a pitcher of +lemonade.”</p> + +<p>“Let me do it, Mother,” said Guinevere, +eagerly; “I often do it at school.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.082" id="png.082"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">77</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“I’d hate to drink what you make,” +said Mrs. Gusty, waving her aside. +“You show Mr. Opp in the parlor. No; +I’ll open the shutters: you’d get your +hands dirty.” She bustled about with +that tyrannical capability that reduces +every one near it to a state of helpless +dependence.</p> + +<p>The parlor was cool and dark, and +Mr. Opp felt around for a chair while +the refractory shutter was being opened. +When at last a shaft of light was admitted, +it fell full upon a sable frame +which hung above the horse-hair sofa, +and inclosed a glorified certificate of the +births, marriages, and deaths in the +house of Gusty. Around these written +data was a border realistically depicting +the seven ages of man and culminating +in a legend of gold which read</p> + +<div class="quote"> +<p class="ctr">From the Cradle to the Grave.</p> +</div> + +<p>While Mr. Opp was standing before +this work of art, apparently deeply interested, +he was, in reality, peeping +through a crack in the shutter. The +<a name="png.083" id="png.083"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">78</span><span class="ns">] + </span>sunlight was still filtering through the +honeysuckle vines, making dancing, +white patches on the porch, the bees were +humming about the blossoms, and Miss +Guinevere Gusty was still sitting in the +hammock, her chin in her palms, gazing +down the road.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Gusty returned, she bore +a glass pitcher of lemonade, a plate of +crisp gingersnaps, and a tumbler of +crushed ice, all of which rested upon a +tray which was covered with her strawberry +centerpiece, a mark of distinction +which, unfortunately, was lost upon her +guest.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, being a man of business, +plunged at once into his subject, presenting +the matter so eloquently and using +so much more persuasion than was necessary +that he overshot the mark. Mrs. +Gusty was not without business sagacity +herself, and when Mr. Opp met a possible +objection before it had ever occurred +to her, she promptly made use of the +suggestion.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” said Mr. Opp, as a final +<a name="png.084" id="png.084"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">79</span><span class="ns">] + </span>inducement, “I’d be glad to run in some +of Mr. Gusty’s poetical pieces from time +to time.”</p> + +<p>This direct appeal to her sentiment so +touched Mrs. Gusty that she suggested +they go over to the shop at once and look +it over.</p> + +<p>For a moment after the door of his +future sanctum was thrown open Mr. +Opp was disconcerted. The small, dark +room, cluttered with all manner of trash, +the broken window-panes, the dust, and +the cobwebs, presented a prospect that +was far from encouraging; but after an +examination of the presses, his courage +revived.</p> + +<p>After a great deal of talk on Mr. Opp’s +part, and some shrewd bargaining on +Mrs. Gusty’s, the stupendous transaction +was brought to a close, to the eminent +satisfaction of both parties.</p> + +<p class="tb">It was late that night before Mr. Opp +retired. He sat in the open window of +his bedroom and looked out upon the +river. The cool night air and the quiet +<a name="png.085" id="png.085"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">80</span><span class="ns">] + </span>light of the stars calmed the turmoil +in his brain. Gradually the colossal +schemes and the towering ambitions gave +way to an emotion to which the editor-elect +was by no means a stranger. It +was a little white-faced Fear that lurked +always in a corner of his heart, and could +be kept down only by brave words and +aggressive deeds.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">He sat with his trembling knees +hunched, and his arms awkwardly +clasped about them, an absurd atom in +the great cosmic order; yet the soul that +looked out of his squinting, wistful eyes +held all the potentialities of life, and +embodied the eternal sadness and the +eternal inspiration of human endeavor.</p> + + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.086" id="png.086"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">81</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>VII</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/i-initial.png" + alt="I" title="I" width="160" height="150" /><span>t</span> is no small undertaking +to embark in an untried +ship, upon unknown +waters, in the teeth of +opposing gales. But Mr. +Opp sailed the sea of life +as a valiant mariner should, self-reliant, +independent, asking advice of nobody. +He steered by the guidance of his own +peculiar moral compass, regardless of +the rough waters through which it led +him.</p> + +<p>Having invested the major portion of +his savings in the present venture, it was +necessary to begin operations at once; +but events conspired to prevent him. +Miss Kippy made many demands upon +his time both by day and night; she had +transferred her affection and dependence +from her father to him, and he found +<a name="png.087" id="png.087"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">82</span><span class="ns">] + </span>himself sorely encumbered by this new +responsibility. Moreover, the attitude +of the town toward the innovation of a +newspaper was one of frank skepticism, +and it proved a delicate and arduous task +to create the proper public sentiment. +In addition to these troubles, Mr. Opp +had a yet graver matter to hinder him: +with all his valor and energy he was suffering +qualms of uncertainty as to the +proper method of starting a weekly +journal.</p> + +<p>To be sure, he had achieved a name for +the paper—a name so eminently satisfactory +that he had already had it emblazoned +upon a ream of office paper. “The +Opp Eagle” had sprung full-syllabled +from his teeming brain, and had been accepted +over a hundred competitors.</p> + +<p>But naming the fledgling was an easy +matter compared with getting it out of +the nest; and it was not until the instalment +of his competent staff that Mr. +Opp accomplished the task.</p> + +<p>This important transaction took place +one morning as he sat in his new office +<a name="png.088" id="png.088"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">83</span><span class="ns">] + </span>and struggled with his first editorial. +The bare room, with the press in the center, +served as news-room, press-room, +publication office, and editorial sanctum. +Mr. Opp sat at a new deal table, with one +pen behind his ear, and another in his +hand, and gazed for inspiration at the +brown wrapping-paper with which he +had neatly covered the walls. His mental +gymnastics were interrupted by the +appearance at the door of Miss Jim +Fenton and her brother Nick.</p> + +<p>Miss Jim was an anomaly in the community, +being by theory a spinster, and +by practice a double grass-widow. Capable +and self-supporting, she attracted the +ne’er-do-wells as a magnet attracts needles, +but having been twice induced to +forego her freedom and accept the bonds +of wedlock, she had twice escaped and +reverted to her original type and name. +Miss Jim was evidently a victim of one +of Nature’s most economical moods; she +was spare and angular, with a long, +wrinkled face surmounted by a scant +fluff of pale, frizzled hair. Her mouth +<a name="png.089" id="png.089"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">84</span><span class="ns">] + </span>slanted upward at one corner, giving her +an expression unjustly attributed to +coquetry, when in reality it was due to +an innocent and pardonable pride in an +all-gold eye-tooth.</p> + +<p>But it was her clothes that brought +misunderstanding, misfortune, and even +matrimony upon Miss Jim. They were +sent her by the boxful by a cousin in the +city, and the fact was unmistakable that +they were clothes with a past. The +dresses held an atmosphere of evaporated +frivolity; flirtations lingered in every +frill, and memories of old larks lurked in +every furbelow. The hats had a jaunty +list to port, and the colored slippers still +held a dance within their soles. One old +bird of paradise on Miss Jim’s favorite +bonnet had a chronic wink for the wickedness +he had witnessed.</p> + +<p>It was this wink that attracted Mr. +Opp as he looked up from his arduous +labors. For a disconcerting moment he +was uncertain whether it belonged to +Miss Jim or to the bird.</p> + +<p>“Howdy, Mr. Opp,” said the lady in +<a name="png.090" id="png.090"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">85</span><span class="ns">] + </span>brisk, businesslike tones. “I was taking +a crayon portrait home to Mrs. Gusty, +and I just stopped in to see if I couldn’t +persuade you to take my brother to help +you on the newspaper. You remember +Nick, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp glanced up. A skeleton of a +boy, with a shaven head, was peering +eagerly past him into the office, his keen, +ferret-like eyes devouring every detail +of the printing-presses.</p> + +<p>“He knows the business,” went on +Miss Jim, anxiously pulling at the fingers +of her gloves. “He’s been in it over a +year at Coreyville. He wants to go +back; but I ain’t willing till he gets +stronger. He ain’t been up but two +weeks.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp turned impressively in his revolving +chair, the one luxury which he +had deemed indispensable, and doubtfully +surveyed the applicant. The mere +suggestion of his leaning upon this +broken reed seemed ridiculous; yet the +boy’s thin, sallow face, and Miss Jim’s +imploring eyes, caused him to hesitate.</p> + +<p><a name="png.091" id="png.091"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">86</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Well, you see,” he said, with thumbs +together and his lips pursed, after the +manner of the various employers before +whom he had stood in the past, “we are +just making a preliminary start, and we +haven’t engaged our staff yet. I am a +business man and a careful one. I +don’t feel justified in going to no extra +expense until ‘The Opp Eagle’ is, in a +way, on its feet.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that’s all right,” said the boy; +“I’ll work a month for nothing. Lots +of fellows do that on the big papers.”</p> + +<p>Miss Jim plucked warningly at his +sleeve, and Mr. Opp, seeing that Nick’s +enthusiasm had led him beyond his +depth, went gallantly to the rescue.</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” he said hastily; “that +ain’t my policy. I think I might contrive +to pay you a small, reasonable sum +down, and increase it in ratio as the +paper become more prosperous. Don’t +you think you better sit down?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I’m all right,” said the boy, +impatiently. “I can do ’most anything +about a paper, setting type, printing, +<a name="png.092" id="png.092"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">87</span><span class="ns">] + </span>reporting, collecting, ’most anything you +put me at.”</p> + +<p>Such timely knowledge, in whatever +guise it came, seemed Heaven-sent. Mr. +Opp gave a sigh of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“If you feel that you can’t do any better +than accepting the small sum that +just at present I’ll have to offer you, +why, I think we can come to some arrangement.”</p> + +<p>“That’s mighty nice in you,” said +Miss Jim, jerking her head forward in +order to correct an undue backward +gravitation of her bonnet. “If ever you +want a crayon portrait, made from life +or enlarged from a photograph, I’ll +make you a special price on it. I’m just +taking this here one home to Mrs. Gusty; +she had it done for Guin-never’s birthday.”</p> + +<p>Miss Jim removed the wrappings and +disclosed a portrait of Miss Guinevere +Gusty, very large as to eyes and very +small as to mouth. She handed it to Mr. +Opp, and called attention to its fine qualities.</p> + +<p><a name="png.093" id="png.093"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">88</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Just look at the lace on that dress! +Mrs. Fallows picked a whole pattern off +on her needles from one of my portraits. +And did you notice the eyelashes; you +can actually count ’em! She had four +buttons on her dress, but I didn’t get in +but three; but I ain’t going to mention it +to Mrs. Gusty. Don’t you think it’s +pretty?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, who had been smiling absently +at the portrait, started guiltily. +“Yes,” he said confusedly; “yes, +ma’am, I think she is.” Then he felt a +curious tingling about his ears and realized, +to his consternation, that he was +blushing.</p> + +<p>“She’s too droopin’ a type for me,” +said Miss Jim, removing an ostrich tip +from her angle of vision; then she continued +in a side whisper: “Say, would +you mind making Nick take this bottle +of milk at twelve o’clock, and resting a +little? He ain’t as strong as he lets on, +and he has sort of sinking spells ’long +about noon.”</p> + +<p>Receiving the bottle thus surreptitiously +<a name="png.094" id="png.094"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">89</span><span class="ns">] + </span>offered, and assisting the lady to +gather up her bundles, Mr. Opp bowed +her out, and turned to face the embarrassing +necessity of giving instructions +to his new employee. He was relieved +to find, however, that the young gentleman +in question possessed initiative; for +Nick had promptly removed his coat, and +fallen to work, putting things to rights +with an energy and ability that caused +Mr. Opp to offer up a prayer of heartfelt +gratitude.</p> + +<p>All the morning they worked silently, +Mr. Opp toiling over his editorial, with +constant references to a small dictionary +which he concealed in the drawer of +the table, and Nick giving the presses +a thorough and much-needed overhauling.</p> + +<p>At the noon-hour they shared their +lunch, and Mr. Opp, firm in the authority +invested in him by Miss Jim, demanded +that Nick should drink his milk, and recline +at length upon the office bench for +twenty minutes. It was with great difficulty +that Nick was persuaded to submit +<a name="png.095" id="png.095"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">90</span><span class="ns">] + </span>to this transferred coddling; but he evidently +realized that insubordination at +the start of his career would be fatal, +and, moreover, his limbs ached and his +hands trembled.</p> + +<p>It was in the intimacy of this, their +first, staff meal, that they discussed the +policy of the paper.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” said Mr. Opp, “we have +got a vast undertaking in front of us. +For the next few months we won’t +scarcely have time to draw a natural +breath. I am going to put every faculty +I own on to making ‘The Opp Eagle’ a +fine paper. I expect to get here at seven +o’clock <span class="allsc">A.M.</span>, and continue to pursue my +work as far into the midnight hours as +may need be. Nothing in the way of +pleasure or anything else is going to pervert +my attention. Of course you understand +that my mind will be taken up with +the larger issues of things, and I’ll have +to risk a dependence on you to attend to +the smaller details.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said Nick, gratefully; +“you won’t be sorry you trusted me, +<a name="png.096" id="png.096"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">91</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Mr. Opp. I’ll do my level best. When +will we get out the first issue?”</p> + +<p>“Well—er—the truth is,” said Mr. +Opp, “I haven’t, as you might say, accumulated +sufficient of material as yet. +You see, I have a great many irons in +the fire, and besides opening up this +office, I am the president of a company +that’s just bought up twenty acres of +ground around here. The biggest oil +proposition—”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” interrupted Nick; “but +don’t you think we could get started in +two weeks, with the ads and the contributors’ +letters from other counties, +and a story or two I could run in, and +your editorial page?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve got two advertisements,” said +Mr. Opp; “but I don’t intend to rest +content until every man in the Cove has +got a card in. Now, about these contributors +from other counties?”</p> + +<p>“I can manage that,” said Nick. “I’ll +write to some girl or fellow I know in +the different towns, and ask them to give +me a weekly letter. They sign +<a name="png.097" id="png.097"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">92</span><span class="ns">] + </span>themselves ‘Gipsy’ or ‘Fairy’ or ‘Big Injun’ +or something like that, and tell what’s +doing in their neighborhood. We’ll have +to fix the letters up some, but they help +fill in like everything.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp’s spirits rose at this capable +coöperation.</p> + +<p>“You—er—like the name?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“‘The Opp Eagle’?” said Nick. +“Bully!”</p> + +<p>Such unqualified approval went to +Mr. Opp’s head, and he rashly broke +through the dignity that should hedge +about an editor.</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind reading you some of my +editorial,” he said urbanely; “it’s the +result of considerable labor.”</p> + +<p>He opened the drawer and took out +some loosely written pages, though he +knew each paragraph by heart. Squaring +himself in his revolving-chair, and clearing +his throat, he addressed himself ostensibly +to the cadaverous youth stretched +at length before him, but in imagination +to all the southern counties of the grand +old Commonwealth of Kentucky.</p> + +<p><a name="png.098" id="png.098"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">93</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>His various business experiences had +stored such an assorted lot of information +in his brain that it was not unlike a +country store in the diversity of its contents. +His style, like his apparel, was +more ornate and pretentious than what +lay beneath it. There were many words +which he knew by sight, but with which +he had no speaking acquaintance. But +Mr. Opp had ideals, and this was the first +opportunity he had ever had to put them +before his fellow-men.</p> + +<p>“The great bird of American Liberty,” +he read impressively, “has soared +and flown over the country and lighted +at last in your midst. ‘The Opp Eagle’ +appears for the first time to-day. It is +no money scheme in which we are indulging; +we aim first and foremost to fulfil +a much-needed want in the community. +‘The Opp Eagle’ will tell the people what +you want to know better and at less expense +than any other method. It will +aim at bringing the priceless gems of +knowledge within the reach of +<a name="png.099" id="png.099"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">94</span><span class="ns">] + </span>everybody. For what is bread to the body if +you do not also clothe the mind spiritually +and mentally?</p> + +<p>“We will boom this, our native, city. +If possible, I hope to get the streets +cleaned up and a railroad, and mayhap +in time lamp-posts. This region has ever +been known for its great and fine natural +resources, but we have been astounded, +you might say astonished, in recent visits +to see its naked and crude immensities, +which far exceeds our most sanguine expectations. +So confident are we that a +few of our most highly respectable citizens +have, at the instigation of the Editor +of ‘The Opp Eagle,’ bought up the land +lying between Turtle Creek and the +river, and as soon as a little more capital +has been accumulated, intend to open up +a oil proposition that will astonish the +eyes of the natives!</p> + +<p>“In all candor, we truly believe this +favored region of ours to have no equal +in underground wealth nowhere upon +this terrestrial earth, albeit we are not +of globe-trotter stock nor tribe. We will +<a name="png.100" id="png.100"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">95</span><span class="ns">] + </span>endeavor to induce the home people to +copy after the wise example of a few of +our leading citizens and buy up oil rights +before the kings of Bonanzas from the +Metropolitan cities discover our treasure +and wrench it from our grasp. ‘The Opp +Eagle’ will, moreover, stand for temperance +and reform. We will hurl grape +and cannister into the camps of the +saloonatics until they flee the wrath to +come. Will also publish a particular +statement of all social entertainments, +including weddings, parties, church +socials, and funerals. In conclusion, +would say that we catch this first opportunity +to thank you in collective manner +herein for the welcome you have ordained +‘The Opp Eagle.’”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp came to a close and waited +for applause; nor was he disappointed.</p> + +<p>“Gee! I wish I could write like that!” +said Nick, rising on his elbow. “I can +do the printing all right, and hustle +around for the news; but I never know +how to put on the trimmings.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp laid a hand upon his shoulder; +<a name="png.101" id="png.101"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">96</span><span class="ns">] + </span>he was fast developing a fondness +for the youth.</p> + +<p>“It’s a gift,” he said sympathetically, +“that I am afraid, my boy, nobody can’t +learn you.”</p> + +<p>“Can I come in?” said a voice from +outside, and Mr. Gallop peeped around +the open door.</p> + +<p>“Walk in,” cried Mr. Opp, while Nick +sprang to his feet. “We are just by way +of finishing up the work at hand, and +have a few minutes of spare leisure.”</p> + +<p>“I just wanted to know if you’d help +us get up a town band,” said Mr. Gallop. +“I told the boys you’d be too busy, but +they made me come. I asked Mr. Fallows +if you was musical; but I wouldn’t +repeat what he said.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jimmy is just naturally humoristic,” +said Mr. Opp. “Go along and tell +me what he remarked.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Gallop, indignantly, +“he said you was a expert on the windpipe! +Mr. Tucker, I believe it was, +thought you used to play the accordion.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.102" id="png.102"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">97</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“No,” said Mr. Opp; “it was the cornet. +I was considerable of a performer +at one time.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we want you for the leader of +our band,” said Mr. Gallop. “We are +going to have blue uniforms and give +regular concerts up on Main Street.”</p> + +<p>Nick Fenny began searching for a +pencil.</p> + +<p>“You know,” went on Mr. Gallop, +rapidly, “the last show boat that was +here had a calliope, and there’s another +one coming next week. All I have to do +is to hear a tune twice, then I can play it. +Miss Guin-never Gusty is going up to +Coreyville next week, and she says she’ll +get us some new pieces. She’s going to +select a plush self-rocker for the congregation +to give the new preacher. +They’re keeping it awful secret, but I +heard ’em mention it over the telephone. +The preacher’s baby has been mighty +sick, and so has his mother, up at the +Ridge; but she’s got well again. Well, +I must go along now. Ain’t it warm?”</p> + +<p>Before Mr. Opp had ceased showing +<a name="png.103" id="png.103"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">98</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Mr. Gallop out, his attention was arrested +by the strange conduct of his +staff. That indefatigable youth was +writing furiously on the new wall-paper, +covering the clean brown surface with +large, scrawling characters.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp’s indignation was checked at +its source by the radiant face which Nick +turned upon him.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got another column!” he cried; +“listen here:</p> + +<p>“‘A new and handsome Show Boat +will tie up at the Cove the early part of +next week. A fine calliope will be on +board.’</p> + +<p>“‘Miss Guinevere Gusty will visit +friends in Coreyville soon.’</p> + +<p>“‘The new preacher will be greatly +surprised soon by the gift of a fine plush +rocking-chair from the ladies of the congregation.’</p> + +<p>“‘The infant baby of the new preacher +has been sick, but is better some.’</p> + +<p>“‘Jimmy Fallows came near getting +an undertaking job at the Ridge last +week, but the lady got well.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.104" id="png.104"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">99</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“And that ain’t all,” he continued excitedly; +“I’m going out now to get all +the particulars about that band, and +we’ll have a long story about it.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, left alone in his office, made +an unsuccessful effort to resume work. +The fluttering of the “Eagle’s” wings +preparatory to taking flight was not the +only thing that interfered with his power +of concentration. He did not at all like +the way he felt. Peculiar symptoms had +developed in the last week, and the +quinine which he had taken daily had +failed to relieve him. He could not say +that he was sick,—in fact, he had never +been in better health,—but there was a +strange feeling of restlessness, a vague +disturbance of his innermost being, that +annoyed and puzzled him. Even as he +tried to solve the problem, an irresistible +impulse brought him to his feet and carried +him to the door. Miss Guinevere +Gusty was coming out of her gate in a +soft, white muslin, and a chip hat laden +with pink roses.</p> + +<p>“Anything I can do for you up +<a name="png.105" id="png.105"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">100</span><span class="ns">] + </span>street?” she called across pleasantly to +Mr. Opp.</p> + +<p>“Why, thank you—no, the fact is—well, +you see, I find it necessary for me +to go up myself.” Mr. Opp heard himself +saying these words with great surprise, +and when he found himself actually +walking out of the office, leaving a large +amount of unfinished work, his indignation +knew no bounds.</p> + +<p>“The sun is awful hot. Ain’t you +goin’ to wear a hat?” drawled Miss +Guinevere.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp put his hand to his head in +some embarrassment, and then assured +her that he very often went without it.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">They sauntered slowly down the dusty +road. On one side the trees hedged them +in, but on the other stretched wide fields +of tasseled corn over which shimmered +waves of summer heat. White butterflies +fluttered constantly across their +path, and overhead, hidden somewhere +in the branches, the birds kept up a constant +song. The August sun, still high +in the heavens, shone fiercely down on +<a name="png.106" id="png.106"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">101</span><span class="ns">] + </span>the open road, on the ragweed by the +wayside, on the black-eyed Susans nodding +at the light; but it fell most mercilessly +of all upon the bald spot on the +head of the unconscious Mr. Opp, who +was moving, as in an hypnotic state, into +the land of romance.</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.107" id="png.107"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">102</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>VIII</h2> + + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/b-initial.png" + alt="B" title="B" width="156" height="150" /><span>y</span> all the laws of physics, +Mr. Opp during the +months that ensued, +should have stood perfectly +still. For if ever +two forces pulled with +equal strength in opposite directions, +love and ambition did in the heart of our +friend the editor. But Mr. Opp did not +stand still; on the contrary, he seemed +to be moving in every direction at once.</p> + +<p>In due time “The Opp Eagle” made +its initial flight, and received the approbation +of the community. The first page +was formal, containing the editorial, a +list of the subscribers, a notice to tax-payers, +and three advertisements, one +of which requested “the lady public to +please note that the hats put out by Miss +Duck Brown do not show the wire composing +the frame.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.108" id="png.108"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">103</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>But the first page of the “Eagle” was +like the front door of a house: when once +you got on the other side of it, you were +in the family, as it were, formality was +dropped, and an easy atmosphere of familiarity +prevailed. You read that Uncle +Enoch Siller had Sundayed over at the +Ridge, or that Aunt Gussy Williams was +on the puny list, and frequently there +were friendly references to “Ye Editor” +or “Ye Quill Driver,” for after soaring +to dizzy heights in his editorials, Mr. +Opp condescended to come down on the +second page and move in and out of the +columns, as a host among his guests.</p> + +<p>It is painful to reflect what would +have been the fate of the infatuated Mr. +Opp in these days had it not been for the +faithful Nick. Nick’s thirst for work +was insatiable; he yearned for responsibility, +and was never so happy as when +gathering news. He chased an item as +a dog might chase a rat, first scenting it, +then hunting it down, and after mutilating +it a bit, proudly returning it to his +master.</p> + +<p><a name="png.109" id="png.109"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">104</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Mr. Opp was enabled, by this competent +assistance, to spare many a half-hour +in consultation with Miss Guinevere +Gusty concerning the reportorial work +she was going to do on the paper. The +fact that nobody died or got married delayed +all actual performance, but in +order to be ready for the emergency, +frequent calls were deemed expedient.</p> + +<p>It became part of the day’s program +to read her his editorial, or consult her +about some social item, or to report a +new subscriber, his self-esteem meanwhile +putting forth all manner of new +shoots and bursting into exotic bloom +under the warmth of her approval.</p> + +<p>Miss Gusty, on her part, was acquiring +a new interest in her surroundings. +In addition to the subtle flattery of being +consulted, she was the recipient of daily +offerings of books, and music, and drugstore +candy, and sometimes a handful of +flowers, carefully concealed in a newspaper +to escape the vigilant eye of Jimmy +Fallows.</p> + +<p>On several occasions she returned Mr. +<a name="png.110" id="png.110"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">105</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Opp’s calls, picking her way daintily +across the road, and peeping in at the +window to make sure he was there.</p> + +<p>It was at such times that the staff of +“The Opp Eagle” misconducted itself. +It objected to a young woman in the +press-room; it disapproved of the said +person sitting at the deal table in confidential +conversation with the editor; it +saw no humor in her dipping the pencils +into the ink-well, and scrawling names +on the new office stationery; and when +the point was reached that she moved +about the office, asking absurd questions +and handling the type, the staff could no +longer endure it, but hastened forth to +forget its annoyance in the pursuit of +business.</p> + +<p>Moreover, the conduct of the chief, as +Nick was pleased to call Mr. Opp, was +becoming more and more peculiar. He +would arrive in the morning, his pockets +bristling with papers, and his mind with +projects. He would attack the work of +the day with ferocious intensity, then in +the midst of it, without warning, he +<a name="png.111" id="png.111"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">106</span><span class="ns">] + </span>would lapse into an apparent trance, his +hands in his pockets, his eyes on the ceiling, +and such a smile on his face as one +usually reserves for a camera.</p> + +<p>Nick did not know that it was the song +of the siren that was calling Mr. Opp, +who, instead of lashing himself to the +mast and steering for the open sea, was +letting his little craft drift perilously +near the rocky coast.</p> + +<p>No feature of the proceedings was lost +upon Mrs. Gusty. She applied the same +method to her daughter that she did to +her vines, tying her firmly to the wall of +her own ability, and prescribing the direction +and length to which she should +grow. The situation would need pruning +later, but for the present she studied +conditions and bided her time.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the “Eagle” was circling +more widely in its flight. Mr. Opp’s persistent +and eloquent articles pertaining +to the great oil wealth of the region had +been reinforced by a favorable report +from the laboratory in the city to which +he had sent a specimen from the spring +<a name="png.112" id="png.112"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">107</span><span class="ns">] + </span>on Turtle Creek. Thus equipped with +wings of hope, and a small ballast of +fact, the “Eagle” went soaring on its +way, and in time attracted the attention +of a party of capitalists who were traveling +through the State, investigating oil +and mineral possibilities.</p> + +<p>One epoch-making day, the editor was +called up over the long-distance telephone, +and, after answering numerous +inquiries, was told that the party expected +to spend the following night in +the Cove.</p> + +<p>This important event took place the +last of November, and threw the town +into great excitement. Mr. Opp received +the message early in the morning, and +immediately set to work to call a meeting +of the Turtle Creek Land Company.</p> + +<p>“This here is one of the most critical +moments in the history of Cove City,” +he announced excitedly to Nick. “It’s +a most fortunate thing that they’ve got +me here to make the preliminary arrangements, +and to sort of get the thing +solidified, as you might say. I’ll call a +<a name="png.113" id="png.113"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">108</span><span class="ns">] + </span>meeting for eleven o’clock at Your Hotel. +You call up old man Hager and the +preacher, and I will undertake to notify +Jimmy Fallows and Mr. Tucker.”</p> + +<p>“The preacher ain’t in town; he’s out +at Smither’s Ridge, marrying a couple. +I got the whole notice written out beforehand.”</p> + +<p>“Well, tear it up,” said Mr. Opp. +“I’ve engaged a special hand to do all +weddings and funerals.”</p> + +<p>Nick looked hurt; this was the first +time his kingdom had been invaded. He +kicked the door sullenly.</p> + +<p>“I can’t get the preacher if he’s out +at Smither’s Ridge.”</p> + +<p>“Nick,” said Mr. Opp, equally hurt, +“is that the way for a subordinate reporter +to talk to a’ editor? You don’t +seem to realize that this here is a very +serious and large transaction. There +may be hundreds of dollars involved. +It’s a’ awful weight of responsibility +for one man. I’m willing to finance it +and conduct the main issues, but I’ve +got to have the backing of all the other +<a name="png.114" id="png.114"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">109</span><span class="ns">] + </span>parties. Now it’s with you whether the +preacher gets there or not.”</p> + +<p>“Shall I hunt up Mat Lucas, too?” +asked Nick as he started forth.</p> + +<p>“No; that’s my branch of the work: +but—say—Nick, your sister will have to +be there; she owns some shares.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said Nick; “her buggy is +hitched up in front of Tucker’s. I’ll tell +her to wait till you come.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp was not long in following. +He walked down the road with an important +stride, his bosom scarcely able to +accommodate the feeling of pride and +responsibility that swelled it. He was in +a position of trust; his fellow-citizens +would look to him, a man of larger experience +and business ability, to deal with +these moneyed strangers. He would be +fair, but shrewd. He knew the clever +wiles of the capitalists; he would meet +them with calm but unyielding dignity.</p> + +<p>It was in this mood that he came upon +Miss Jim, who was in the act of disentangling +a long lace scarf from her +buggy whip. Her flushed face and flashing +<a name="png.115" id="png.115"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">110</span><span class="ns">] + </span>eyes gave such unmistakable signs +of wrath that Mr. Opp glanced apprehensively +at the whip in her hand, and +then at Jimmy Fallows, who was hitching +her horse.</p> + +<p>“Howdy, Mr. Opp,” she said. “It’s +a pleasure to meet a gentleman, after +what I’ve seen.”</p> + +<p>“I hope,” said Mr. Opp, “that our +friend here ain’t been indulging in his +customary—”</p> + +<p>“It ain’t Mr. Fallows,” she broke in +sharply; “it’s Mr. Tucker. He ain’t got +the feeling of a broomstick.”</p> + +<p>“Now, Miss Jim,” began Jimmy Fallows +in a teasing tone; but the lady +turned her back upon him and addressed +Mr. Opp.</p> + +<p>“You see this portrait,” she said angrily, +pulling it out from under the seat. +“It took me four weeks, including two +Sunday afternoons, to make it. I begun +it the second week after Mrs. Tucker +died, when I seen him takin’ on so hard +at church. He was cryin’ so when they +took up the collection that he never even +<a name="png.116" id="png.116"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">111</span><span class="ns">] + </span>seen the plate pass him. I went right +home and set to work on this here portrait, +thinking he’d be glad and willing +to buy it from me. Wouldn’t you, if you +was a widower?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp gazed doubtfully at the picture, +which represented Mr. Tucker sitting +disconsolately beside a grave, with +a black-bordered handkerchief held +lightly between his fingers. A weeping-willow +drooped above him, and on the +tombstone at his side were two angels +supporting the initials of the late Mrs. +Tucker.</p> + +<p>“Why, Miss Jim,” insisted Fallows, +“you’re askin’ too much of old man +Tucker to expect him to keep on seein’ a +tombstone when he’s got one eye on you +and one eye on the Widow Gusty. He +ain’t got any hair on top of his head to +part, but he’s took to partin’ it down +the back, and I seen him Sunday trying +to read the hymns without his spectacles. +He started up on ‘Let a Little Sunshine +In’ when they was singing ‘Come, ye +Disconsolate.’ You rub out the face and +<a name="png.117" id="png.117"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">112</span><span class="ns">] + </span>the initials on that there picture and +keep it for the nex’ widower. Ketch him +when he’s still droopin’. You’ll get +your money back. Your mistake was in +waiting too long.”</p> + +<p>“Speaking of waiting,” said Mr. Opp, +impatiently, “there’s a call meeting of +the Turtle Creek Land Co. for this morning +at eleven at Your Hotel. Hope it’s +convenient, Jimmy.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” said Jimmy; “we got more +empty chairs at Your Hotel than anything +else. What’s the meeting for? +Struck gold?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp imparted the great news.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my land!” exclaimed Miss Jim, +“will they be here to-day?”</p> + +<p>“Not until to-morrow night,” explained +Mr. Opp. “This here meeting +this morning is for the stock-holders +only. We got to kinder outline our policy +and arrange a sort of basis of operation.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Miss Jim, “I’ll take the +portrait up to Mrs. Gusty’s and ask her +to take care of it for me. I don’t know +<a name="png.118" id="png.118"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">113</span><span class="ns">] + </span>as I can do the face over into somebody +else’s, but I can’t afford to lose it.”</p> + +<p>It was afternoon before the stock-holders +could all be brought together. +They assembled in the office of Your Hotel +in varying states of mind ranging +from frank skepticism to intense enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>Mr. Tucker represented the conservative +element. He was the rich man of +the town, with whom economy, at first a +necessity, had become a luxury. No +greater proof could have been desired of +Mr. Opp’s persuasive powers than that +Mr. Tucker had invested in a hundred +shares of the new stock. He sat on the +edge of his chair, wizen, anxious, fidgety, +loaded with objections, and ready to go +off half-cocked. Old man Hager sat in +his shadow, objecting when he objected, +voting as he voted, and prepared to +loosen or tighten his purse-strings as +Mr. Tucker suggested.</p> + +<p>Mat Lucas and Miss Jim were independents. +They had both had sufficient +experience in business to know their own +<a name="png.119" id="png.119"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">114</span><span class="ns">] + </span>minds. If there was any money to be +made in the Cove or about it, they intended +to have a part in it.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp and the preacher constituted +the Liberal party. They furnished the +enthusiasm that floated the scheme. They +were able to project themselves into the +future and prophesy dazzling probabilities.</p> + +<p>Jimmy Fallows, alone of the group, +maintained an artistic attitude toward +the situation. He was absolutely detached. +He sat with his chair tilted +against the door and his thumbs in his +armholes, and treated the whole affair +as a huge joke.</p> + +<p>“The matter up for immediate consideration,” +Mr. Opp was saying impressively, +“is whether these here gentlemen +should want to buy us out, we would sell, +or whether we would remain firm in possession, +and let them lease our ground +and share the profits on the oil.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m kinder in favor of selling +out if we get the chance,” urged Mr. +Tucker in a high, querulous voice. “To +<a name="png.120" id="png.120"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">115</span><span class="ns">] + </span>sell on a rising market is always a pretty +good plan.”</p> + +<p>“After we run up ag’in’ them city fellows,” +said Mat Lucas, “I’ll be surprised +if we git as much out as we put +in.”</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen,” protested Mr. Opp, +“this here ain’t the attitude to assume +to the affair. To my profoundest belief +there is a fortune in these here lands. +The establishment of ‘The Opp Eagle’ +has, as you know, been a considerable +tax on my finances, but everything else +I’ve got has gone into this company. +It’s a great and glorious opportunity, +one that I been predicting and prophesying +for these many years. Are we going +to sell out to this party, and let them +reap the prize? No; I trust and hope +that such is not the case. In order to +have more capital to open up the mines, +I advocate the taking of them in.”</p> + +<p>“I bet they been advocating the taking +of us in,” chuckled Jimmy.</p> + +<p>“Well, my dear friends, suppose we +vote on it,” suggested the preacher.</p> + +<p><a name="png.121" id="png.121"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">116</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Reach yer hand back there in the +press, Mr. Opp, and git the lead-pencil,” +said Jimmy, without moving.</p> + +<p>“The motion before the house,” said +Mr. Opp, “is whether we will sell out or +take ’em in. All in favor say ‘Aye.’”</p> + +<p>There was a unanimous vote in the +affirmative, although each member interpreted +the motion in his own way.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said Mr. Opp, briskly; +“the motion is carried. Now we got to +arrange about entertaining the party.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Tucker, whose brain was an accommodation +stopping at each station, +was still struggling with the recent motion +when this new thought about entertainment +whizzed past. The instinct of +the landlord awoke at the call, and he +promptly switched off the main line and +went down the side track.</p> + +<p>“Gallop was here while ago,” Jimmy +was saying, with a satisfied glance at +Mr. Tucker; “said they wanted me to +take keer of ’em. I’ll ’commodate all +but the preachers. If there are any +preachers, Mr. Tucker kin have ’em. I +<a name="png.122" id="png.122"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">117</span><span class="ns">] + </span>have to draw the line somewheres. I +can’t stand ’em ‘Brother-Fallowsing’ +me. Last time the old woman corralled +one and brought him home, he was as +glad to find me to work on as she’d ’a’ +be’n to git some fruit to preserve. +‘Brother,’ he says, reaching out for my +hand, ‘do you ever think about the awful +place you are going to when you die?’ +‘You bet,’ says I; ‘I got more friends +there than anywhere.’” And Jimmy’s +laugh shook the stove-pipe.</p> + +<p>“How many gentlemen are coming to-morrow?” +asked Miss Jim, who was sitting +in a corner as far as possible from +Mr. Tucker.</p> + +<p>“Ten,” said Jimmy. “Now, you +wouldn’t think it, but this here hotel has +got six bedrooms. I’ve tooken care of +as many as twenty at a time, easy, but +I’ll be hanged if I ever heard of such +foolishness as every one of these fellers +wantin’ a room to hisself.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve got three rooms empty,” said +Mr. Tucker.</p> + +<p>“Well, that leaves one over,” said Mat +<a name="png.123" id="png.123"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">118</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Lucas. “I’d take him out home, but +we’ve got company, and are sleeping +three in a bed now.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp hesitated; then his hospitality +overcame his discretion.</p> + +<p>“Just consider him my guest,” he +said. “I’ll be very pleased to provide +entertainment for the gentleman in question.”</p> + +<p>Not until the business of the day was +over, and Mr. Opp was starting home, +did he realize how tired he was. It was +not his duties as an editor, or even as a +promoter, that were telling on him; it +was his domestic affairs that preyed +upon his mind. For Mr. Opp not only +led a strenuous life by day, but by night +as well. Miss Kippy’s day began with +his coming home, and ended in the morning +when he went away; the rest of the +time she waited.</p> + +<p>Just now the problem that confronted +him was the entertainment of the expected +guest. Never, since he could remember, +had a stranger invaded that +little world where Miss Kippy lived her +<a name="png.124" id="png.124"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">119</span><span class="ns">] + </span>unreal life of dreams. What effect would +it have upon her? Would it be kinder to +hide her away as something he was +ashamed of, or to let her appear and run +the risk of exposing her deficiency to uncaring +eyes? During the months that he +had watched her, a fierce tenderness had +sprung up in his heart. He had become +possessed of the hope that she might be +rescued from her condition. Night after +night he patiently tried to teach her to +read and to write, stopping again and +again to humor her whims and indulge +her foolish fancies. More than once he +had surprised a new look in her eyes, a +sudden gleam of sanity, of frightened +understanding; and at such times she +would cling to him for protection against +that strange thing that was herself.</p> + +<p>As he trudged along, deep in thought, +a white chrysanthemum fell at his feet. +Looking up, he discovered Miss Guinevere +Gusty, in a red cloak and hat, sitting +on the bank with a band-box in her +lap.</p> + +<p>His troubles were promptly swallowed +<a name="png.125" id="png.125"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">120</span><span class="ns">] + </span>up in the heart-quake which ensued; but +his speech was likewise, and he stood +foolishly opening and shutting his +mouth, unable to effect a sound.</p> + +<p>“I am waiting for the packet to go +down to Coreyville,” announced Miss +Gusty, straightening her plumed hat, +and smiling. “Mr. Gallop says it’s an +hour late; but I don’t care, it’s such a +grand day.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp removed his eyes long enough +to direct an inquiring glance at the +heavens and the earth. “Is it?” he +asked, finding his voice. “I been so occupied +with business that I haven’t +scarcely taken occasion to note the +weather.”</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s all soft and warm, just +like spring,” she continued, holding out +her arms and looking up at the sky. +“I’ve been wishing I had time to walk +along the river a piece.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll take you,” said Mr. Opp, +eagerly. “We can hear the whistle of +the boat in amply sufficient time to get +back. Besides, it is a hour late.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.126" id="png.126"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">121</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>She hesitated. “You’re real sure you +can get me back?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly,” he announced. “I might +say in all my experience I never have yet +got a lady left on a boat.”</p> + +<p>Miss Guinevere, used to being guided, +handed him her band-box, and followed +him up the steep bank.</p> + +<p>The path wound in and out among the +trees, now losing itself in the woods, now +coming out upon the open river. The +whole world was a riot of crimson and +gold, and it was warm with that soft +echo of summer that brings some of its +sweetness, and all of its sadness, but +none of its mirth.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp walked beside his divinity +oblivious to all else. The sunlight fell +unnoticed except when it lay upon her +face; the only breeze that blew from +heaven was the one that sent a stray curl +floating across her cheek. As Mr. Opp +walked, he talked, putting forth every +effort to please. His burning desire to +be worthy of her led him into all manner +of verbal extravagances, and the mere +<a name="png.127" id="png.127"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">122</span><span class="ns">] + </span>fact that she was taller than he caused +him to indulge in more lofty and figurative +language. He captured fugitive +quotations, evolved strange metaphors, +coined words, and poured all in a glittering +heap of eloquence before her shrine.</p> + +<p>As he talked, his companion moved +heedlessly along beside him, stopping +now and then to gather a spray of goldenrod, +or to gaze absently at the river +through some open space in the trees. +For Miss Guinevere Gusty lived in a +world of her own—a world of vague possibilities, +of half-defined longings, and +intangible dreams. Love was still an abstract +sentiment, something radiant and +breathless that might envelop her at any +moment and bear her away to Elysium.</p> + +<p>As she stooped to free her skirt from +a detaining thorn, she pointed down the +bank.</p> + +<p>“There’s some pretty sweet-gum +leaves; I wish they weren’t so far +down.”</p> + +<p>“Where?” demanded Mr. Opp, rashly +eager to prove his gallantry.</p> + +<p><a name="png.128" id="png.128"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">123</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“’Way down over the edge; but you +mustn’t go, it’s too steep.”</p> + +<p>“Not for me,” said Mr. Opp, plunging +boldly through the underbrush.</p> + +<p>The tree grew at a sharp angle over +the water, and the branches were so far +up that it was necessary to climb out a +short distance in order to reach them. +Mr. Opp’s soul was undoubtedly that of +a knight-errant, but his body, alas! was +not. When he found himself astride the +slender, swaying trunk, with the bank +dropping sharply to the river flowing +dizzily beneath him, he went suddenly +and unexpectedly blind. Between admiration +for himself for ever having gotten +there, and despair of ever getting +back, lay the present necessity of loosening +his hold long enough to break off a +branch of the crimson leaves. He tried +opening one eye, but the effect was so +terrifying that he promptly closed it. +He pictured himself, a few moments before, +strolling gracefully along the road +conversing brilliantly upon divers subjects; +then he bitterly considered the +<a name="png.129" id="png.129"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">124</span><span class="ns">] + </span>present moment and the effect he must +be producing upon the young lady in the +red cloak on the path above. He saw +himself clinging abjectly to the swaying +tree-trunk, only waiting for his strength +or the tree to give away, before he should +be plunged into the waters below.</p> + +<p>“That’s a pretty spray,” called the +soft voice from above; “that one above, +to the left.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, rallying all his courage, +reached blindly out in the direction indicated, +and as he did so, he realized that +annihilation was imminent. Demonstrating +a swift geometrical figure in the air, +he felt himself hurling through space, +coming to an abrupt and awful pause +when he struck the earth. Perceiving +with a thrill of surprise that he was still +alive, he cautiously opened his eyes. To +his further amazement he found that he +had landed on his feet, unhurt, and that +in his left hand he held a long branch of +sweet-gum leaves.</p> + +<p>“Why, you skinned the cat, didn’t +you?” called an admiring voice from +<a name="png.130" id="png.130"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">125</span><span class="ns">] + </span>above. “I was just wondering how you +was ever going to get down.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp crawled up the slippery bank, +his knees trembling so that he could +scarcely stand.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, as he handed her the +leaves; “those kind of athletic acts seem +to just come natural to some people.”</p> + +<p>“You must be awful strong,” continued +Guinevere, looking at him with approval.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp sank beside her on the bank +and gave himself up to the full enjoyment +of the moment. Both hands were +badly bruised, and he had a dim misgiving +that his coat was ripped up the back; +but he was happy, with the wild, reckless +happiness of one to whom Fate has been +unexpectedly kind. Moreover, the goal +toward which all his thought had been +rushing for the past hour was in sight. +He could already catch glimpses of the +vision beautiful. He could hear himself +storming the citadel with magic words +of eloquence. Meanwhile he nursed the +band-box and smiled dumbly into space.</p> + +<p><a name="png.131" id="png.131"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">126</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>From far below, the pungent odor of +burning leaves floated up, and the air +was full of a blue haze that became +luminous as the sun transfused it. It +enveloped the world in mystery, and +threw a glamour over the dying day.</p> + +<p>“It’s so pretty it hurts,” said the girl, +clasping her hands about her knees. “I +love to watch it all, but it makes the +shivers go over me—makes me feel sort +of lonesome. Don’t it you?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp shook his head emphatically. +It was the one time in years that down in +the depths of his soul he had not felt +lonesome. For as Indian summer had +come back to earth, so youth had come +back to Mr. Opp. The flower of his being +was waking to bloom, and the spring +tides were at flood.</p> + +<p>A belated robin overhead, unable +longer to contain his rapture, burst into +song; but Mr. Opp, equally full of his +subject, was unable to utter a syllable. +The sparkling eloquence and the fine +phrases had evaporated, and only the +bare truth was left.</p> + +<p><a name="png.132" id="png.132"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">127</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Guinevere, having become aware of +the very ardent looks that were being +cast upon her, said she thought the boat +must be about due.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” said Mr. Opp; “that is, I +was about to say—why—er—say, Miss +Guin-never, do you think you could ever +come to keer about me?”</p> + +<p>Guinevere, thus brought to bay, took +refuge in subterfuge. “Why—Mr. Opp—I’m +not old enough for you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you are,” he burst forth fervently. +“You are everything for me: +old enough, and beautiful enough, and +smart enough, and sweet enough. I never +beheld a human creature that could even +begin to think about comparing with you.”</p> + +<p>Guinevere, in the agitation of the moment, +nervously plucked all the leaves +from the branch that had been acquired +with such effort. It was with difficulty +that she finally managed to lift her eyes.</p> + +<p>“You’ve been mighty good to me,” +she faltered, “and—and made me lots +happier; but I—I don’t care in the way +you mean.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.133" id="png.133"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">128</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Is there anybody else?” demanded +Mr. Opp, ready to hurl himself to destruction +if she answered in the affirmative.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">“Oh, no,” she answered him; “there +never has been anybody.”</p> + +<p class="illus pgbrk"><a name="png.134" id="png.134"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">129</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img src="images/illus134.jpg" width="450" height="738" + alt="" title="" /><br + />“‘Why, Mr. Opp, I’m not old enough’”</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll take my chance,” said Mr. +Opp, expanding his narrow chest. +“Whatever I’ve got out of the world +I’ve had to fight for. I don’t mind saying +to you that I was sorter started out +with a handicap. You know my sister—she’s +a—well, a’ invalid, you might say, +and while her pa was living, my fortunes +wasn’t what you might call as favorable +as they are at present. I never thought +there would be any use in my considering +getting married till I met you, then +I didn’t seem able somehow to consider +nothing else. If you’ll just let me, I’ll +wait. I’ll learn you to care. I won’t +bother you, but just wait patient as long +as you say.” And this from Mr. Opp, +whose sands of life were already half-run! +“All I ask for,” he went on wistfully, +“is a little sign now and then. +<a name="png.136" id="png.136"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">131</span><span class="ns">] + </span>You might give me a little look or something +just to keep the time from seeming +too long.”</p> + +<p>It was almost a question, and as he +leaned toward her, with the sunlight in +his eyes, something of the beauty of the +day touched him, too, just as it touched +the weed at his feet, making them both +for one transcendent moment part of the +glory of the world.</p> + +<p>Guinevere Gusty, already in love with +love, and reaching blindly out for something +deeper and finer in her own life, +was suddenly engulfed in a wave of sympathy. +She involuntarily put out her +hand and touched his fingers.</p> + +<p>The sun went down behind the distant +shore, and the light faded on the river. +Mr. Opp was almost afraid to breathe; +he sat with his eyes on the far horizon, +and that small, slender hand in his, and +for the moment the world was fixed in its +orbit, and Time itself stood still.</p> + +<p>Suddenly out of the silence came the +long, low whistle of the boat. They +scrambled to their feet and hurried down +<a name="png.137" id="png.137"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">132</span><span class="ns">] + </span>the path, Mr. Opp having some trouble +in keeping up with the nimbler pace of +the girl.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be calculatin’ every minute until +the arrival of the boat to-morrow night,” +he was gasping as they came within sight +of the wharf. “I’ll be envyin’ every—”</p> + +<p>“Where’s my band-box?” demanded +Guinevere. “Why, Mr. Opp, if you +haven’t gone and left it up in the +woods!”</p> + +<p>Five minutes later, just as the bell was +tapping for the boat to start, a flying figure +appeared on the wharf. He was hatless +and breathless, his coat was ripped +from collar to hem, and a large band-box +flapped madly against his legs as he ran. +He came down the home-stretch at a +record-breaking pace, stepped on board +as the gang-plank was lifted, deposited +his band-box on the deck, then with a +running jump cleared the rapidly widening +space between the boat and the shore, +and dropped upon the wharf.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">He continued waving his handkerchief +even after the boat had rounded the +<a name="png.138" id="png.138"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">133</span><span class="ns">] + </span>curve, then, having edited a paper, promoted +a large enterprise, effected a proposal, +and performed two remarkable +athletic stunts all in the course of a day, +Mr. Opp turned his footsteps toward +home.</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.139" id="png.139"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">134</span><span class="ns">] + </span>IX</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/t-initial.png" + alt="T" title="T" width="149" height="150" /><span>he</span> next day dawned wet +and chilly. A fine mist +hung in the trees, and +the leaves and grasses +sagged under their burden +of moisture. All the +crimson and gold had changed to brown +and gray, and the birds and crickets had +evidently packed away their chirps and +retired for the season.</p> + +<p>By the light of a flickering candle, Mr. +D. Webster Opp partook of a frugal +breakfast. The luxurious habits of the +Moore household had made breakfast a +movable feast depending upon the time +of Aunt Tish’s arrival, and in establishing +the new régime Mr. Opp had found it +necessary to prepare his own breakfast +in order to make sure of getting to the +office before noon.</p> + +<p>As he sipped his warmed-over coffee, +<a name="png.140" id="png.140"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">135</span><span class="ns">] + </span>with his elbows on the red table-cloth, +and his heels hooked on the rung of the +chair, he recited to himself in an undertone +from a very large and imposing +book which was propped in front of him, +the leaves held back on one side by a +candlestick and on the other by a salt-cellar. +It was a book which Mr. Opp was +buying on subscription, and it was called +“An Encyclopedia of Wonder, Beauty, +and Wisdom.” It contained pellets of +information on all subjects, and Mr. Opp +made it a practice to take several before +breakfast, and to repeat the dose at each +meal as circumstances permitted. “An +editor,” he told Nick, “has got to keep +himself instructed on all subjects. He +has got to read wide and continuous.”</p> + +<p>As a rule he followed no special line in +his pursuit of knowledge, but with true +catholicity of taste, took the items as they +came, turning from a strenuous round +with “Abbeys and Abbots,” to enter +with fervor into the wilds of “Abyssinia.” +The straw which served as +bookmark pointed to-day to “Ants,” and +<a name="png.141" id="png.141"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">136</span><span class="ns">] + </span>ordinarily Mr. Opp would have attacked +the subject with all the enthusiasm of an +entomologist. But even the best regulated +minds will at times play truant, +and Mr. Opp’s had taken a flying leap +and skipped six hundred and thirty-two +pages, landing recklessly in the middle +of “Young Lochinvar.” For the encyclopedia, +in its laudable endeavor not +only to cover all intellectual requirements, +but also to add the crowning +grace of culture, had appended a collection +of poems under the title “Favorites, +Old and New.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, thus a-wing on the winds of +poesy, had sipped his tepid coffee and +nibbled his burnt toast in fine abstraction +until he came upon a selection which +his soul recognized. He had found words +to the music that was ringing in his heart. +It was then that he propped the book +open before him, and determined not to +close it until he had made the lines his +own.</p> + +<p>Later, as he trudged along the road to +town, he repeated the verses to himself, +<a name="png.142" id="png.142"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">137</span><span class="ns">] + </span>patiently referring again and again to +the note-book in which he had copied the +first words of each line.</p> + +<p>At the office door he regretfully dismounted +from Pegasus, and resolutely +turned his attention to the business of +the day. His desire was to complete the +week’s work by noon, spend the afternoon +at home in necessary preparation +for the coming guest, and have the following +day, which was Saturday, free to +devote to the interest of the oil company.</p> + +<p>In order to accomplish this, expedition +was necessary, and Mr. Opp, being more +bountifully endowed by nature with energy +than with any other quality, fell to +work with a will. His zeal, however, interfered +with his progress, and he found +himself in the embarrassing condition of +a machine which is geared too high.</p> + +<p>He was, moreover, a bit bruised and +stiff from the unusual performances of +the previous day, and any sudden motion +caused him to wince. But the pain +brought recollection, and recollection was +instant balm.</p> + +<p><a name="png.143" id="png.143"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">138</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>It was hardly to be expected that +things would deviate from their usual +custom of becoming involved at a critical +time, so Mr. Opp was not surprised when +Nick was late and had to be spoken to, a +task which the editor always achieved +with great difficulty. Then the printing-press +had an acute attack of indigestion, +and no sooner was that relieved than the +appalling discovery was made that there +were no more good “S’s” in the type +drawer.</p> + +<p>“Use dollar-marks for the next issue,” +directed Mr. Opp, “and I’ll wire +immediate to the city.”</p> + +<p>“We’re kinder short on ‘I’s’ too,” +said Nick. “You take so many in your +articles.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp looked injured. “I very seldom +or never begin on an ‘I,’” he said +indignantly.</p> + +<p>“You get ’em in somehow,” said Nick. +“Why, the editor over at Coreyville +even said ‘Our Wife.’”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Opp, “I will, too,—that +is—er—”</p> + +<p><a name="png.144" id="png.144"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">139</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The telephone-bell covered his retreat.</p> + +<p>“Hello!” he answered in a deep, incisive +voice to counteract the effect of his +recent embarrassment, “Office of ‘The +Opp Eagle.’ Mr. Toddlinger? Yes, sir. +You say you want your subscription +stopped! Well, now, wait a minute—see +here, I can explain that—” but the other +party had evidently rung off.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp turned with exasperation +upon Nick:</p> + +<p>“Do you know what you went and did +last week?” He rose and, going to the +file, consulted the top paper. “There it +is,” he said, “just identical with what he +asserted.”</p> + +<p>Nick followed the accusing finger and +read:</p> + +<p>“Mr. and Mrs. Toddlinger moved this +week into their new horse and lot.”</p> + +<p>Before explanations could be entered +into, there was a knock at the door. +When it was answered, a very small +black boy was discovered standing on the +step. He wore a red shirt and a pair of +ragged trousers, between which strained +<a name="png.145" id="png.145"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">140</span><span class="ns">] + </span>relations existed, and on his head was +the brim of a hat from which the crown +had long since departed. Hanging on a +twine string about his neck was a large +onion.</p> + +<p>He opened negotiations at once.</p> + +<p>“Old Miss says fer you-all to stop dat +frowin’ papers an’ sech like trash outen +de winder; dey blows over in our-all’s +yard.”</p> + +<p>He delivered the message in the same +belligerent spirit with which it had evidently +been conveyed to him, and rolled +his eyes at Mr. Opp as if the offense had +been personal.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp drew him in, and closed the +door. “Did—er—did Mrs. Gusty send +you over to say that?” he asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Yas, sir; she done havin’ a mad spell. +What’s dat dere machine fer?”</p> + +<p>“It’s a printing-press. Do you think +Mrs. Gusty is mad at me?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Yas, sir</em>,” emphatically; “she’s mad +at ever’body. She ’lows she gwine lick +me ef I don’t tek keer. She done got de +<a name="png.146" id="png.146"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">141</span><span class="ns">] + </span>kitchen so full o’ switches hit looks jes +lak outdoors.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think she would really whip +you,” said Mr. Opp, already feeling the +family responsibility.</p> + +<p>“Naw, sir; she jes ’low she gwine to. +What’s in dem dere little drawers?”</p> + +<p>“Type,” said Mr. Opp. “You go back +and tell Mrs. Gusty that Mr. Opp says +he’s very sorry to have caused her any +inconvenience, and he’ll send over immediate +and pick up them papers.”</p> + +<p>“You’s kinder skeered of her, too, +ain’t you?” grinned the ambassador, +holding up one bare, black foot to the +stove. “My mammy she sasses back, but +I runs.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you’d better run now,” said +Mr. Opp, who resented such insight; +“but, see here, what’s that onion for?”</p> + +<p>“To ’sorb disease,” said the youth, +with the air of one who is promulgating +some advanced theory in therapeutics; +“hit ketches it ’stid of you. My pappy +weared a’ onion fer put-near a whole +year, an’ hit ’sorbed all de diseases whut +<a name="png.147" id="png.147"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">142</span><span class="ns">] + </span>was hangin’ round, an’ nary a one never +teched him. An’ one day my pappy he +got hongry, an’ he et dat dere onion, an’ +whut you reckon? He up an’ died!”</p> + +<p>“Well, you go ’long now,” said Mr. +Opp, “and tell Mrs. Gusty just exactly +verbatim what I told you. What did you +say was your name?”</p> + +<p>“Val,” said the boy.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp managed to slip a nickel into +the dirty little hand without Nick’s seeing +him. Nick was rather firm about +these things, and disapproved heartily +of Mr. Opp’s indiscriminate charities.</p> + +<p>“Gimme nudder one an’ I’ll tell you +de rest ob it,” whispered Val on the +door-step.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp complied.</p> + +<p>“Valentine Day Johnson,” he announced +with pride; then pocketing his +prize, he vanished around the corner of +the house, forgetting his office of plenipotentiary +in his sudden accession of +wealth.</p> + +<p>Once more peace settled on the office, +and Mr. Opp was engrossed in an article +<a name="png.148" id="png.148"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">143</span><span class="ns">] + </span>on “The Greatest Petroleum Proposition +South of the Mason and Dixon +Line,” when an ominous, wheezing +cough announced the arrival of Mr. +Tucker. This was an unexpected catastrophe, +for Mr. Tucker’s day for spending +the morning at the office was Saturday, +when he came in to pay for his +paper. It seemed rather an unkind trick +of Fate’s that he should have been permitted +to arrive a day too soon.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman drew up a chair to +the stove, then deliberately removed his +overcoat and gloves.</p> + +<p>It was when he took off his overshoes, +however, that Mr. Opp and Nick exchanged +looks of despair. They had a +signal code which they habitually employed +when storms swept the office, but +in a calm like this they were powerless.</p> + +<p>“Mighty sorry to hear about that uprisin’ +in Guatemala,” said Mr. Tucker, +who took a vivid interest in foreign affairs, +but remained quite neutral about +questions at home.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp moved about the office +<a name="png.149" id="png.149"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">144</span><span class="ns">] + </span>restlessly, knowing from experience that to +sit down in the presence of Mr. Tucker +was fatal. The only chance of escape lay +in motion. He sharpened his pencils, +straightened his desk, and tied up two +bundles of papers while Mr. Tucker’s address +on the probable future of the Central +American republics continued. Then +Mr. Opp was driven to extreme measures. +He sent himself a telegram. This +ruse was occasionally resorted to, to free +the office from unwelcome visitors without +offending them, and served incidentally +to produce an effect which was not +unpleasant to the editor.</p> + +<p>Scribbling a message on a telegraph-blank +procured for the purpose from Mr. +Gallop, Mr. Opp handed it secretly to +Nick, who in turn vanished out of the +back door only to reappear at the front. +Then the editor, with much ostentation, +opened the envelop, and, after reading +the contents, declared that he had business +that would require immediate action. +Would Mr. Tucker excuse him? If +so, Nick would hold his coat.</p> + +<p><a name="png.150" id="png.150"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">145</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“But,” protested Mr. Tucker, resisting +the effort to force him into his overcoat, +“I want to talk over this oil +business. We don’t want to take any +risks with those fellows. As I was a-saying +to Mr. Hager—”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Opp, taking his own +hat from a nail, and apparently in great +haste, “I know, of course. You are exactly +right about it. We’ll just talk it +over as we go up-street,” and linking his +arm through Mr. Tucker’s, he steered +him up the muddy channel of Main +Street, and safely into the harbor of Our +Hotel, where he anchored him breathless, +but satisfied.</p> + +<p>Having thus disposed, to the best of +his ability, of his business for the week, +Mr. Opp turned his attention to his yet +more arduous domestic affairs. The +menu for the guest’s dinner had weighed +rather heavily upon him all day, for he +had never before entertained in his own +home. His heart had been set on turkey; +but as that was out of the question, +he compromised on a goose, +<a name="png.151" id="png.151"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">146</span><span class="ns">] + </span>adhering tenaciously to the cranberry +sauce.</p> + +<p>It was easier to decide on the goose +than it was to procure it, and some time +was consumed in the search. Mr. Opp +brought all his mental powers to bear on +the subject, and attacked the problem +with a zeal that merited success.</p> + +<p>When he reached home at noon with +his arm full of bundles, Aunt Tish met +him with lamentations.</p> + +<p>“Dey ain’t but one clean table-cloth, +an’ hit’s got a hole in hit, an’ I can’t find +no sheets to put on de company baid, an’ +dere ain’t three cups an’ saucers in de +house what belongs to theyselves. I +shorely doan know what you thinkin’ +’bout, Mr. D., to go an’ ast company fer. +We-all never does hab company. An’ +Miss Kippy she be’n habin’ a sort er +spell, too, cryin’ to herself, an’ won’t tell +me whut’s de matter.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp shook the raindrops from his +hat-brim, and laid the goose tenderly on +the table; then he stepped inside the dining-room +door, and stood watching the +<a name="png.152" id="png.152"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">147</span><span class="ns">] + </span>childish figure that sat on the floor before +the fire. She was putting artificial flowers +on her head, and every time they fell +off, she dropped her head on her knees +and sobbed softly to herself. Again and +again she made the experiment, and again +and again the faded roses came tumbling +into her lap.</p> + +<p>“I’ll fix ’em,” said Mr. Opp, coming +up behind her; “don’t you cry about it, +Kippy; I can make them stay, easy.” He +searched around in the clothes-press until +he found a paper box, which he tied +securely upon Miss Kippy’s head.</p> + +<p>“Now try it,” he cried; “put the flowers +on your head; they’ll stay.”</p> + +<p>Timidly, as if afraid of another disappointment, +she tried, and when the flowers +were caught in the box, she gave a +sigh of satisfaction and delight.</p> + +<p>“Well, sence I j’ined de church!” exclaimed +Aunt Tish, who had been watching +proceedings from the doorway; then +she added, as Mr. Opp came into the +hall: “Hit beats my time de way you +handles dat pore chile. Sometimes she +<a name="png.153" id="png.153"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">148</span><span class="ns">] + </span>got jes good sense as you an’ me has. +She ast me t’other day if she wasn’t +crazy. I ’lowed no indeedy, dat crazy +folks was lock up in a lunatic asylum. +An’ she says ‘Where?’ ‘Up at Coreyville,’ +I say. She went on playin’ jes as +nice and happy. De chile’s all right ef +she don’t git a fool notion; den dey ain’t +nobody kin make out what she wants inceptin’ +you. She been cryin’ over dem +flowers ever sence breakfast.”</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you come after me?” +demanded Mr. Opp.</p> + +<p>“Jes to tie a box on her haid?” asked +Aunt Tish. “Lor’, I thought you was +busy makin’ dem newspapers.”</p> + +<p>“So I am,” said Mr. Opp, “but whenever +Miss Kippy gets to crying, I want +you to come direct after me, do you hear? +There ain’t anything more important +than in keeping her from getting worried. +Now, let’s have a look at that +there table-cloth.”</p> + +<p>All afternoon Mr. Opp encountered +difficulties that would have disheartened +a less courageous host. With the limited +<a name="png.154" id="png.154"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">149</span><span class="ns">] + </span>means at hand it seemed impossible to +entertain in a manner befitting the dignity +of the editor of “The Opp Eagle.” +But Mr. Opp, though sorely perplexed, +was not depressed, for beneath the disturbed +surface of his thoughts there ran +an undercurrent of pure joy. It caused +him to make strange, unnatural sounds +in his throat which he meant for song; it +made him stop every now and then in his +work to glance tenderly and reminiscently +at the palm of his right hand, once +even going so far as to touch it softly +with his lips. For since the last sun had +set there had been no waking moment but +had held for him the image of a golden +world inhabited solely by a pair of luminous +eyes, one small hand, and, it must +be added, a band-box.</p> + +<p>Through the busy afternoon Mr. Opp +referred constantly to his watch, and in +spite of the manifold duties to be performed, +longed impatiently for evening +to arrive. At five o’clock he had moved +the furniture from one bedroom to another, +demonstrated beyond a possibility +<a name="png.155" id="png.155"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">150</span><span class="ns">] + </span>of doubt that a fire could not be made in +the parlor grate without the chimney +smoking, mended two chairs, hung a pair +of curtains, and made three errands to +town. So much accomplished, he turned +his attention to the most difficult task +of all.</p> + +<p>“Kippy,” he said, going to the window +where she was gleefully tracing the +course of the raindrops as they chased +down the pane. “Stop a minute, Kippy. +Listen; I want to talk to you.”</p> + +<p>Miss Kippy turned obediently, but her +lips continued the dumb conversation she +was having with the rain.</p> + +<p>“How would you like,” said Mr. Opp, +approaching the subject cautiously, “to +play like you was a grown-up lady—just +for to-night, you know?”</p> + +<p>Miss Kippy looked at him suspiciously, +and her lips stopped moving. Heretofore +she had resisted all efforts to change +her manner of dress.</p> + +<p>“There’s a gentleman a-coming,” +continued Mr. Opp, persuasively; “he’s +going to remain over till to-morrow, and +<a name="png.156" id="png.156"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">151</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Aunt Tish is cooking that large goose for +him, and I’ve been fixing up the spare +room. We are all endeavoring to give +him a nice time. Don’t you want to dress +up for him?”</p> + +<p>“Will it make him glad?” asked Miss +Kippy.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp expiated on the enjoyment +it would give the unknown guest to see +Kippy in the blue merino dress which +Aunt Tish had gotten out of Mrs. Opp’s +old trunk up-stairs.</p> + +<p>“And you’ll let Aunt Tish arrange +your hair up like a lady?” went on Mr. +Opp, pushing the point.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Miss Kippy, after a moment, +“Oxety will. She will make him +glad.”</p> + +<p>“Good!” said Mr. Opp. “And if you +will sit nice and quiet and never say a +word all through supper, I’ll get you a +book with pictures in it, representing +flowers and things.”</p> + +<p>“Roses?” asked Miss Kippy, drawing +a quick breath of delight; and when Mr. +Opp nodded, she closed her eyes and +<a name="png.157" id="png.157"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">152</span><span class="ns">] + </span>smiled as if heaven were within sight. +For Miss Kippy was like a harp across +which some rough hand had swept, snapping +all the strings but two, the high one +of ecstasy and the low one of despair.</p> + +<p>At six o’clock Mr. Opp went up to +make his toilet. The rain, which had +been merely rehearsing all day, was now +giving a regular performance, and it +played upon the windows, and went trilling +through the gutters on the roof, while +the old cedar-tree scraped an accompaniment +on the corner of the porch below. +But, nothing daunted, Mr. Opp donned +his bravest attire. Cyclones and tornadoes +could not have deterred him from +making the most elaborate toilet at his +command. To be sure, he turned up the +hem of his trousers and tied a piece of +oilcloth securely about each leg, and he +also spread a handkerchief tenderly over +his pink necktie; but these could be easily +removed after he heard the boat whistle.</p> + +<p>He dressed by the light of a sputtering +candle before a small mirror the veracity +of which was more than questionable. It +<a name="png.158" id="png.158"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">153</span><span class="ns">] + </span>presented him to himself as a person +with a broad, flat face, the nose of which +appeared directly between his eyes, and +the mouth on a line with the top of his +ears. But he made allowances for these +idiosyncrasies on the part of the mirror; +in fact, he made such liberal allowances +that he was quite satisfied with the reflection.</p> + +<p>“I’ll procure the hack to bring the +company back in,” he said to Aunt Tish +rather nervously as he passed through +the kitchen. “You assist Miss Kippy to +get arranged, and I’ll carry up the coal +and set the table after I return back +home. I can do it while the company is +up in his room.”</p> + +<p>All the way into town, as he splashed +along the muddy road, he was alternately +dreading the arrival of one passenger, +and anticipating joyfully, the +arrival of another. For as the time approached +the impending presence of the +company began to take ominous form, +and Mr. Opp grew apprehensive.</p> + +<p>At the landing he found everything +<a name="png.159" id="png.159"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">154</span><span class="ns">] + </span>dark and quiet. Evidently the packet +was unusually late, and the committee appointed +to meet it and conduct the guests +to their various destinations was waiting +somewhere uptown, probably at Your +Hotel. Mr. Opp paused irresolute: his +soul yearned for solitude, but the rain-soaked +dock offered no shelter except the +slight protection afforded by a pile of +empty boxes. Selecting the driest and +largest of these, he turned it on end, and +by an adroit adjustment of his legs, succeeded +in getting inside.</p> + +<p>Below, the river rolled heavily past in +the twilight, sending up tiny juts of water +to meet the pelting rain. A cold, penetrating +mist clung to the ground, and +the wind carried complaining tales from +earth to heaven. Everything breathed +discomfort, but Mr. Opp knew it not.</p> + +<p>His soul was sailing sunlit seas of +bliss, fully embarked at last upon the +most magic and immortal of all illusions. +Sitting cramped and numb in his narrow +quarters, he peered eagerly into the +darkness, watching for the first lights of +<a name="png.160" id="png.160"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">155</span><span class="ns">] + </span>the <i>Sunny South</i> to twinkle through the +gloom. And as he watched he chanted +in a sing-song ecstasy:</p> + +<div class="quote pgbrk"> +<div class="poem"> +<div>“She is coming, my own, my sweet;</div> +<div class="i2">Were it ever so airy a tread,</div> +<div>My heart would hear her and beat,</div> +<div class="i2">Were it earth in an earthy bed;</div> +<div>My dust would hear her and beat,</div> +<div class="i2">Had I lain for a century dead;</div> +<div>Would start and tremble under her feet,</div> +<div class="i2">And blossom in purple and red.”</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.161" id="png.161"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">156</span><span class="ns">] + </span>X</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/w-initial.png" + alt="W" title="W" width="144" height="150" /><span>hen</span> Miss Guinevere +Gusty tripped up the +gang-plank of the <i>Sunny +South</i> late that afternoon, +vainly trying to +protect herself from the +driving rain, she was met half-way by +the gallant old captain.</p> + +<p>Tradition had it that the captain had +once cast a favorable eye upon her +mother; but Mrs. Gusty, being cross-eyed, +had looked elsewhere.</p> + +<p>“We are a pudding without plums,” +he announced gaily, as he held the umbrella +at an angle calculated to cause a +waterspout in the crown of her hat—“not +a lady on board. All we needed +was a beautiful young person like you to +liven us up. You haven’t forgotten +those pretty tunes you played for me last +trip, have you?”</p> + +<p><a name="png.162" id="png.162"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">157</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Guinevere laughed, and shook her +head. “That was just for you and the +girls,” she said.</p> + +<p>“Well, it’ll be for me and the boys +this time. I’ve got a nice lot of gentlemen +on board, going down to your place, +by the way, to buy up all your oil-lands. +Now I know you are going to play for +us if I ask you to.”</p> + +<p>“My goodness! are they on this +boat?” asked Guinevere, in a flutter. “I +am so glad; I just love to watch city +people.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the captain; “that was +Mr. Mathews talking to me as you came +aboard—the one with the white beard. +Everything that man touches turns to +money. That glum-looking young fellow +over there is his secretary. Hinton +is his name; curious sort of chap.”</p> + +<p>Guinevere followed his glance with +eager interest. “The solemn one with +the cap pulled over his eyes?” she asked.</p> + +<p>The captain nodded. “All the rest are +inside playing cards and having a good +time; but he’s been moping around like +<a name="png.163" id="png.163"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">158</span><span class="ns">] + </span>that ever since they got on board. I’ve +got to go below now, but when I come +back, you’ll play some for me, won’t +you?”</p> + +<p>Guinevere protested violently, but +something within her whispered that if +the captain was very insistent she would +render the selection which had won her a +gold medal at the last commencement.</p> + +<p>Slipping into the saloon, she dropped +quietly into one of the very corpulent +chairs which steamboats particularly affect, +and, unobserved, proceeded to give +herself up to the full enjoyment of the +occasion. The journey from Coreyville +to the Cove, in the presence of the distinguished +strangers, had assumed the +nature of an adventure. Giving her +imagination free rein, Miss Gusty, without +apology, transported the commonplace +group of business men at the card-table +into the wildest realms of romance. +The fact that their language, appearance, +and manner spoke of the city, was +for her a sufficient peg upon which to +hang innumerable conjectures. So deep +<a name="png.164" id="png.164"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">159</span><span class="ns">] + </span>was she in her speculations that she did +not hear the captain come up behind her.</p> + +<p>“Where have you been hiding?” he +asked in stentorian tones. “I was afraid +you’d gotten out on deck and the wind +had blown you overboard. Don’t you +think it’s about time for that little tune? +We are forty minutes late now, and +we’ll lose another half-hour taking on +freight at Smither’s Landing. I’ve +been banking on hearing that little +dance-piece you played for me before.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t play—before them,” said +Guinevere, nervously.</p> + +<p>The captain laughed. “Yes, you can; +they’ll like it. Mr. Mathews said something +mighty pretty about you when you +came on board.”</p> + +<p>“He didn’t—honest?” said Guinevere, +blushing. “Oh, truly, Captain, I +can’t play!” But even as she spoke she +unbuttoned her gloves. Her accomplishment +was clamoring for an exhibition, +and though her spirit failed her, +she twirled the piano-stool and took her +seat.</p> + +<p><a name="png.165" id="png.165"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">160</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The group of men at the table, heretofore +indifferent to proceedings, looked +up when a thundering chord broke the +stillness. A demure young girl, with +gentle, brown eyes, was making a furious +and apparently unwarranted attack +upon the piano. Her one desire evidently +was to get inside of the instrument. +With insinuating persistence she +essayed an entrance through the treble, +and, being unable to effect it, fell upon +the bass, and exhausted a couple of +rounds of ammunition there. The assault +on both flanks being unsuccessful, +she resorted to strategy, crossing her +hands and assailing each wing of the +enemy from an unexpected quarter. +When this move failed, she evidently +became incensed, and throwing aside +diplomacy, rallied all her forces, charging +her artillery up to the highest note, +then thundering down to the lowest, +beating down the keys as fast as they +dared to rise. In the midst of the +carnage, when the clamor was at its +height and victory seemed imminent, she +<a name="png.166" id="png.166"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">161</span><span class="ns">] + </span>suddenly paused, with one hand in air +and her head gently inclined, and, tapping +out two silvery bugle-notes of truce, +raised the siege.</p> + +<p>The appalling silence that ensued +might have hung above a battle-field of +slain and wounded. The captain bit his +mustache.</p> + +<p>“That wasn’t exactly the one I +meant,” he said. “I want that little +dance-tune with the jingle to it.”</p> + +<p>Miss Gusty, disappointed and surprised +at the effect which her masterpiece +had failed to produce, was insisting +with flushed cheeks that she could +play no more, when the gentleman who +was called Mr. Mathews rose from the +table and came toward her. His hair +and pointed beard were white, but his +eyes were still young, and he looked at +her while he spoke to the captain.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon, Captain,” he was +saying in smooth, even tones, “can’t you +persuade the young lady to sing something +for us?”</p> + +<p>“I never took vocal,” said Guinevere, +<a name="png.167" id="png.167"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">162</span><span class="ns">] + </span>looking at him frankly. “I’m making a +specialty of instrumental.”</p> + +<p>The gentleman looked sidewise at his +companions and stroked his beard +gravely. “But you <em>do</em> sing?” he persisted.</p> + +<p>“Just popular music,” said Guinevere. +“I was going to take ‘The Holy +City’ and ‘The Rosary’ last year, but the +vocal teacher got sick.”</p> + +<p>In response to a very urgent invitation, +she took her seat again, and this +time sang a sentimental ditty concerning +the affairs of one “Merry Little +Milly in the Month of May.”</p> + +<p>This selection met with prompt favor, +and the men left their cards, and gathered +about the piano, demanding an encore.</p> + +<p>Miss Guinevere’s voice was very +small, and her accompaniment very +loud, but, in her effort to please, she unconsciously +became dramatic in her expression, +and frowned and smiled and +lifted her brows in sympathy with the +emotions of the damsel in the song. +And Miss Guinevere’s eyes being +<a name="png.168" id="png.168"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">163</span><span class="ns">] + </span>expressive and her lips very red, the result +proved most satisfactory to the +audience.</p> + +<p>One stout young man in particular expressed +himself in such unrestrained +terms of enthusiasm, that Guinevere, +after singing several songs, became visibly +embarrassed. Upon the plea of +being too warm she made her escape, +half-promising to return and sing again +later on.</p> + +<p>Flushed with the compliments and the +excitement, and a little uncertain about +the propriety of it all, she hurried +through the swing-door and, turning +suddenly on the deck, stumbled over +something in the darkness.</p> + +<p>It proved to be a pair of long legs that +were stretched out in front of a silent +figure, who shot a hand out to restore +Miss Gusty to an upright position. But +the deck was slippery from the rain, and +before he could catch her, she went down +on her knees.</p> + +<p>“Did it hurt you?” a voice asked anxiously.</p> + +<p><a name="png.169" id="png.169"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">164</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“It don’t matter about me,” answered +Guinevere, “just so it didn’t spoil my +new dress. I’m afraid there’s an awful +tear in it.”</p> + +<p>“I hope not,” said the voice. “I’d +hate to be guilty of dress slaughter even +in the second degree. Sure you are +not hurt? Sit down a minute; here’s +a chair right behind you, out of the +wind.”</p> + +<p>Guinevere groped about for the chair. +“Mother can mend it,” she went on, +voicing her anxiety, “if it isn’t too +bad.”</p> + +<p>“And if it is?” asked the voice.</p> + +<p>“I’ll have to wear it, anyhow. It’s +brand splinter new, the first one I ever +had made by a sure-enough dressmaker.”</p> + +<p>“My abominable legs!” muttered the +voice.</p> + +<p>Guinevere laughed, and all at once became +curious concerning the person who +belonged to the legs.</p> + +<p>He had dropped back into his former +position, with feet outstretched, hands in +<a name="png.170" id="png.170"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">165</span><span class="ns">] + </span>pockets, and cap pulled over his eyes, +and he did not seem inclined to continue +the conversation.</p> + +<p>She drew in deep breaths of the cool +air, and watched the big side-wheel +churn the black water into foam, and +throw off sprays of white into the darkness. +She liked to be out there in the +sheltered corner, watching the rain dash +past, and to hear the wind whistling up +the river. She was glad to be in the +dark, too, away from all those gentlemen, +so ready with their compliments. +But the sudden change from the heated +saloon to the cold deck chilled her, and +she sneezed.</p> + +<p>Her companion stirred. “If you are +going to stay out here, you ought to put +something around you,” he said irritably.</p> + +<p>“I’m not very cold. Besides, I don’t +want to go in. I don’t want them to +make me sing any more. Mother’ll be +awfully provoked if I take cold, though. +Do you think it’s too damp?”</p> + +<p>“There’s my overcoat,” said the +<a name="png.171" id="png.171"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">166</span><span class="ns">] + </span>man, indifferently; “you can put that +around you if you want to.”</p> + +<p>She struggled into the large sleeves, +and he made no effort to help her.</p> + +<p>“You don’t like music, do you?” she +asked naïvely as she settled back in her +chair.</p> + +<p>“Well, yes,” he said slowly. “I +should say the thing I dislike least in the +world is music.”</p> + +<p>“Then why didn’t you come in to +hear me play?” asked Guinevere, emboldened +by the darkness.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I could hear it outside,” he assured +her; “besides, I have a pair of +defective lamps in my head. The electric +lights hurt my eyes.”</p> + +<p>He struck a match as he spoke to relight +his pipe, and by its flare she caught +her first glimpse of his face, a long, +slender, sensitive face, brooding and unhappy.</p> + +<p>“I guess you are Mr. Hinton,” she +said as if to herself.</p> + +<p>He turned with the lighted match in +his hand. “How did you know that?”</p> + +<p><a name="png.172" id="png.172"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">167</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“The captain told me. He pointed out +you and Mr. Mathews, but he didn’t tell +me any of the rest.”</p> + +<p>“A branch of your education that can +afford to remain neglected,” said Mr. +Hinton as he puffed at his pipe.</p> + +<p>The door of the saloon swung open, +and the chubby gentleman appeared in +the light, shading his eyes, and calling +out that they were all waiting for the +little canary-bird.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to go,” whispered +Guinevere, shrinking back into the +shadow.</p> + +<p>The chubby gentleman peered up and +down the deck, then, assailed by a gust +of wind, beat a hasty retreat.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like him,” announced Guinevere, +drawing a breath of relief. “It +isn’t just because he’s fat and ugly; +it’s the silly way he looks at you.”</p> + +<p>“What a pity you can’t tell him so!” +said her companion, dryly. “Such blasphemy +might do him good. He is the +scion of a distinguished family made +wealthy by the glorious sale of pork.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.173" id="png.173"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">168</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Are all the gentlemen millionaires?” +asked Guinevere in awe.</p> + +<p>“Present company excepted,” qualified +Hinton.</p> + +<p>“It’ll seem awful small to them down +in the Cove. Why, we haven’t got room +enough at the two hotels to put them all +up.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you live there, do you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I’ve just been up at Coreyville +spending the night. I used to hate it +down at the Cove, it was so little and +stupid; but I like it better now.”</p> + +<p>There was a long silence, during which +each pursued a widely different line of +thought.</p> + +<p>“We have got a newspaper at the +Cove now,” announced Guinevere. “It’s +an awful nice paper, called ‘The Opp +Eagle.’”</p> + +<p>“Opp?” repeated Hinton. “Oh, yes, +that was the man I telephoned to. What +sort of chap is he, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>“He’s awfully smart,” said Guinevere, +her cheeks tingling. “Not so much +<a name="png.174" id="png.174"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">169</span><span class="ns">] + </span>book learning, but a fine brain. The +preacher says he’s got a natural gift of +language. You ought to see some of his +editorials.”</p> + +<p>“Hiding his light under a bushel, +isn’t he?”</p> + +<p>“That’s just it,” said Guinevere, glad +to expatiate on the subject. “If Mr. Opp +could get in a bigger place and get more +chances, he’d have a lot more show. +But he won’t leave Miss Kippy. She’s +his sister, you know; there is only the +two of them, and she’s kind of crazy, +and has to have somebody take care of +her. Mother thinks it’s just awful he +don’t send her to an asylum, but I know +how he feels.”</p> + +<p>“Is he a young man?” asked Mr. +Hinton.</p> + +<p>“Well—no, not exactly; he’s just seventeen +years and two months older than +I am.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said Hinton, comprehensively.</p> + +<p>There was another long pause, during +which Guinevere turned things over in +<a name="png.175" id="png.175"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">170</span><span class="ns">] + </span>her mind, and Mr. Hinton knocked the +ashes from his pipe.</p> + +<p>“I think girls seem a good deal older +than they are, don’t you?” she asked +presently.</p> + +<p>“Some girls,” Hinton agreed.</p> + +<p>“How old would you take me for?”</p> + +<p>“In the dark?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“About twelve.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that’s not fair,” said Guinevere. +“I’m eighteen, and lots of people +take me for twenty.”</p> + +<p>“That is when they can see you,” said +Hinton.</p> + +<p>Guinevere decided that she did not +like him. She leaned back in her corner +and tried not to talk. But this course +had its disadvantage, for when she was +silent he seemed to forget she was there.</p> + +<p>Once he took a turn up and down the +deck, and when he came back, he stood +for a long time leaning over the rail and +gazing into the water. As he turned to +sit down she heard him mutter to himself:</p> + +<div class="quote"> +<div class="poem"> +<div><a name="png.176" id="png.176"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">171</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“… That no life lives forever;</div> +<div>That dead men rise up never;</div> +<div>That even the weariest river</div> +<div>Winds somewhere safe to sea.”</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Guinevere repeated the words softly +to herself, and wondered what they +meant. She was still thinking about +them when a dim red light in the distance +told her they were approaching the +Cove. She slipped off the heavy overcoat +and began to put on her gloves.</p> + +<p>“Hello! we are getting in, are we?” +asked Hinton, shaking himself into an +upright position. “Is that Cove City +where the big red light bores into the +water like a corkscrew?”</p> + +<p>They moved to the bow of the boat and +watched as it changed its course and +made for the opposite shore.</p> + +<p>“Did you mean,” said Guinevere, absently, +“that you wanted it all to end +like that? For us to just go out into +nothing, like the river gets lost in the +ocean?”</p> + +<p>Hinton glanced at her in surprise, and +<a name="png.177" id="png.177"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">172</span><span class="ns">] + </span>discovered that there was an unusually +thoughtful face under the sweeping brim +of the red hat. The fact that she was +pretty was less evident to him than the +fact that she was wistful. His mood +was sensitive to minor chords.</p> + +<p>“I guess you <em>are</em> eighteen,” he said, +and he smiled, and Guinevere smiled +back, and the chubby gentleman, coming +suddenly out upon them, went in again +and slammed the door.</p> + +<p>The lights on the landing twinkled +brighter and brighter, and presently figures +could be seen moving here and +there. The steamer, grumbling with +every chug of the wheel, was brought +around, and the roustabouts crowded +along the rail, ready to make her fast.</p> + +<p>Guinevere and Hinton stood on the +upper deck under his umbrella and +waited.</p> + +<p>Directly below them on the dock a +small, fantastic figure made frantic efforts +to attract their attention. He +stood uncovered, regardless of the rain, +madly waving his hat.</p> + +<p><a name="png.178" id="png.178"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">173</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Is that anybody you know?” asked +Hinton.</p> + +<p>Guinevere, who was watching the +lights on the water, started guiltily.</p> + +<p>“Where?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Down to the right—that comical little +codger in the checked suit.”</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">Guinevere looked, then turned upon +Hinton eyes that were big with indignation. +“Why, of course,” she said; +“that’s Mr. Opp.”</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.179" id="png.179"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">174</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>XI</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/a-initial.png" + alt="A" title="A" width="156" height="150" /><span>s</span> Willard Hinton stood +on the porch of Your +Hotel and waited for his +host for the night to call +for him, he was in that +state of black dejection +that comes to a young man when Ambition +has proposed to Fortune, and been +emphatically rejected. For six years he +had worked persistently and ceaselessly +toward a given goal, doing clerical work +by day and creative work by night, +going from shorthand into longhand, and +from numerical figures into figures of +speech. For the way that Hinton’s soul +was traveling was the Inky Way, and at +its end lay Authorship.</p> + +<p>Hinton had taken himself and his +work seriously, and served an apprenticeship +of hard study and conscientious +<a name="png.180" id="png.180"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">175</span><span class="ns">] + </span>preparation. So zealous was he, in fact, +that he had arrived at the second stage +of his great enterprise with a teeming +brain, a practised hand, and a pair of +affected eyes over which the oculists +shook their heads and offered little encouragement.</p> + +<p>For four months he had implicitly +obeyed orders, attending only to his +regular work, eating and sleeping with +exemplary regularity, and spending all +of his spare time in the open air. But +the ravages made in the long nights +dedicated to the Muses were not to be so +easily repaired, and his eyes, instead of +improving, were growing rapidly worse. +The question of holding his position had +slipped from a matter of months into +weeks.</p> + +<p>As he stood on the porch, he could +hear the bustle of entertainment going +on within the limited quarters of Your +Hotel. Jimmy Fallows was in his element. +As bartender, head waiter, and +jovial landlord he was playing a triple +bill to a crowded house. Occasionally he +<a name="png.181" id="png.181"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">176</span><span class="ns">] + </span>opened the door and urged Hinton to +come inside.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Opp’ll be here ’fore long,” he +would say. “He’s expecting you, but +he had to stop by to take his girl home. +You better step in and get a julep.”</p> + +<p>But Hinton, wrapped in the gloom of +his own thoughts, preferred to remain +where he was. Already he seemed to +belong to the dark, to be a thing apart +from his fellow-men. He shrank from +companionship and sympathy as he +shrank from the light. He longed to +crawl away like a sick animal into some +lonely corner and die. Whichever way +he turned, the great specter of darkness +loomed before him. At first he had +fought, then he had philosophically stood +still, now he was retreating. Again and +again he told himself that he would meet +it like a man, and again and again he +shrank back, ready to seek escape anywhere, +<ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: + original ends paragraph with a double closing quote">anyhow.</ins></p> + +<p>“O God, if I weren’t so damnably +young!” he cried to himself, beating his +clenched hand against his brow. “More +<a name="png.182" id="png.182"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">177</span><span class="ns">] + </span>than half my life yet to live, and in the +dark!”</p> + +<p>The rattle of wheels and the stopping +of a light in front of the hotel made him +pull himself together.</p> + +<p>The small gentleman in the checked +suit whom he had seen on the wharf +strode in without seeing him. He paused +before he opened the door and smoothed +his scanty locks and rearranged his +pink necktie. Then he drew in his +chin, threw out his chest, and with a +carefully prepared smile of welcome +entered.</p> + +<p>The buzz within increased, and it was +some minutes before the door opened +again and Jimmy Fallows was heard +saying:</p> + +<p>“He’s round here some place. Mr. +Hinton! Oh, here you are! Let me +make you acquainted with Mr. Opp; +he’s going to take you out to his house +for the night.”</p> + +<p>No sooner had Hinton’s hand been released +from Mr. Opp’s cordial grasp +than he felt that gentleman’s arm thrust +<a name="png.183" id="png.183"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">178</span><span class="ns">] + </span>through his, and was aware of being rapidly +conducted down the steps and out to +the vehicle.</p> + +<p>“On no possible account,” Mr. Opp +was saying, with Hinton’s grip in one +hand and two umbrellas in the other, +“would I have allowed myself to be late, +except that it was what you might consider +absolutely necessary. Now, you +get right in; just take all that robe. No, +the grip can go right here between my +feet. We trust that you will not regard +the weather in any ways synonymous +with the state of our feelings of welcome.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Hinton remarked rather shortly +that the weather never mattered to him +one way or another.</p> + +<p>“That’s precisely like myself,” Mr. +Opp went on. “I come of very sturdy, +enduring stock. For a man of my size I +doubt if you’d find a finer constitution +in the country. You wouldn’t particularly +think it to look at me, now would +you?”</p> + +<p>Hinton looked at the small, stooping +<a name="png.184" id="png.184"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">179</span><span class="ns">] + </span>figure, and at the peaked, sallow face, +and said rather sarcastically that he +would not.</p> + +<p>“Strong as an ox,” declared Mr. Opp.</p> + +<p>Just here the horse stumbled, and they +were jerked violently forward.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp apologized. “Just at present +we are having a little difficulty with +our country roads. We have taken the +matter up in ‘The Opp Eagle’ last week. +All these things take time to regulate, +but we are getting there. This oil boom +is going to revolutionize things. It’s +my firm and abiding conviction that we +are on the eve of a great change. It +wouldn’t surprise me in the least if this +town grew to be one of the principalest +cities on the Ohio River.”</p> + +<p>“To be a worthy eyrie for your +‘Eagle’?” suggested Hinton.</p> + +<p>“‘The Opp Eagle,’” corrected Mr. +Opp. “I don’t know as you know that I +am the sole proprietor, as well as being +the editor in addition.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Hinton, “I did not know. +How does it happen that a man with such +<a name="png.185" id="png.185"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">180</span><span class="ns">] + </span>responsibilities can take time to dabble +in oil-wells?”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know me,” said Mr. Opp, +with a paternal smile at his own ability. +“Promoting and organizing comes as +natural to me as breathing the atmosphere. +I am engineering this scheme +with one hand, the Town Improvement +League with another, and ‘The Opp +Eagle’ with another. Then, in a minor +kind of way, I am a active Odd Fellow, +first cornetist in the Unique Orchestra, +and a director in the bank. And beside,” +Mr. Opp concluded with some coyness, +“there is the natural personal social diversions +that most young men indulge +in.”</p> + +<p>By this time they had reached the +gray old house on the river-bank, and +Mr. Opp hitched the horse and held the +lantern, while Hinton stepped from one +stony island to another in the sea of +mud.</p> + +<p>“Just enter right into the dining-room,” +said Mr. Opp, throwing open the +door. “Unfortunately we are having a +<a name="png.186" id="png.186"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">181</span><span class="ns">] + </span>temporary difficulty with the parlor +heating apparatus. If you’ll just pass +right on up-stairs, I’ll show you the +guest-chamber. Be careful of your +head, please!”</p> + +<p>With pomp and dignity Mr. Hinton +was conducted to his apartment, and +urged to make known any possible want +that might occur to him.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be obliged to leave you for a +spell,” said Mr. Opp, “in order to attend +to the proper putting up of the +horse. If you’ll just consider everything +you see as yours, and make yourself +entirely at home, I’ll come up for +you in about twenty minutes.”</p> + +<p>Left alone, Hinton went to the bureau +to pin a paper around the lamp, and as +he did so he encountered a smiling face +in the mirror. The face was undoubtedly +his, but the smile seemed almost to +belong to a stranger, so long had it been +since he had seen it.</p> + +<p>He made a hasty toilet, and sat down +with his back to the light to await his +summons to dinner. The large room, +<a name="png.187" id="png.187"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">182</span><span class="ns">] + </span>poorly and scantily furnished, gave unmistakable +evidence of having been arranged +especially for his coming. There +was no covering on the floor, there were +no pictures on the wall; but the wall-paper +was of a sufficiently decorative +character to warrant the absence of +other adornment. It may be said to +have been a botanical paper, for roses +and lilies and sunflowers and daisies +grew in riotous profusion. The man +who hung the paper evidently was of a +scientific turn, for in matching the strips +he had gained some results in cross-grafting +that approached the miraculous.</p> + +<p>After sufficient time had elapsed to +have stabled half a dozen horses, Hinton, +whose appetite was becoming ravenous, +went into the hall and started down +the steps. When half-way down he +heard a crash of china, and saw his host, +in his shirt-sleeves, staggering under a +large tray overcrowded with dishes.</p> + +<p>Beating a hasty retreat, he went +quietly up the steps again, but not before +he heard a querulous voice remonstrate:</p> + +<p><a name="png.188" id="png.188"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">183</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Now, Mr. D., if you ain’t done busted +two plates and a tea-cup!”</p> + +<p>Retiring to his room until the trouble +should be adjusted, Hinton once more +contemplated the floral paper. As he sat +there, the door creaked slightly, and +looking up, he thought he saw some one +peeping at him through the crack. Later +he distinctly heard the rustle of garments, +a stealthy step, and the closing of +the door across the hall.</p> + +<p>At last Mr. Opp came somewhat noisily +up the steps and, flinging wide the +door, invited him to descend. In the +dining-room below the scene was nothing +short of festal. All the candlesticks +were filled with lighted candles, an +American flag was draped across the top +of the clock, and the little schooner that +rocked behind the pendulum seemed fired +with the determination to get somewhere +to-night if it never did again. Even +the owls on each end of the mantel +wore a benignant look, and seemed +to beam a welcome on the honored +guest.</p> + +<p><a name="png.189" id="png.189"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">184</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>But it was the dining-table that held +the center of the stage, and that held +everything else as well. The dinner, +through its sequence of soup, meat, +salad, and desert, was displayed in +lavish hospitality. Cove etiquette evidently +demanded that no square inch of +the table-cloth should remain unoccupied.</p> + +<p>Seated at the table, with hands demurely +folded, was the most grotesque +figure that Hinton had ever seen. Clad +in a queer, old-fashioned garment of +faded blue cloth, with very full skirt and +flowing sleeves, with her hair gathered +into a tight knot at the back of her head, +and a necklace of nutshells about her +neck, a strange little lady sat and +watched him with parted lips and wide, +excited eyes.</p> + +<p>“If you’ll just sit here opposite my +sister,” said Mr. Opp, not attempting an +introduction, “I’ll as usual take my +customary place at the head of the +board.”</p> + +<p>It was all done with great éclat, but +<a name="png.190" id="png.190"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">185</span><span class="ns">] + </span>from the first there were unmistakable +signs of nervousness on the part of the +host. He left the table twice before the +soup was removed, once to get the napkins +which had been overlooked, and +once to persuade his sister not to put the +baked potatoes in her lap.</p> + +<p>When the critical moment for the trial +of strength between him and the goose +arrived, he was not in good condition. +It was his first wrestling match with a +goose, and his technical knowledge of the +art consisted in the meager fact that the +strategic point was to become master of +the opponent’s legs. The fowl had, +moreover, by nature of its being, the advantage +of extreme slipperiness, an +expedient recognized and made use of by +the gladiators of old.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, limited as to space, and +aware of a critical audience, rose to the +occasion, and with jaw set and the light +of conquest in his eye entered the fray. +He pushed forward, and pulled back, he +throttled, he went through facial and +bodily contortions. The match was +<a name="png.191" id="png.191"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">186</span><span class="ns">] + </span>conducted in “the catch hold, first down to +lose style,” and the honors seemed +equally divided. At last, by the adroit +administration of a left-leg stroke, Mr. +Opp succeeded in throwing his adversary, +but unfortunately he threw it too +far.</p> + +<p>The victory, though brilliant, was not +without its casualties. The goose, in its +post-mortem flight, took its revenge, and +the overturned cranberries sent a crimson +stain across the white cloth, giving +a sanguinary aspect to the scene.</p> + +<p>When order was restored and Mr. Opp +had once more taken his seat, the little +lady in the blue dress, who had remained +quiet during the recent conflict, +suddenly raised her voice in joyous song.</p> + +<p>“Now, Kippy,” warned Mr. Opp, putting +a restraining hand on her arm, and +looking at her appealingly. The little +lady shrank back in her chair and her +eyes filled as she clasped his hand tightly +in both of hers.</p> + +<p>“As I was remarking,” Mr. Opp went +steadily on, trying to behave as if it were +<a name="png.192" id="png.192"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">187</span><span class="ns">] + </span>quite natural for him to eat with his left +hand, “the real value of the underground +product in this country has been +but fairly made apparent, and now that +you capitalists are coming in to take a +hold, there’s no way of forming a idea +of the ultimate result.”</p> + +<p>Hinton, upon whom no phase of the +situation had been lost, came valiantly +to Mr. Opp’s rescue. He roused himself +to follow his host’s lead in the conversation; +he was apparently oblivious +to the many irregularities of the dinner. +In fact, it was one of the rare occasions +upon which Hinton took the trouble to +exert himself. Something in the dreary +old room, with its brave attempt at +cheer, in the half-witted little lady who +was making such superhuman efforts to +be good, and above all in the bombastic, +egotistical, ignorant editor who was trying +to keep up appearances against such +heavy odds, touched the best and deepest +that was in Hinton, and lifted him out of +himself. Gradually he began to take the +lead in the conversation. With great tact +<a name="png.193" id="png.193"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">188</span><span class="ns">] + </span>he relieved Mr. Opp of the necessity of +entertaining, and gave him a chance to +eat his dinner. He told stories so simple +that even Miss Kippy loosened her hold +on her brother’s hand to listen.</p> + +<p>When the sunset of the dinner in the +form of a pumpkin pie had disappeared, +the gentlemen retired to the fire.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you smoke?” asked Hinton, +holding a match to his pipe.</p> + +<p>“Why, yes,” said Mr. Opp, “I have +smoked occasional. It’s amazing how it +assists you in creating newspaper articles. +One of the greatest editorials I +ever turned out was when I had a cigar +in my mouth.”</p> + +<p>“Then why don’t you smoke?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp glanced over his shoulders at +Aunt Tish, who, with Miss Kippy’s +doubtful assistance, was clearing the +table.</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind telling you,” he said +confidentially, “that up to the present +time I’ve experienced a good many business +reverses and considerable family +responsibility. I hope now in a year or +<a name="png.194" id="png.194"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">189</span><span class="ns">] + </span>two to be able to indulge them little extra +items. The lack of money,” he added +somewhat proudly, “is no disgrace; but +I can’t deny it’s what you might call +limiting.”</p> + +<p>Hinton smiled. “I think I’ve got a +cigar somewhere about me. Here it is. +Will you try it?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp didn’t care if he did, and +from the manner in which he lighted it, +and from the way in which he stood, +with one elbow on the high mantel-shelf +and his feet gracefully crossed, while he +blew curling wreaths toward the ceiling, +it was not difficult to reckon the extent +of his self-denial.</p> + +<p>“Do you indulge much in the pleasure +of reading?” he asked, looking at Hinton +through the cloud of smoke.</p> + +<p>“I did,” said Hinton, drawing a deep +breath.</p> + +<p>“It’s a great pastime,” said Mr. Opp. +“I wonder if you are familiar with this +here volume.” He took from the shelf +“The Encyclopedia of Wonder, Beauty, +and Wisdom.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.195" id="png.195"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">190</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Hardly a thumb-nail edition,” said +Hinton, receiving it with both hands.</p> + +<p>“Say, it’s a remarkable work,” said +Mr. Opp, earnestly; “you ought to get +yourself one. Facts in the first part, and +the prettiest poetry you ever read in the +back: a dollar down and fifty cents a +month until paid for. Here, let me show +you; read that <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: + original lacks closing quote">one.”</ins></p> + +<p>“I can’t see it,” said Hinton.</p> + +<p>“I’ll get the lamp.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind, Opp; it isn’t that. You +read it to me.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp complied with great pleasure, +and having once started, he found it +difficult to stop. From “Lord Ullin’s +Daughter” he passed to “Curfew,” +hence to “Barbara Frietchie” and +“Young Lochinvar,” and as he read +Hinton sat with closed eyes and traveled +into the past.</p> + +<p>He saw a country school-house, and +himself a youngster of eight competing +for a prize. He was standing on a platform, +and the children were below him, +and behind him was a row of visitors. +<a name="png.196" id="png.196"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">191</span><span class="ns">] + </span>He was paralyzed with fear, but bursting +with ambition. With one supreme effort +he began his speech:</p> + +<div class="quote"> +<div class="poem"> +<div>Oh, the young Lochinvar has came out of the + west!</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>He got no further; a shout from the +big boys and a word from the teacher, +and he burst into tears and fled for +refuge to his mother. How the lines +brought it all back! He could feel her +arms about him now, and her cheek +against his, and hear again her words of +comfort. In all the years since she had +been taken from him he had never +wanted her so insistently as during those +few moments that Mr. Opp’s high voice +was doing its worst for the long-suffering +Lochinvar.</p> + +<p>“Mr. D.,” said a complaining voice +from the doorway, “Miss Kippy won’t +lemme tek her dress off to go to baid. +She ’low she gwine sleep in hit.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp abruptly descended from his +elocutionary flight, and asked to be excused +for a few moments.</p> + +<p><a name="png.197" id="png.197"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">192</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Just a little domestic friction,” he +assured Hinton; “you can glance over +the rest of the poems, and I’ll be back +soon.”</p> + +<p>Hinton, left alone, paced restlessly up +and down the room. The temporary diversion +was over, and he was once more +face to face with his problem. He went +to the table, and, taking a note from his +pocket, bent over the lamp to read it. +The lines blurred and ran together, but a +word here and there recalled the contents. +It was from Mr. Mathews, who +preferred writing disagreeable things to +saying them. Mr. Mathews, the note +said, had been greatly annoyed recently +by repeated errors in the reports of his +secretary; he was neither as rapid nor as +accurate as formerly, and an improvement +would have to be made, or a change +would be deemed advisable.</p> + +<p>“Delicate tact!” sneered Hinton, +crushing the paper in his hand. “Courtesy +sometimes begets a request, and the +shark shrinks from conferring favors. +And I’ve got to stick it out, to go on +<a name="png.198" id="png.198"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">193</span><span class="ns">] + </span>accepting condescending disapproval +until a ‘change is deemed advisable.’”</p> + +<p>He dropped his head on his arms, and +so deep was he in his bitter thoughts +that he did not hear Mr. Opp come into +the room. That gentleman stood for a +moment in great embarrassment; then he +stepped noiselessly out, and heralded his +second coming by rattling the door-knob.</p> + +<p>The wind had risen to a gale, and it +shrieked about the old house and tugged +at the shutters and rattled the panes incessantly.</p> + +<p>“You take the big chair,” urged Mr. +Opp, who had just put on a fresh log and +sent the flames dancing up the chimney; +“and here’s a pitcher of hard cider +whenever you feel the need of a little refreshment. +You ain’t a married man I +would judge, Mr. Hinton.”</p> + +<p>“Thank the Lord, no!” exclaimed +Hinton.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Opp, pursing his +lips and smiling, “you know that’s +just where I think us young men are +making a mistake.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.199" id="png.199"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">194</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Matrimony,” said Hinton, “is about +the only catastrophe that hasn’t befallen +me during my short and rocky career.”</p> + +<p>“See here,” said Mr. Opp, “I used to +feel that way, too.”</p> + +<p>“Before you met her?” suggested +Hinton.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp looked pleased but embarrassed. +“I can’t deny there is a young +lady,” he said; “but she is quite young +as yet. In fact, I don’t mind telling you +she’s just about half my age.”</p> + +<p>Hinton, instead of putting two and two +together, added eighteen to eighteen. +“And you are about thirty-six?” he +asked.</p> + +<p>“Exactly,” said Mr. Opp, surprised. +“I am most generally considered a long +sight younger.”</p> + +<p>From matrimony the conversation +drifted to oil-wells, then to journalism, +and finally to a philosophical discussion +of life itself. Mr. Opp got beyond his +depth again and again, and at times he +became so absorbed that he gave a very +poor imitation of himself, and showed +<a name="png.200" id="png.200"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">195</span><span class="ns">] + </span>signs of humility that were rarely if +ever visible.</p> + +<p>Hinton meantime was taking soundings, +and sometimes his plummet +stopped where it started, and sometimes +it dropped to an unexpected depth.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he said at last, rising, “we +must go to bed. You’ll go on climbing a +ladder in the air, and I’ll go on burrowing +like a mole in the ground, and +what is the good of it all? What chance +have either of us for coming out anywhere? +You can fool yourself; I can’t: +that’s the difference.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp’s unusual mental exertions +had apparently affected his entire body, +his legs were tightly wrapped about each +other, his arms were locked, and his features +were drawn into an amazing +pucker of protest.</p> + +<p>“That ain’t it,” he said emphatically, +struggling valiantly to express his conviction: +“this here life business ain’t +run on any such small scale as that. According +to my notion, or understanding, +it’s—well—what you might call, in military +<a name="png.201" id="png.201"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">196</span><span class="ns">] + </span>figures, a fight.” He paused a +moment and tied himself if possible even +into a tighter knot, then proceeded +slowly, groping his way: “Of course +there’s some that just remains around +in camp, afraid to fight and afraid to +desert, just sort of indulging in conversation, +you might say, about the rest of +the army. Then there is the cowards +and deserters. But a decent sort of +a individual, or rather soldier, carries +his orders around with him, and the +chief and principal thing he’s got to do +is to follow them. What the fight is concerning, +or in what manner the general +is a-aiming to bring it all correct in the +end, ain’t, according to my conclusion, +a particle of our business.”</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">Having arrived at this point of the +discussion in a somewhat heated and indignant +state, Mr. Opp suddenly remembered +his duties as host. With a lordly +wave of the hand he dismissed the subject, +and conducted Hinton in state to +his bed-chamber, where he insisted upon +lighting the fire and arranging the bed.</p> + +<p class="illus pgbrk"><a name="png.202" id="png.202"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">197</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img src="images/illus202.jpg" width="450" height="733" + alt="" title="" /><br + />“It was Mr. Opp saying his prayers”</p> + +<p><a name="png.204" id="png.204"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">199</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Hinton sat for a long time before undressing, +listening to the wind in the +chimney, to the scrape, scrape of the +cedar on the roof, and to the yet more +dismal sounds that were echoing in his +heart. Everything about the old house +spoke of degeneration, decay; yet in the +midst of it lived a man who asked no +odds of life, who took what came, and +who lived with a zest, an abandon, a +courage that were baffling. Self-deception, +egotism, cheap optimism—could +they bring a man to this state of mind? +Hinton wondered bitterly what Opp +would do in his position; suppose his +sight was threatened, how far would his +foolish self-delusion serve him then?</p> + +<p>But he could not imagine Mr. Opp, +lame, halt, or blind, giving up the fight. +There was that in the man—egotism, +courage, whatever it was—that would +never recognize defeat, that quality that +wins out of a life of losing the final victory.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">Before he retired, Hinton found there +was no drinking water in his room, and, +<a name="png.205" id="png.205"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">200</span><span class="ns">] + </span>remembering a pitcher full in the dining-room, +he took the candle and softly +opened his door. The sudden cold draft +from the hall made the candle flare, but +as it steadied, Hinton saw that an old +cot had been placed across the door opposite +his, as if on guard, and that beside +it knelt an ungainly figure in white, with +his head clasped in his hands. It was +Mr. Opp saying his prayers.</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.206" id="png.206"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">201</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>XII</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/t-initial.png" + alt="T" title="T" width="149" height="150" /><span>he</span> visit of the capitalists +marked the beginning of +a long and profitable +spell of insomnia for the +Cove. The little town +had gotten a gnat in its +eye when Mr. Opp arrived, and now that +it had become involved in a speculation +that threatened to develop into a boom, +it found sleep and tranquillity a thing of +the past.</p> + +<p>The party of investigators had found +such remarkable conditions that they +were eager to buy up the ground at once; +but they met with unexpected opposition.</p> + +<p>At a meeting which will go down to +posterity in the annals of Cove City, the +Turtle Creek Land Company, piloted by +the intrepid Mr. Opp, had held its course +<a name="png.207" id="png.207"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">202</span><span class="ns">] + </span>against persuasion, threats, and bribes. +There was but one plank in the company’s +platform, and that was a determination +not to sell. To this plank they +clung through the storm of opposition, +through the trying calm of indifference +that followed, until a truce was declared.</p> + +<p>Finally an agreement was reached by +which the Turtle Creek Land Company +was to lease its ground to the capitalists, +receive a given per cent. of the oil produced, +and maintain the right to buy +stock up to a large and impossible +amount at any time during the ensuing +year.</p> + +<p>Close upon this contract came men and +machinery to open up a test well. For +weeks hauling was done up the creek bottom, +there being no road leading to the +oil spring where the first drilling was to +be done.</p> + +<p>The town watched the operations with +alternate scorn and interest. It was facetious +when water and quicksands were +encountered, and inclined to be sarcastic +when work was suspended on account of +<a name="png.208" id="png.208"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">203</span><span class="ns">] + </span>the weather. But one day, after the pipe +had been driven to a considerable depth +and the rock below had been drilled for +six inches, the drill suddenly fell into a +crevice, and upon investigation the hole +was found to be nearly full of petroleum.</p> + +<p>The Cove promptly went into a state +of acute hysteria. Speculation spread +like the measles, breaking out in all manner +of queer and unexpected places. +Everybody who could command a dollar +promptly converted it into oil stock. +Miss Jim Fenton borrowed money from +her cousin in the city, and plunged recklessly; +the Missionary Band raffled off +three quilts and bought a share with the +proceeds; Mr. Tucker foreclosed two +mortgages on life-long friends in order +to raise more money; while the amount +of stock purchased by Mr. D. Webster +Opp was limited only by his credit at the +bank.</p> + +<p>The one note of warning that was +sounded came from Mrs. Fallows, who +sat on the porch of Your Hotel, and, like +the Greek Chorus, foretold the disasters +<a name="png.209" id="png.209"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">204</span><span class="ns">] + </span>that would befall, and prophesied nothing +but evil for the entire enterprise. +Even the urbane Jimmy became ruffled +by her insistent iteration, and declared +that she “put him in mind of a darned +old whip-o’-will.”</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Fallows’s piping note was +lost in the gale of enthusiasm. Farmers +coming into town on Saturday became +infected and carried the fever into the +country. The entire community suspended +business to discuss the exciting +situation.</p> + +<p>These were champagne days for Mr. +Opp. Life seemed one long, sparkling, +tingling draft and he was drinking it to +Guinevere. If her eyes drooped and she +met his smile with a sigh, he saw it not, +for the elixir had gone to his head.</p> + +<p>Compelled to find some outlet for his +energy, he took advantage of the Cove’s +unwonted animation and plunged into +municipal reform. “The Opp Eagle” +demanded streets, it demanded lamp-posts, +it demanded temperance. The +right of pigs to take their daily siesta in +<a name="png.210" id="png.210"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">205</span><span class="ns">] + </span>the middle of Main Street was questioned +and fiercely denied. Dry-goods +boxes, which for years had been the only +visible means of support for divers +youths of indolent nature, were held up +to such scathing ridicule that the owners +were forced to remove them.</p> + +<p>The policies suggested by Mr. Opp, the +editor, were promptly acted upon by Mr. +Opp, the citizen. So indignant did he +become when he read his own editorials +that nothing short of immediate action +was to be considered. He arranged a +reform party and appointed himself +leader. Mat Lucas, he made Superintendent +of Streets; Mr. Gallop, chairman +of the Committee on City Lights. In +fact, he formed enough committees to +manage a Presidential campaign.</p> + +<p>The attitude of the town toward him +was that of a large lump of dough to a +small cake of yeast. It was willing to +be raised, but doubtful of the motive +power.</p> + +<p>“I’d feel surer,” said Jimmy Fallows, +“if his intellect was the standard +<a name="png.211" id="png.211"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">206</span><span class="ns">] + </span>size. It appears so big to him he can’t +get his language ready-made; he has to +have it made to order.”</p> + +<p>But since the successful management +of the oil-wells, Mr. Opp’s opinion was +more and more considered. In the +course of a short time the office of “The +Opp Eagle” became the hub about which +the township revolved.</p> + +<p>One afternoon in March the editor was +sitting before his deal table, apparently +in the most violent throes of editorial +composition.</p> + +<p>Nick, who was impatiently waiting for +copy, had not dared to speak for an hour, +for fear of slipping a cog in the intricate +machinery of creation. The constant +struggle to supply “The Opp Eagle” +with sufficient material to enable it to fly +every Thursday was telling upon the +staff; he was becoming irritable.</p> + +<p>“Well?” he said impatiently, as Mr. +Opp finished the tenth page and gathered +the large sheets into his hand.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, to be sure,” said Mr. Opp, +guiltily; “I am at your disposal. Just +<a name="png.212" id="png.212"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">207</span><span class="ns">] + </span>finishing a little private correspondence +of a personal nature that couldn’t wait +over.”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t that copy?” demanded Nick, +fixing him with an indignant eye.</p> + +<p>“Well, no,” said Mr. Opp, uneasily. +“The fact is, I haven’t been able to accomplish +any regular editorial this week. +Unusual pressure of outside business +and—er—”</p> + +<p>“How long is she going to stay down +in Coreyville?” Nick asked, with a contemptuous +curl of his lip.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp paused in the act of addressing +the envelop, and gave Nick a look +that was designed to scorch.</p> + +<p>“May I inquire to who you refer?” +he asked with dignity.</p> + +<p>Nick’s eyes dropped, and he shuffled +his feet. “I just wanted to put it in the +paper. We got to fill up with something.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Opp, slightly conciliated, +“you can mention that she has +gone back to attend the spring term at +the Young Ladies’ Seminary.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.213" id="png.213"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">208</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Gone back to school again?” exclaimed +Nick, unable to control his curiosity. +“What for?”</p> + +<p>“To attend the spring term,” repeated +Mr. Opp, guardedly. Then he added in +a burst of confidence: “Nick, has it ever +occurred to you that Mrs. Gusty was +what you might term a peculiar woman?”</p> + +<p>But Nick was not interested in the psychological +idiosyncrasies of the Gusty +family. “The Opp Eagle” was crying +for food, and Nick would have sacrificed +himself and his chief to fill the +vacancy.</p> + +<p>“See here, Mr. Opp, do you know what +day it is? It’s Monday, and we’ve got +two columns to fill. New subscriptions +are coming in all the time. We’ve got +to live up to our reputation.”</p> + +<p>“Extremely well put,” agreed Mr. +Opp; “the reputation of the paper must +be guarded above all things. I like to +consider that after my mortal remains +has returned to dust, my name will be +perpetuated in this paper. That no monument +in marble will be necessary, so +<a name="png.214" id="png.214"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">209</span><span class="ns">] + </span>long as ‘The Opp Eagle’ continues to +circulate from home to home, and to promulgate +those—”</p> + +<p>“Can’t you write some of it down?” +suggested Nick; “it would fill up a +couple of paragraphs. Part of it you +used before, but we might change it +around some.”</p> + +<p>“Never,” said Mr. Opp. “On no +consideration would I repeat myself in +print. I’ll just run through my box +here, and see what new material I have. +Here’s something; take it down as I dictate.</p> + +<p>“‘Pastor Joe Tyler is holding divine +service every second Sunday in Cove +City. He has had thirty conversions, +and on Saturday was presented with a +$20.00 suit of clothing from and by this +community, and a barrel of flour, which +fully attests what a general church +awakening will accomplish in the direction +of good. No one should think of +endeavoring to rear their children or redeem +society without the application of +the gospel twice per month.’”</p> + +<p><a name="png.215" id="png.215"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">210</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Now, if you can keep that up,” said +Nick, hopefully, “we’ll get through in +no time.”</p> + +<p>But Mr. Opp had gone back to his +letter, and was trying to decide whether +it would take one stamp or two. When +he felt Nick’s reproachful eye upon him, +he put the envelop resolutely in his +pocket.</p> + +<p>“You’ve already said that work would +be resumed at the oil-wells as early as +the inclemency of the weather would permit, +haven’t you?”</p> + +<p>“We’ve had it in every issue since last +fall,” said Nick.</p> + +<p>“Well, now, let’s see,” said Mr. Opp, +diving once more into his reserve box. +“Here, take this down: ‘Mr. Jet Connor +had his house burnt last month, it being +the second fire he has had in ten years. +Misfortunes never come single.’”</p> + +<p>“All right,” encouraged Nick. “Now +can’t you work up that idea about the +paper offering a prize?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp seized his brow firmly between +his palms and made an heroic effort +<a name="png.216" id="png.216"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">211</span><span class="ns">] + </span> to concentrate his mind upon the +business at hand.</p> + +<p>“Just wait a minute till I get it arranged. +Now write this: ‘“The Opp +Eagle” has organized a club called the +B.B.B. Club, meaning the Busy Bottle-Breakers +Club. A handsome prize of a +valued nature will be awarded the boy or +girl which breaks the largest number +of whisky and beer bottles before the +first of May.’ The boats to Coreyville +run different on Sunday, don’t they, +Nick?”</p> + +<p>Nick, who had unquestioningly taken +the dictation until he reached his own +name, glanced up quickly, then threw +down his pen and sighed.</p> + +<p>“I’m going up to Mr. Gallop’s,” he +said in desperation; “he’s got his mind +on things here in town. I’ll see what he +can do for me.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp remorsefully allowed him to +depart, and gazed somewhat guiltily at +the unaccomplished work before him. +But instead of making reparation for +recent delinquency, he proceeded to +<a name="png.217" id="png.217"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">212</span><span class="ns">] + </span>make even further inroads into the time +that belonged to “The Opp Eagle.”</p> + +<p>Moving stealthily to the door, he +locked it, then pulled down the shade +until only a strip of light fell across his +table. These precautions having been +observed, he took from his pocket a number +of letters, and, separating a large +typewritten one from several small blue +ones, arranged the latter in a row before +him according to their dates, and proceeded, +with evident satisfaction, to read +them through twice. Then glancing +around to make quite sure that no one +had crawled through the key-hole, he +unlocked a drawer, and took out a key +which in turn unlocked a box from which +he carefully took a small object, and contemplated +it with undisguised admiration.</p> + +<p>It was an amethyst ring, and in the +center of the stone was set a pearl. He +held it in the narrow strip of light, and +read the inscription engraved within: +“Guinevere forever.”</p> + +<p>For Miss Guinevere Gusty, ever plastic +<a name="png.218" id="png.218"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">213</span><span class="ns">] + </span>to a stronger will, had succumbed to +the potent combination of absence and +ardor, and given her half-hearted consent +for Mr. Opp to speak to her mother. +Upon that lady’s unqualified approval +everything would depend.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp had received the letter a week +ago, and he had immediately written to +the city for a jeweler’s circular, made his +selection, and received the ring. He had +written eight voluminous and eloquent +epistles to Guinevere, but he had not yet +found the propitious moment in which to +call upon Mrs. Gusty. Every time he +started, imperative business called him +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>As he sat turning the stone in the sunlight +and admiring every detail, the conviction +oppressed him that he could no +longer find any excuse for delay. But +even as he made the decision to face the +ordeal, his eye involuntarily swept the +desk for even a momentary reprieve. +The large typewritten letter arrested +his attention; he took it up and reread +it.</p> + +<div class="quote"> +<p><a name="png.219" id="png.219"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">214</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><span class="smc">Dear Opp</span>: Do you know any nice, comfortable +place in your neighborhood for a man +to go blind in? I’ll be in the hospital for another +month, and after that I am to spend the +summer out of doors, in joyful anticipation of +an operation which I am assured beforehand +will probably be unsuccessful. Under the +peculiar circumstances I am not particular +about the scenery, human or natural; the +whole affair resolves itself into a matter of flies +and feather-beds. If you know of any place +where I can be reasonably comfortable, I wish +you’d drop me a line. The ideal place for me +would be a neat pine box underground, with a +dainty bunch of daisies overhead.</p> + +<p class="yours">Yours gratefully,</p> + +<p class="sign"><span class="smc">Willard Hinton.</span></p> + +<p class="noindent">P.S. I sent you a box of my books last week. +Chuck out what you don’t want. The candy +was for your sister.</p> + +</div> + + +<p>Mr. Opp, with the letter still in his +hand, suddenly saw a way out of his +difficulty: he would make Hinton’s request +an excuse for a call upon Mrs. +<a name="png.220" id="png.220"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">215</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Gusty. No surer road to her good +graces could he travel than by seeking +her advice.</p> + +<p>Replacing the ring in the drawer and +the letters in his pocket, he buttoned up +his coat, and with a stern look of determination +went out of the office. At the +Gusty gate he encountered Val, who was +on all fours by the fence, searching for +something.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter, Val?” asked Mr. +Opp. “Lost something?”</p> + +<p>Val raised a pair of mournful eyes. +“Yas, sir; you bet I is. Done lost a +penny Mr. Jimmy Fallows gimme for +puttin’ my fisty in my mouf.”</p> + +<p>“Putting your fist in your mouth!” +repeated Mr. Opp, surprised. “Can you +perform that act?”</p> + +<p>Val promptly demonstrated; but just +as he was midway, a peremptory voice +called from a rear window:</p> + +<p>“Val! You Val! You better answer +me this minute!”</p> + +<p>Val cowered lower behind the fence, +and violently motioned Mr. Opp to go on.</p> + +<p><a name="png.221" id="png.221"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">216</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Is—er—is Mrs. Gusty feeling well +to-day?” asked Mr. Opp, still lingering +at the gate.</p> + +<p>“Jes tolerable,” said Val, lying flat on +his back and speaking in guarded tones. +“Whenever she gits to beatin’ de carpets, +an’ spankin’ de beds, and shakin’ +de curtains, I keeps outen de way.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think—er—that—er—I better +go in?” asked Mr. Opp, sorely in +need of moral support.</p> + +<p>“Yas, sir; she’s ’spectin’ yer.”</p> + +<p>This surprising announcement nerved +Mr. Opp to open the gate.</p> + +<p>It is said that the best-drilled soldiers +dodge when they first face the firing-line, +and if Mr. Opp’s knees smote together +and his body became bathed in profuse +perspiration, it should not be attributed +to lack of manly courage.</p> + +<p>In response to his knock, Mrs. Gusty +herself opened the door. The signs that +she had been interrupted in the midst of +her toilet were so unmistakable that Mr. +Opp promptly averted his eyes. A shawl +had been hastily drawn about her shoulders, +<a name="png.222" id="png.222"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">217</span><span class="ns">] + </span>on one cheek a streak of chalk +awaited distribution, and a single bristling +curl-paper, rising fiercely from the +top of her forehead, gave her the appearance +of a startled unicorn.</p> + +<p>“You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Opp,” +she said firmly, putting the door between +them. “I can’t come out, and you can’t +come in. Did you want anything?”</p> + +<p>“Well, yes,” said Mr. Opp, looking +helplessly at the blank door. “You see, +there is a matter I have been considering +discussing with you for a number of +weeks. It’s a—”</p> + +<p>“If it’s waited this long, I should think +it could wait till to-morrow,” announced +the lady with decision.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp felt that his courage could +never again stand the strain of the last +few moments. He must speak now or +never.</p> + +<p>“It’s immediate,” he managed to gasp +out. “If you could arrange to give me +five or ten minutes, I won’t occupy more +than that.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gusty considered. “I am looking +<a name="png.223" id="png.223"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">218</span><span class="ns">] + </span>for company myself at five o’clock. +That wouldn’t give you much time.”</p> + +<p>“Ample,” urged Mr. Opp; “it’s just +a little necessary transaction, as it +were.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gusty reluctantly consented.</p> + +<p>“You go on in the parlor, then,” she +said. “I’ll be in as quick as I can. You +won’t more than have time to get started, +though.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp passed into the parlor and +hung his hat on the corner of a large, unframed +canvas that stood on the floor +with its face to the wall. The room had +evidently been prepared for a visitor, for +a fire was newly kindled and a vase of +flowers adorned the table. But Mr. Opp +was not making observations. He alternately +warmed his cold hands at the fire, +and fanned his flushed face with his +handkerchief. He was too nervous to +sit still, yet his knees trembled when he +moved about. It was only when he +touched the little packet of letters in +his breast pocket that his courage revived.</p> + +<p><a name="png.224" id="png.224"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">219</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>At last Mrs. Gusty came in with a +rustle of garments suggestive of Sunday. +Even in his confusion Mr. Opp +was aware that there was something unusual +in her appearance. Her hair, ordinarily +drawn taut to a prim knot at the +rear, had burst forth into curls and puffs +of an amazing complexity. Moreover, +her change of coiffure had apparently +affected her spirits, for she, too, was +flurried and self-conscious and glanced +continually at the clock on the mantel.</p> + +<p>“I’ll endeavor not to intrude long on +your time,” began Mr. Opp, politely, +when they were seated side by side on +the horse-hair sofa. “You—er—can’t +be in total ignorance of the subject that—er—I +mean to bring forward.” He +moistened his lips, and glanced at her for +succor, but she was adamant. “I want +to speak with you,” he plunged on desperately—“that +is, I thought I had better +talk with you about Mr. Hinton.”</p> + +<p>“Who?” blazed forth Mrs. Gusty in +indignant surprise.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Hinton,” said Mr. Opp, breathlessly, +<a name="png.225" id="png.225"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">220</span><span class="ns">] + </span>“a young friendly acquaintance +of mine. Wants to get board for the +summer, you know; would like a nice, +quiet place and all that, Mrs. Gusty. I +thought I’d consult you about it, Mrs. +Gusty, if you don’t mind.”</p> + +<p>She calmly fixed one eye upon him +and one upon the clock while he went +into particulars concerning Mr. Hinton. +When he paused for breath, she folded +her arms and said:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Opp, if you want to say what +you come to say, you haven’t got but +four minutes to do it in.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” said Mr. Opp, gratefully, +but helplessly; “I was just coming to +that point. It’s a matter—that—er—well +you might say it is in a way pertaining—to—”</p> + +<p>“Guin-never!” snapped Mrs. Gusty, +unable longer to stand his hesitation. +“I’d have been a deaf-mute and a fool +to boot not to have known it long ago. +Not that I’ve been consulted in the matter.” +She lifted a stiffened chin, and +turned her gaze upward.</p> + +<p><a name="png.226" id="png.226"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">221</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“You have,” declared Mr. Opp, earnestly; +“that is, you will be. Everything +is pending on you. There has been +no steps whatever taken by Miss Guinnever +or I—rather I might say by her. I +can’t say but what I have made some +slight preliminary arrangements.” He +paused, then went on anxiously: “I trust +there ain’t any personal objections to +the case.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gusty made folds in her black-silk +skirt and creased them down with +her thumb-nail. “No,” she said shortly; +“far as I can see, Guin-never would be +doing mighty well to get you. You’d be +a long sight safer than a good-looking +young fellow. Of course a man being so +much older than a girl is apt to leave her +a widow. But, for my part, I believe in +second marriages.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp felt as if he had received a +hot and cold douche at the same time; +but the result was a glow.</p> + +<p>“Then you don’t oppose it, Mrs. +Gusty,” he cried eagerly. “You’ll write +her you are willing?”</p> + +<p><a name="png.227" id="png.227"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">222</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Not yet,” said Mrs. Gusty; “there’s +a condition.”</p> + +<p>“There ain’t any condition in the +world I won’t meet to get her,” he exclaimed +recklessly, his fervor bursting +its bounds. “You don’t know how I feel +about that young lady. Why, I’d live +on bread and water all the rest of my +life if it would make her happy. There +hasn’t been a hour since I met her that +she hasn’t held my soul—as you might +say—in the pa’m of her hand.”</p> + +<p>“People don’t often get it so bad at +our age,” remarked Mrs. Gusty, sarcastically, +and Mr. Opp winced.</p> + +<p>“The condition,” went on Mrs. Gusty, +“that I spoke about, was your sister. Of +course I never would consent to Guin-never +living under the same roof with a +crazy person.”</p> + +<p>The hope which was carrying Mr. +Opp to the dizziest heights dropped to +earth at this unexpected shaft, and for a +moment he was too stunned to speak.</p> + +<p>“Kippy?” he began at last, and his +voice softened at the name. “Why, you +<a name="png.228" id="png.228"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">223</span><span class="ns">] + </span>don’t understand about her. She’s just +similar to a little child. I told Miss +Guin-never all about her; she never +made any objections. You—you—wouldn’t +ask me to make any promises +along that line?” Abject entreaty shone +from Mr. Opp’s eyes; it was a plea for +a change of sentence. She had asked +of him the only sacrifice in the world at +which he would have faltered. “Don’t—don’t +put it like that!” he pleaded, +laying his hand on her arm in his earnestness. +“I’m all she’s got in the +world; I’ve kind of become familiar +with her ways, you know, and can manage +her. She’ll love Miss Guin-never +if I tell her to. She shan’t be a bit of +care or trouble; I and Aunt Tish will +continue on doing everything for her. +You won’t refuse your consent on that +account, will you? You’ll promise to +say yes, now won’t you, Mrs. Gusty?”</p> + +<p>A slight and ominous cough in the +doorway caused them both to start. Mr. +Tucker, in widower’s weeds, but with a +jonquil jauntily thrust through his buttonhole, +<a name="png.229" id="png.229"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">224</span><span class="ns">] + </span>stood with his hand still on the +knob, evidently transfixed by the scene +he had witnessed.</p> + +<p>For a moment the company was enveloped +in a fog of such dense embarrassment +that all conversation was +suspended. Mrs. Gusty was the first to +emerge.</p> + +<p>“Howdy, Mr. Tucker,” she said, rustling +forward in welcome. “I didn’t +think you’d get here before five. Mr. +Opp just dropped in to consult me about—about +boarding a friend of his. Won’t +you draw up to the fire?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Tucker edged forward with a suspicious +eye turned upon Mr. Opp, who was +nervously searching about for his hat.</p> + +<p>“There it is, by the door,” said Mrs. +Gusty, eager to speed his departure; and +as they both reached for it, the picture +upon which it hung toppled forward and +fell, face upward, on the floor. It was +the portrait of Mr. Tucker mourning +under the willow-tree which Miss Jim +had left with Mrs. Gusty for safe-keeping.</p> + +<p><a name="png.230" id="png.230"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">225</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Mr. Opp went home across the fields +that evening instead of through the +town. He was not quite up to any of his +rôles—editor, promoter, or reformer. +In fact, he felt a desperate need of a brief +respite from all histrionic duties. A reaction +had set in from the excitement of +the past week, and the complication involved +in Mrs. Gusty’s condition puzzled +and distressed him. Of course, he +assured himself repeatedly, there was a +way out of the difficulty; but he was not +able to find it just yet. He had observed +that Mrs. Gusty’s opinions became fixed +convictions under the slightest opposition, +whereas Guinevere’s firmest decision +trembled at a breath of disapproval. +He sighed deeply as he meditated upon +the vagaries of the feminine mind.</p> + +<p>Overhead the bare trees lifted a network +of twigs against a dull sky, a cold +wind stirred the sedge grass, and fluttered +the dry leaves that had lain all +winter in the fence corners. Everything +looked old and worn and gray, even Mr. +Opp, as he leaned against a gaunt, white +<a name="png.231" id="png.231"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">226</span><span class="ns">] + </span>sycamore, his head bent, and his brows +drawn, wrestling with his problem.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he lifted his head and listened, +then he smiled. In the tree above +him a soft but animated conversation +was in progress. A few daring birds +had braved the cold and the wind, and +had ventured back to their old trysting-place +to wait for the coming of the +spring. No hint of green had tinged the +earth, but a few, tiny, pink maple-buds +had given the secret away, and the birds +were cuddled snugly together, planning, +in an ecstasy of subdued enthusiasm, for +the joyous days to come.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp listened and understood. +They were all whispering about one +thing, and he wanted to whisper about +it, too. It was the simple theme of love +without variations—love, minus problems, +minus complications, minus consequences. +He took out his little packet of +letters and read them through; then, unmindful +of the chill, he stretched himself +under the tree and listened to the birds +until the twilight silenced them.</p> + +<p><a name="png.232" id="png.232"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">227</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>When he reached home at last, Miss +Kippy met him at the door with a happy +cry of welcome.</p> + +<p>“D.,” she said, with her arm through +his, and her cheek rubbing his sleeve, +“I’ve been good. I’ve let my hair stay +up all day, and Aunt Tish is making me +a long dress like a lady.” She looked at +him shyly and smiled, then she pulled +his head down and whispered, “If I’m +very good, when I grow up, can I marry +Mr. Hinton?”</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">Miss Kippy, too, had been listening to +the bird-song.</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.233" id="png.233"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">228</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>XIII</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/i-initial.png" + alt="I" title="I" width="160" height="150" /><span>t</span> was May when Willard +Hinton arrived at the +Cove and took up his +abode at Mrs. Gusty’s. +For the first week he +kept to his bed, but at +the end of that time he was able to crawl +down to the porch and, under the protection +of dark glasses and a heavy shade, +sit for hours at a time in the sunshine. +The loss of his accustomed environment, +the ennui that ensues from absolute +idleness, the consciousness that the +light was growing dimmer day by day, +combined to plunge him into abysmal +gloom.</p> + +<p>He shrank from speaking to any one, +he scowled at a suggestion of sympathy, +he treated Mr. Opp’s friendly overtures +with open discourtesy. Conceiving himself +on the rack of torture, he set his +<a name="png.234" id="png.234"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">229</span><span class="ns">] + </span>teeth and determined to submit in +silence, but without witnesses.</p> + +<p>One endless day dragged in the wake +of another, and between them lay the +black strips of night that were heavy +with the suggestion of another darkness +pending. When sleep refused to come, +he would go out into the woods and walk +for hours, moody, wretched, and sick to +his innermost soul with loneliness.</p> + +<p>The one thing in the whole dreary +round of existence that roused in him a +spark of interest was his hostess. She +bestowed upon him the same impersonal +attention that she gave her fowls. She +fed him and cared for him and doctored +him as she saw fit, and after these duties +were performed, she left him to himself, +pursuing her own vigorous routine in +her own vigorous way.</p> + +<p>Hinton soon discovered that Mrs. +Gusty was temperamental. Her intensely +energetic nature demanded an +emotional as well as a physical outlet. +Sometime during the course of each day +she indulged in emotional fireworks, +<a name="png.235" id="png.235"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">230</span><span class="ns">] + </span>bombs of anger, rockets of indignation, +or set pieces of sulks and pouts.</p> + +<p>These periodic spells of anger acted +upon her like wine: they warmed her +vitals and exhilarated her; they made +her talk fluently and eloquently. As a +toper will accept any beverage that intoxicates, +so Mrs. Gusty accepted any +cause that would rouse her. At stated +intervals her feelings demanded a stimulant, +and obeying the call of nature, she +went forth and got angry.</p> + +<p>Hinton came to consider these outbursts +as the one diversion in a succession +of monotonous hours. He tabulated +the causes, and made bets with himself +as to the strength and duration of each.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the sun and the wind and +the silence were working their miracle. +Hinton was introduced to nature by a +warlike old rooster whose Hellenic cast +of countenance had suggested the name +of Menelaus. A fierce combat with a +brother-fowl had inevitably recalled the +great fight with Paris, and upon investigation +Hinton found that the speckled +<a name="png.236" id="png.236"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">231</span><span class="ns">] + </span>hen was Helen of Troy! This was but +the beginning of a series of discoveries, +and the result was an animated and +piquant version of Greek history, which +boldly set aside tradition, and suggested +many possibilities heretofore undreamed +of.</p> + +<p>Early one morning as Hinton was +wandering listlessly about the yard he +heard the gate click, and, looking up, +saw Mr. Opp hurrying up the walk with +a large bunch of lilacs in one hand and +a cornet in the other.</p> + +<p>“Good morning,” said that gentleman, +cheerily. “Mighty glad to see you +out enjoying the beauties of nature. I +haven’t got but a moment in which to +stop; appointment at eight-fifteen. We +are arranging for a concert soon up in +Main Street, going to practise this afternoon. +I’ll be glad to call by for you if +you feel able to enjoy some remarkable +fine selections.”</p> + +<p>Hinton accepted the proffered bouquet, +but made a wry face at the invitation.</p> + +<p><a name="png.237" id="png.237"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">232</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“None of your concerts for me,” he +said brusquely. “It would interfere too +seriously with my own musical job of +getting in tune with the infinite.”</p> + +<p>“Mornin’, Mr. Opp,” said Mrs. +Gusty from the dining-room window. +“There ain’t many editors has time to +stand around and talk this time of day.”</p> + +<p>“Just paused a moment in passing,” +said Mr. Opp. “Wanted to see if I +couldn’t induce our young friend here +to give us a’ article for ‘The Opp Eagle.’ +Any nature, you know; we are always +metropolitan in our taste. Thought +maybe he’d tell us some of his first impressions +of our city.”</p> + +<p>Hinton smiled and shook his head. +“You’d better not stir up my impressions +about anything these days; I am +apt to splash mud.”</p> + +<p>“We can stand it,” said Mr. Opp, affably. +“If Cove City needs criticism +and rebuke, ‘The Opp Eagle’ is the vehicle +to administer it. You dictate a few +remarks to my reporter, and I’ll feature +it on the front editorial column.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.238" id="png.238"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">233</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Hinton’s eyes twinkled wickedly behind +his blue glasses. “I’ll give you an +article,” he said, “but no name is to be +signed.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, regretting the stipulation, +but pleased with the promise, was turning +to depart when Mrs. Gusty appeared +once more at the window.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with the oil-wells?” +she demanded, as she dusted off +the sill. “Why don’t they open up? +You can’t use bad weather for an excuse +any longer.”</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t the weather,” said Mr. +Opp, with the confident and superior +manner of one who is conversant with +the entire situation. “This here delay +has been arranged with a purpose. I +and Mr. Mathews has a plan that will +eventually yield every stock-holder in the +Cove six to one for what he put into it.”</p> + +<p>“Intend selling out to a syndicate?” +asked Hinton.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp looked at him in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Well, yes; I don’t mind telling you +two, but it mustn’t go any farther. The +<a name="png.239" id="png.239"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">234</span><span class="ns">] + </span>oil prospects in this region are of such a +great magnitude that we can’t command +sufficient capital to do ’em justice. I +and Mr. Mathews are at present negotiating +with several large concerns with +a view to selling out the entire business +at a large profit. You can’t have any +conception of the tac’ and patience it +takes to manage one of these large +deals.”</p> + +<p>“Who was that man Clark that was +down here last week?” asked Mrs. Gusty, +impressed, in spite of herself, at being +taken into the confidence of such a man +of affairs.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp’s face clouded. “Now that +was a very unfortunate thing about +Clark. He was sent down by the Union +Syndicate of New York city to make a +report on the region, and he didn’t get +the correct ideas in the case at all. If +they hadn’t sent such a poor man, the +whole affair might have been settled by +now.”</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t his report favorable?” +asked Hinton.</p> + +<p><a name="png.240" id="png.240"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">235</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“He hasn’t made it yet,” said Mr. +Opp; “but he let drop sundry casual remarks +to me that showed he wasn’t a +man of fine judgment at all. I went +over the ground with him, and pointed +out some of the places where we calculated +on drilling; but he was so busy +making measurements and taking notes +that he didn’t half hear what I was saying.”</p> + +<p>“He stayed at Our Hotel,” said Mrs. +Gusty. “Mr. Tucker said he had as +mean a face as ever he looked into.”</p> + +<p>“Who said so?” asked Hinton.</p> + +<p>She tossed her head and flipped her +duster at him, but it was evident that she +was not displeased.</p> + +<p>“By the way, Mr. Opp,” she said, +“I’m thinking about letting Guin-never +come home week after next. Guess you +ain’t sorry to hear that.”</p> + +<p>On the contrary, Mr. Opp was overcome +with joy. Letters were becoming +less and less satisfying, and the problem +suggested by Mrs. Gusty was still waiting +solution.</p> + +<p><a name="png.241" id="png.241"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">236</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“If you’ll just mention the date,” he +said, trying to keep his countenance +from expressing an undue amount of +rapture, “I’ll make a business trip +down to Coreyville on purpose to accompany +her back home.”</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Gusty declined to be explicit. +She deemed it unwise to allow a mere +man to know as much as she did upon +any given subject.</p> + +<p>Hinton’s editorial appeared in the +next issue of “The Opp Eagle.” It was +a clever and cutting satire on the impressions +of a foreigner visiting America for +the first time. Hinton interviewed himself +concerning his impressions of the +Cove. He approached the subject with +great seriousness, handling village +trifles as if they were municipal cannon-balls. +He juggled with sense and nonsense, +with form and substance. The result +shot far over the heads of the country +subscribers, and hit the bull’s-eye of a +big city daily.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp’s excitement was intense +when he found that an editorial from +<a name="png.242" id="png.242"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">237</span><span class="ns">] + </span>“The Opp Eagle” had been copied in a +New York paper. The fact that it was +not his own never for a moment dimmed +the glory of the compliment.</p> + +<p>“We are getting notorious,” he said +exultingly to Hinton. “There are few, +if any, papers that in less than a year +has extended its influence as far as the +Atlantic Ocean. Now I am considering +if it wouldn’t be a wise and judicious +thing to get you on the staff permanent—while +you are here, that is. Of course +you understand I am invested up pretty +close; but I’d be willing to let you have +a little of my oil stock in payment for +services.”</p> + +<p>Hinton laughingly shook his head. +“Whenever you run short of material, +you can call on me. The honor of seeing +my humble efforts borne aloft on the +wings of ‘The Opp Eagle’ will be sufficient +reward.”</p> + +<p>Having once conceived it as a favor +that was in his power to bestow, Mr. +Opp lost no opportunity for inviting +contributions from the aspiring author.</p> + +<p><a name="png.243" id="png.243"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">238</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>As Hinton’s strength returned, Mr. +Opp adopted him as a protégé, at first +patronizing him, then consulting him, +and finally frankly appealing to him. +For during the long afternoon walks +which they got into the habit of taking +together, Mr. Opp, in spite of bluster +and brag and evasion, found that he was +constantly being embarrassed by a question, +a reference, a statement from his +young friend. It was the first time +he had ever experienced any difficulty in +keeping his head above the waves of his +own ignorance.</p> + +<p>“You see,” he said one day by way of +explanation, “my genius was never +properly tutored in early youth. It’s +what some might regard as a remarkable +brain that could cope with all the +different varieties of enterprises that I +have engaged in, with no instruction or +guidance but just the natural elements +that God give it in the beginning.”</p> + +<p>But in spite of Mr. Opp’s lenient attitude +toward his intellectual short-comings, +it was evident that upon the serene +<a name="png.244" id="png.244"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">239</span><span class="ns">] + </span>horizon of his egotism small clouds of +humility were threatening to gather.</p> + +<p>Hinton, restlessly seeking for something +to fill the vacuum of his days, +found Mr. Opp and his paper a growing +source of diversion. “The Opp Eagle,” +at first an object of ridicule, gradually +became a point of interest in his limited +range of vision. Under his suggestions +it was enlarged and improved, and +induced to publish news not strictly +local.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, meanwhile, was buzzing as +persistently and ineffectually as a fly on +a window-pane. The night before +Guinevere’s return, he found that, in +order to accomplish all that he was committed +to, it would be necessary to spend +the night at the office.</p> + +<p>The concert for which the Unique Orchestra +had been making night hideous +for two weeks had just come to a successful +close, and the editor found himself +at a late hour tramping out the +lonely road that led to the office with the +prospect of a couple of hours’ work to +<a name="png.245" id="png.245"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">240</span><span class="ns">] + </span>do before he could seek a well-earned +rest upon the office bench.</p> + +<p>He was flushed with his double triumph +as director and cornet soloist, and +still thrilled by the mighty notes he had +breathed into his beloved instrument.</p> + +<p>The violin sobs, the flute complains, +the drum insists, but the cornet brags, +and Mr. Opp found it the instrument +through which he could best express himself.</p> + +<p>It was midnight, and the moon, one +moment shining brightly and the next +lost behind a flying cloud, sent all sorts +of queer shadows scurrying among the +trees. Mr. Opp thought once that he saw +the figure of a man appear and disappear +in the road before him, but he was +so engrossed in joyful anticipation of +the morrow that he gave the incident no +attention. As he was passing the Gusty +house, he was rudely plunged from sentiment +into suspicion by the sight of a +figure stealthily moving along the wall +beneath the front windows.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp crouched behind the fence to +<a name="png.246" id="png.246"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">241</span><span class="ns">] + </span>watch him, but the moon took that inopportune +moment to sink into a bank of +clouds, and the yard was left in darkness. +No sound broke the stillness save +the far-off bark of a dog or an occasional +croak from a bullfrog. Mr. Opp waited +and listened in a state of intense suspense. +Presently he heard the unmistakable +sound of a window being +cautiously raised, and then just as cautiously +lowered. Summoning all his +courage, he skirted the yard and hid in +the bushes near the house. Nothing was +to be seen or heard. He watched for a +light at any of the windows, but none +came.</p> + +<p>The rash desire to capture the burglar +single-handed, and thus distinguish himself +in the eyes of Guinevere’s mother, +caused Mr. Opp to stiffen his knees and +assume a fierce and determined expression. +But he was armed only with his +cornet, which, though often deadly as an +instrument of attack, has never been +recognized as a weapon of defense. +There seemed no alternative but to +<a name="png.247" id="png.247"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">242</span><span class="ns">] + </span>waken Hinton and effect a simultaneous +attack from within and without.</p> + +<p>After throwing a few unsuccessful +pebbles at Hinton’s window, Mr. Opp +remembered a ladder he had seen at the +back of the barnyard. Shaking as if +with the ague, but breathing dauntless +courage, he departed in great excitement +to procure it.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately another party was in +possession. A dozen guinea-fowls were +roosting on the rungs, and when he gave +them to understand they were to vacate +they raised an outcry that would have +quelled the ardor of a less valiant knight.</p> + +<p>But the romantic nature of the adventure +had fired Mr. Opp’s imagination. +He already saw himself lightly dusting +his hands after throttling the intruder, +and smiling away Mrs. Gusty’s solicitude +for his safety. Meanwhile he staggered +back to the house with his burden, +dodging fearfully at every shadow, and +painfully aware that his heart was beating +a tattoo on his ear-drums.</p> + +<p>Placing the ladder as quietly as possible +<a name="png.248" id="png.248"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">243</span><span class="ns">] + </span>under Hinton’s window, he cautiously +began the ascent. The sudden +outburst of the guineas had set his +nerves a-quiver, and what with his +breathless condition, and a predisposition +to giddiness, he found some difficulty +in reaching the sill. When at last +he succeeded, he saw, by the light of the +now refulgent moon, the figure of Hinton +lying across the foot of the bed, +dressed, but asleep. The opening not +being sufficiently large to admit him, he +thrust in his head and whispered +hoarsely through his chattering teeth:</p> + +<p>“Hinton! I say, Hinton, there’s a +burglar in the house!”</p> + +<p>Hinton started up, and stared dully at +the excited apparition.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” whispered Mr. Opp, dramatically, +lifting a warning hand. “I’ve +been tracking the scoundrel for half an +hour. He’s in the house now. We’ll +surround him. We’ll bind him hand +and foot. You get the front door open, +and I’ll meet you on the outside. It’s +all planned; just do as I say.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.249" id="png.249"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">244</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Hinton, who was springing for the +door, paused with his hand on the knob. +“What’s that?”</p> + +<p>It was Mrs. Gusty’s commanding +tones from a front window: “He’s +round at the side of the house. He’s +been after my guineas! I saw him a +minute ago going across the yard with +a ladder. Shoot him if you can. Shoot +him in the leg, so he can’t get away. +Quick! Quick!”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp had only time to turn from +the window when he felt the ladder +seized from below and jerked violently +forward. With a terrific crash he came +down with it, and found himself locked +in a close struggle with the supposed +burglar. To his excited imagination his +adversary seemed a Titan, with sinews +of steel and breath of fire. The combatants +rolled upon the ground and fought +for possession of each other’s throats. +The conflict, while fierce, was brief. +As Hinton and Mrs. Gusty rushed +around the corner of the house, the fighters +shouted in unison, “I’ve got him!” +<a name="png.250" id="png.250"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">245</span><span class="ns">] + </span>and Mr. Opp, opening one swollen eye, +gazed down into the mild but bloody features +of little Mr. Tucker!</p> + +<p>With the instinct that always prompted +him to apologize when any one bumped +into him, he withdrew his hands immediately +from Mr. Tucker’s throat and +began vehement explanations. But Mr. +Tucker still clung to his collar, sputtering +wrathful ejaculations. Mrs. Gusty, +wrapped in a bed-quilt, and with her unicorn +horn at its most ferocious angle, +held the lamp on high while Hinton +rushed between the belligerents.</p> + +<p>Excited and incoherent explanations +followed, and it was not until Mr. Opp, +who was leaning limply against a tree, +regained his breath that the mystery +was cleared up.</p> + +<p>“If you will just listen here at me a +moment,” he implored, holding a handkerchief +to his bruised face. “We are +one and all laboring under a grave error. +It’s my belief that there ain’t any +burglar whatsoever here at present. +Mr. Hinton forgot his key and had to +<a name="png.251" id="png.251"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">246</span><span class="ns">] + </span>climb in the window. I mistaken him +for the burglar, and Mrs. Gusty, here, +from what she relates, mistaken me for +him, and not knowing Mr. Hinton had +come in, telephoned our friend Mr. +Tucker, and me and Mr. Tucker might +be said, in a general way, to have mistaken +each other for him.”</p> + +<p>“A pretty mess to get us all into!” +exclaimed Mrs. Gusty. “A man made +his fortune once ’tending to his own +business.”</p> + +<p>“But, Mrs. Gusty—” began Mr. Opp, +indignantly.</p> + +<p>Hinton interrupted. “You would better +put something on that eye of yours. +It will probably resemble a Whistler +‘Nocturne’ by morning. What are you +looking for?”</p> + +<p>The object lost proved to be Mr. Opp’s +cherished cornet, and the party became +united in a common cause and joined in +the search. Some time elapsed before +the horn was found under the fallen ladder, +having sustained internal injuries +which subsequently proved fatal.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk"><a name="png.252" id="png.252"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">247</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>When dawn crept into the dingy office +of “The Opp Eagle,” the editor was +watching for it. He was waiting to welcome +the day that would bring back +Guinevere. As Hope with blindfold eyes +bends over her harp and listens to the +faint music of her one unbroken string, +so Mr. Opp, with bandaged head, bent +over his damaged horn and plaintively +evoked the only note that was left +therein.</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.253" id="png.253"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">248</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>XIV</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/t-initial.png" + alt="T" title="T" width="149" height="150" /><span>hose</span> who have pursued +the coy goddess of happiness +through the mazes +of the labyrinth of life, +know well how she invites +her victim on from point +to point, only to evade capture at the end. +Mr. Opp rose with each summer dawn, +radiant, confident, and expectant, and +each night he sat in his window with his +knees hunched, and his brows drawn, +and wrestled with that old white-faced +fear.</p> + +<p>Two marauders were harassing the +editor these days, dogging his footsteps, +and snapping at him from ambush. One +was the wolf that howls at the door, and +the other was the monster whose eyes +are green.</p> + +<p><a name="png.254" id="png.254"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">249</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Since the halcyon days that had +wafted Miss Guinevere Gusty back to the +shore of the Cove, Mr. Opp had not +passed a serene hour out of her presence. +His disposition, though impervious +to the repeated shafts of unkind +fortune, was not proof against the corrosive +effect of jealousy.</p> + +<p>If he could have regarded Willard +Hinton in the light of a hated rival, and +met him in fair and open fight, the situation +would have been simplified. But +Hinton was the friend of his bosom, the +man who, he had declared to the town, +“possessed the grandest intelligence he +had ever encountered in a human mind.” +He admired him, he respected him, and, +in direct contradiction to the emotion +that was consuming him, he trusted him.</p> + +<p>Concerning Miss Guinevere Gusty’s +state of mind, Mr. Opp permitted himself +only one opinion. He fiercely denied +that she was absent-minded and listless +when alone with him; he refused to believe +his own eyes when he saw a light +in her face when she looked at Hinton +<a name="png.255" id="png.255"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">250</span><span class="ns">] + </span>that was never there for him. He preferred +to exaggerate to himself her +sweetness, her gentleness, her loyalty, +demanding nothing, and continuing to +give all.</p> + +<p>His entire future happiness, he assured +himself, hung upon the one question +of little Miss Kippy. For four months +the problem had been a matter for daily, +prayerful consideration, but he was still +in the dark.</p> + +<p>When he was with Guinevere the solution +seemed easy. In explaining away +the difficulties to her, he explained them +away to himself, also. It was only a +matter of time, he declared, before the +oil-well would yield rich profit. When +that time arrived, he would maintain +two establishments, the old one for Miss +Kippy, and a new and elegant one for +themselves. Mr. Opp used the hole in +the ground as a telescope through which +he viewed the stars of the future.</p> + +<p>But when he was alone with Kippy, +struggling with her whims, while he tried +to puzzle out the oldest and most universal +<a name="png.256" id="png.256"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">251</span><span class="ns">] + </span>of conundrums,—that of making +ends meet,—the future seemed entirely +blotted out by the great blank wall of +the present.</p> + +<p>The matter was in a way complicated +by the change that had come over Miss +Kippy herself. Two ideas alternately +depressed and elated her. The first was +a fixed antipathy to the photograph of +Miss Guinevere Gusty which Mr. Opp +had incased in a large hand-painted +frame and installed upon his dresser. +At first she sat before it and cried, and +later she hid it and refused for days to +tell where it was. The sight of it made +her so unhappy that Mr. Opp was obliged +to keep it under lock and key. The other +idea produced a different effect. It had +to do with Hinton. Ever since his visit +she had talked of little else. She pretended +that he came to see her every day, +and she spread her doll dishes, and repeated +scraps of his conversation, and +acted over the events of the dinner at +which he had been present. The short +gingham dresses no longer pleased her; +<a name="png.257" id="png.257"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">252</span><span class="ns">] + </span>she wanted long ones, with flowing +sleeves like the blue merino. She tied +her hair up in all manner of fantastic +shapes, and stood before the glass smiling +and talking to herself for hours. +But there were times when her mind +paused for a moment at the normal, and +then she would ask frightened, bewildered +questions, and only Mr. Opp could +soothe and reassure her.</p> + +<p>“D.,” she said one night suddenly, +“how old am I?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, whose entire mental and +physical powers were concentrated upon +an effort to put a new band on his old +hat, was taken off his guard. “Twenty-six,” +he answered absently.</p> + +<p>A little cry brought him to her side.</p> + +<p>“No,” she whispered, shivering away +from him, yet clinging to his sleeve, +“that’s a lady that’s grown up! +Ladies don’t play with dolls. But I want +to be grown up, too. D., why am I different? +I want to be a lady; show me +how to be a lady!”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp gathered her into his arms, +<a name="png.258" id="png.258"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">253</span><span class="ns">] + </span>along with his hat, a pair of scissors, and +a spool of thread.</p> + +<p>“Don’t, Kippy!” he begged. “Now, +don’t cry like that! You are getting on +elegant. Hasn’t brother D. learned you +to read a lot of pieces in your first +reader? And ain’t we going to begin on +handwriting next? Wouldn’t you like +to have a slate, and a sponge to rub out +with?”</p> + +<p>In an instant her mood veered.</p> + +<p>“And a basket?” she cried eagerly. +“The children carry a basket, too. I see +them when I peep through the shutters. +Can I have a basket, too?”</p> + +<p>The network of complexities that was +closing in upon Mr. Opp apparently affected +his body more than his spirits. +He seemed to shrivel and dwindle as the +pressure increased; but the fire in his +eyes shone brighter than before.</p> + +<p>“None of his folks live long over +forty,” said Mrs. Fallows, lugubriously; +“they sorter burn themselves out.”</p> + +<p>Hinton, meanwhile, utterly unaware +of being the partial cause of the seismic +<a name="png.259" id="png.259"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">254</span><span class="ns">] + </span>disturbance in the editorial bosom, pursued +the monotonous routine of his days. +It had taken him only a short time to +adapt himself to the changes that the return +of the daughter of the house had +brought about. He had anticipated her +arrival with the dread a nervous invalid +always feels toward anything that may +jolt him out of his habitual rut. He held +a shuddering remembrance of her musical +accomplishments, and foresaw with +dread the noisy crowd of young people +she might bring about the house.</p> + +<p>But Guinevere had slipped into her +place, an absent-minded, dreamy, detached +damsel, asserting nothing, claiming +nothing, bending like a flower in the +high winds of her mother’s wrath.</p> + +<p>Hinton watched the dominating influence +nip every bud of individuality that +the girl ventured to put forth, and he determined +to interfere. During the long +months he had spent with Mrs. Gusty +he had discovered a way to manage her. +The weak spot in her armor was pride +of intellect; she acknowledged no man +<a name="png.260" id="png.260"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">255</span><span class="ns">] + </span>her superior. By the use of figurative +language, and references to esoteric +matters, he was always able to baffle and +silence her. His joy in handling her in +one of her tempers was similar to that +of controlling a cat-boat in squally +weather. Both experiences redounded +to his masculine supremacy.</p> + +<p>One hot August day, he and Mrs. +Gusty had just had an unusually sharp +round, but he had succeeded, by alternate +compliment and sarcasm, in reducing +her to a very frustrated and baffled condition.</p> + +<p>It was Sunday, the day the Cove +elected for a spiritual wash-day. In +the morning the morals of the community +were scrubbed and rinsed in the +meeting-house, and in the afternoon they +were hung out on the line to dry. The +heads of the families sat in their front +yards and dutifully tended the children, +while their wives flitted from house to +house, visiting the sick and the afflicted, +and administering warnings to the delinquent. +It was a day in which Mrs. +<a name="png.261" id="png.261"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">256</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Gusty’s soul reveled, and she demanded +that Guinevere’s soul should revel likewise.</p> + +<p>It was with the determination that +Guinevere should occasionally be allowed +the privilege of following her own +inclinations that Hinton hurled himself +into the breach.</p> + +<p>“I’ll go, Mother,” said Guinevere; +“but it’s so hot. We went to see everybody +last Sunday. I thought I’d rather +stay home and read, if you didn’t +mind.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gusty tossed her head in disgust, +and turned to Hinton.</p> + +<p>“Now, ain’t that a Gusty for you! I +never saw one that didn’t want to set +down to the job of living. Always +moping around with their nose in a book. +I never was a reader, never remember +wasting a’ hour on a book in my life, and +yet I never saw the time that I wasn’t +able to hold my own with any Gusty +living.”</p> + +<p>“In short,” said Hinton, sympathetically, +“to quote a noted novelist, you +<a name="png.262" id="png.262"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">257</span><span class="ns">] + </span>have never considered it necessary to +add the incident of learning to the accident +of brains.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gusty tied her bonnet-strings in +a firmer knot as she looked at him uncertainly, +then, not deigning to cast another +glance in the direction of her daughter, +who was disappearing up the stairs, +swept out of the house.</p> + +<p>Hinton looked at his watch; it was not +yet two o’clock. The afternoon threatened +to be a foretaste of eternity. He +went out on the porch and lay in the +hammock, with his hands clasped across +his eyes. He could no longer see to read +or to write. The doctor said the darkness +might close in now at any time, +after that the experiment of an operation +would be made, and there was one +chance in a hundred for the partial +restoration of the sight.</p> + +<p>Having beaten and bruised himself +against the bars of Fate, he now lay exhausted +and passive in the power of his +jailer. He had tried to run his own life +in his own way, and the matter had been +<a name="png.263" id="png.263"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">258</span><span class="ns">] + </span>taken out of his hands. He must lie still +now and wait for orders from headquarters. +The words of Mr. Opp, spoken in +the low-ceiled, weird old dining-room, +came vividly back to him: “What the +fight is concerning, or in what manner +the general is a-aiming to bring it all correct +in the end, ain’t, according to my +conclusion, a particle of our business.”</p> + +<p>And Hinton, after a year of rebellion +and struggle and despair, had at last acknowledged +a superior officer and declared +himself ready to take whatever +orders came.</p> + +<p>As he lay in the hammock he turned +his head at every noise within the house, +and listened. He had become amazingly +dependent upon a soft, drawling voice +which day after day read to him for +hours at a time. At first he had met +Guinevere’s offers of help with moody +irritability.</p> + +<p>“Pray, don’t bother about me,” he +had said. “I am quite able to look after +myself; besides, I like to be alone.”</p> + +<p>But her unobtrusive sympathy and +<a name="png.264" id="png.264"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">259</span><span class="ns">] + </span>childish frankness soon conquered his +pride. She read to him from books she +did not understand, played games with +him, and showed him new walks in the +woods. And incidentally, she revealed +to him her struggling, starving, wistful +soul that no one else had ever discovered.</p> + +<p>She never talked to him of her love +affair, but she dwelt vaguely on the +virtues of duty and loyalty and self-sacrifice. +The facts in the case were +supplied by Mrs. Gusty.</p> + +<p>Hinton looked at his watch again, and +groaned when he found it was only a +quarter past two. Feeling his way cautiously +along the porch and down the +steps, he moved idly about the yard. He +could not distinguish Menelaus from +Paris now, and Helen of Troy was no +longer to be recognized.</p> + +<p>At long intervals a vehicle rattled +past, leaving a cloud of dust behind. +The air shimmered with the heat, and +the low, insistent buzzing of bees beat +on his ears mercilessly. He wondered +<a name="png.265" id="png.265"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">260</span><span class="ns">] + </span>impatiently why Guinevere did not come +down, then checked himself as he remembered +the constant demands he +made upon her time.</p> + +<p>At three o’clock he could stand it no +longer. He felt a queer, dull sensation +about his head, and he constantly drew +his hand across his eyes to dispel the impression +of a mist before them.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Miss Guinevere!” he called up +to her window. “Would you mind coming +down just for a little while!”</p> + +<p>Guinevere’s head appeared so +promptly that it was evident it had been +lying on the window-sill.</p> + +<p>“Is it time for your medicine?” she +asked guiltily. “Mother said it didn’t +come till four.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” said Hinton, with forced +cheerfulness; “it isn’t that. You remember +the old song, don’t you, ‘When +a man’s afraid, a beautiful maid is a +cheering sight to see’?”</p> + +<p>She disappeared from the window, +and in a moment joined him behind the +screen of honeysuckles on the porch. +<a name="png.266" id="png.266"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">261</span><span class="ns">] + </span>The hammock hung, inviting ease, but +neither of them took it. She sat primly +on the straight-backed, green settee, and +he sat on the step at her feet with his hat +pulled over his eyes.</p> + +<p>“What an infernal nuisance I have +been to you!” he said ruefully; “but no +more than I have been to myself. The +only difference was that I had to stand +it, and you stood it out of the goodness +of that kind little heart of yours. Well, +it’s nearly over now; I’m expecting to +go to the city any day. I guess you’ll +not be sorry to get rid of me, will you, +Miss Guinevere?”</p> + +<p>Instead of answering, she drew a quick +breath and turned her head away. +When she did speak, it was after a long +pause.</p> + +<p>“I like the way you say my name. +Nobody says it like that down here.”</p> + +<p>“Guinevere?” he repeated.</p> + +<p>She nodded. “When you say it like +that, I feel like I was another person. +It makes me think of flowers, and poetry, +and the wind in the trees, and all those +<a name="png.267" id="png.267"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">262</span><span class="ns">] + </span>things I’ve been reading you out of your +books. Guin-never and Guinevere <em>don’t</em> +seem the same at all, do they?”</p> + +<p>“They aren’t the same,” he said, +“and you aren’t the same girl I met on +the boat last March. I guess we’ve both +grown a bit since then. You know I was +rather keen on dying about that time,—‘in +love with easeful death,’—well, now +I am not keen about anything, but I am +willing to play the game out.”</p> + +<p>They sat in silence for a while, then he +said slowly, without raising his eyes: “I +am not much good at telling what I feel, +but before I go away I want you to know +how much you’ve helped me. You have +been the one light that was left to show +me the way down into the darkness.”</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">A soft touch on his shoulder made him +lift his head. Guinevere was bending +toward him, all restraint banished from +her face by the compassion and love that +suffused it.</p> + +<p class="illus pgbrk"><a name="png.268" id="png.268"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">263</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img src="images/illus268.jpg" width="450" height="712" + alt="" title="" /><br + />“‘Oh, my God, it has come’”</p> + +<p>Instinctively he swayed toward her, all +the need of her crying out suddenly +within him, then he pulled himself +<a name="png.270" id="png.270"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">265</span><span class="ns">] + </span>sharply together, and, resolutely thrusting +his hands in his pockets, rose and +took a turn up and down the porch.</p> + +<p>“Do you mind reading to me a little?” +he asked at length. “There are forty +devils in my head to-day, all hammering +on the back of my eyeballs. I’ll get my +Tennyson; you like him better than you +do the others. Wait; I’m going.”</p> + +<p>But she was up the steps before him, +eager to serve, and determined to spare +him every effort.</p> + +<p>Through the long afternoon Guinevere +read, stumbling over the strange words +and faltering through the difficult passages, +but vibrant to the beauty and the +pathos of it all. On and on she read, and +the sun went down, and the fragrance of +dying locust bloom came faintly from +the hill, and overhead in the tree-tops +the evening breeze murmured its world-old +plaint of loneliness and longing.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Guinevere’s voice faltered, +then steadied, then faltered again, then +without warning she flung her arms +across the back of the bench, and, dropping +<a name="png.271" id="png.271"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">266</span><span class="ns">] + </span>her head upon them, burst into passionate +sobs.</p> + +<p>Hinton, who had been sitting for a +long time with his hands pressed over +his eyes, sprang up to go to her.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">“Guinevere,” he said, “what’s the +matter? Don’t cry, dear!” Then, as he +stumbled, a look of terror crossed his +face and he caught at the railing for +support. “Where are you?” he asked +sharply. “Speak to me! Give me your +hand! I can’t see—I can’t—oh, my +God, it has come!”</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.272" id="png.272"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">267</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>XV</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/t-initial.png" + alt="T" title="T" width="149" height="150" /><span>he</span> warning note sounded +by Mrs. Fallows at the +beginning of the oil +boom was echoed by +many before the summer +was over. The coldest +thing in the world is an exhausted enthusiasm, +and when weeks slipped into +months, and notes fell due, and the bank +became cautious about lending money, a +spirit of distrust got abroad, and a financial +frost settled upon the community.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding these conditions, +“The Opp Eagle” persistently screamed +prosperity. It attributed the local depression +to the financial disturbance that +had agitated the country at large, and +assured the readers that the Cove was +on the eve of the greatest period in its +history.</p> + +<p><a name="png.273" id="png.273"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">268</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“The ascending, soaring bubble of inflated +prices cannot last much longer,” +one editorial said; “the financial flurry +in the Wall Streets of the North were +pretty well over before we become aware +of it, in a major sense. ‘The Opp Eagle’ +has in the past, present, and future +waged noble warfare against the calamity +jays. Panic or no panic, Cove City +refuses to remain in the backgrounds. +There has been a large order for job-work +in this office within the past ten +days, also several new and important +subscribers, all of which does not make +much of a showing for hard times, at +least not from our point of looking at +it.”</p> + +<p>But in the same issue, in an inconspicuous +corner, were a couple of lines +to the effect that “the editor would be +glad to take a load of wood on subscription.”</p> + +<p>The truth was that it required all of +Mr. Opp’s diplomacy to rise to the +occasion. The effort to meet his own +obligations was becoming daily more +<a name="png.274" id="png.274"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">269</span><span class="ns">] + </span>embarrassing, and he was reduced to +economies entirely beneath the dignity +of the editor of “The Opp Eagle.” But +while he cheerfully restricted his diet to +two meals a day, and wore shirt-fronts +in lieu of the genuine article, he was, +according to Nick’s ideas, rashly extravagant +in other ways.</p> + +<p>“What did you go and buy Widow +Green’s oil-shares back for?” Nick demanded +upon one of these occasions.</p> + +<p>“Well, you see,” explained Mr. Opp, +“it was purely a business proposition. +Any day, now, things may open up in a +way that will surprise you. I have good +reason to believe that those shares are +bound to go up; and besides,” he added +lamely in an undertone, “I happen to +know that that there lady was in immediate +need of a little ready money.”</p> + +<p>“So are we,” protested Nick; “we +need every cent we can get for the paper. +If we don’t get ahead some by the first +of the year, we are going under, sure as +you live.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp laid a hand upon his shoulder +<a name="png.275" id="png.275"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">270</span><span class="ns">] + </span>and smiled tolerantly. “Financiers get +used to these fluctuations in money circles. +Don’t you worry, Nick; you leave +that to the larger brains in the concern.”</p> + +<p>But in spite of his superior attitude of +confidence, Nick’s words rankled in his +mind, and the first of the year became a +time which he preferred not to consider.</p> + +<p>One day in September the mail-packet +brought two letters of great importance +to Mr. Opp. One was from Willard +Hinton, the first since his operation, and +the other was from Mr. Mathews, stating +that he would arrive at the Cove that day +to lay an important matter of business +before the stock-holders of the Turtle +Creek Land Company.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp rushed across the road, a letter +in each hand, to share the news with +Guinevere.</p> + +<p>“It’s as good as settled,” he cried, +bursting in upon her, where she sat at +the side door wrestling with a bit of +needlework. “Mr. Mathews will be here +to-day. He is either going to open up +work or sell out to a syndicate. I’m +<a name="png.276" id="png.276"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">271</span><span class="ns">] + </span>going to use all my influence for the latter; +it’s the surest and safest plan. +Miss Guin-never,”—his voice softened,— +“this is all I been waiting for to make +my last and final arrangement with your +mother. It was just yesterday she was +asking me what I’d decided to do, and I +don’t mind telling you, now it’s all over, +I never went to bed all last night—just +sat up trying to figure it out. But this +will settle it. I’ll be in a position to +have a little home of my own and take +care of Kippy, too. I don’t know as I +ever was so happy in all my life put +together before.” He laughed nervously, +but his eyes anxiously studied her +averted face.</p> + +<p>“Then there’s more news,” he +plunged on, when she did not speak—“a +letter from Mr. Hinton. I thought +maybe you’d like to hear what he had +to say.”</p> + +<p>Guinevere’s scissors dropped with a +sharp ring on the stepping-stone below, +and as they both stooped to get them, +their fingers touched. Mr. Opp ardently +<a name="png.277" id="png.277"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">272</span><span class="ns">] + </span>seized her hand in both of his, but unfortunately +he seized her needle as well.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am so sorry!” she said. +“Wait, let me do it,” and with a compassion +which he considered nothing short +of divine she extricated the needle, and +comforted the wounded member. Mr. +Opp would have gladly suffered the fate +of a St. Sebastian to have elicited such +sympathy.</p> + +<p>“Is—is Mr. Hinton better?” she +asked, still bending over his hand.</p> + +<p>“Hinton?” asked Mr. Opp. “Oh, I +forgot; yes. I’ll read you what he says. +He got his nurse to write this for him.</p> + +<div class="quote"> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smc">Dear Opp</span>: The die is cast; I am a has-been. +I did not expect anything, so I am not disappointed. +The operation was what they called +successful. The surgeon, I am told, did a +very brilliant stunt; something like taking +my eyes out, playing marbles with them, and +getting them sewed back again all in three +minutes and a half. The result to the patient +is of course purely a minor consideration, +but it may interest you to know that I +can tell a biped from a quadruped, and may +<a name="png.278" id="png.278"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">273</span><span class="ns">] + </span>in time, by the aid of powerful glasses, be +able to distinguish faces.</p> + +<p>With these useful and varied accomplishments +I have decided to return to the Cove. +My modest ambition now is to get out of the +way, and the safest plan is to keep out of the +current.</p> + +<p>You will probably be a Benedick by the +time I return. My heartiest congratulations +to you and Miss Guinevere. Words cannot +thank either of you for what you have done +for me. All I can say is that I have tried to +be worthy of your friendship.</p> + +<p>What’s left of me is</p> + +<p class="yours">Yours,</p> + +<p class="sign"><span class="smc">Willard <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: + original lacks closing quote">Hinton.</ins></span>”</p> + +</div> + +<p>Mr. Opp avoided looking at her as he +folded the sheets and put them back in +the envelop. The goal was bright before +his eyes, but quicksands dragged at his +feet.</p> + +<p>“And he <em>will</em> find us married, won’t +he, Miss Guin-never? You’ll be ready +just as soon as I and your mother come +to a understanding, won’t you? Why, +it seems more like eleven years than +<a name="png.279" id="png.279"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">274</span><span class="ns">] + </span>eleven months since you and me saw that +sunset on the river! There hasn’t been +a day since, you might say, that hasn’t +been occupied with you. All I ask for +in the world is just the chance for the +rest of my life of trying to make you +happy. You believe that, don’t you, +Miss Guin-never?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said miserably, gazing out +at the little arbor Hinton had made for +her beneath the trees.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll stop by this evening after +the meeting, if it ain’t too late,” said +Mr. Opp. “You’ll—you’ll be—glad +if everything culminates satisfactory, +won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I’m glad of everything good that +comes to you,” said Guinevere so earnestly +that Mr. Opp, who had lived on +a diet of crumbs all his life, looked at +her gratefully, and went back to the office +assuring himself that all would be well.</p> + +<p>The visit of Mr. Mathews, while +eagerly anticipated, could not have fallen +on a less auspicious day. Aunt Tish, the +arbiter of the Opp household, had been +<a name="png.280" id="png.280"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">275</span><span class="ns">] + </span>planning for weeks to make a visit to +Coreyville, and the occasion of an opportune +funeral furnished an immediate excuse.</p> + +<p>“No, <em>sir</em>, Mr. D., I can’t put hit off till +to-morrow,” she declared in answer to +Mr. Opp’s request that she stay with +Miss Kippy until after the stock-holders’ +meeting. “I’s ’bleeged to go on dat +night boat. De funeral teks place at ten +o’clock in de mawnin’, an’ I’s gwine be +dar ef I has to swim de ribber.”</p> + +<p>“Was he a particular friend, the one +that died?” asked Mr. Opp.</p> + +<p>“Friend? Bunk Bivens? Dat onery, +good-fer-nothin’ ole half-strainer? Naw, +sir; he ain’t no friend ob mine.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what makes you so pressing +and particular about attending his +funeral?” asked Mr. Opp.</p> + +<p>“’Ca’se I ’spise him so. I been hating +dat nigger fer pretty nigh forty year, +an’ I ain’t gwine lose dis chanst ob seein’ +him buried.”</p> + +<p>“But, Aunt Tish,” persisted Mr. Opp, +impatiently, “I’ve got a very important +<a name="png.281" id="png.281"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">276</span><span class="ns">] + </span>and critical meeting this afternoon. The +business under consideration may be +wound up in the matter of a few minutes, +and then, again, it may prolong +itself into several consecutive hours. +You’ll have to stay with Kippy till I get +home.”</p> + +<p>The old woman looked at him +strangely. “See dis heah hole in my +haid, honey? ’Member how you and Ben +uster ast Aunt Tish what mek hit? Dat +nigger Bunk Bivens mek hit. He was a +roustabout on de ribber, an’ him an’ yer +paw fell out, an’ one night when you was +a baby he follow yer paw up here, an’ me +an’ him had hit out.”</p> + +<p>“But where was my father?” asked +Mr. Opp.</p> + +<p>“Dey was ’sputin’ right heah in dis +heah kitchen where we’s standin’ at, an’ +dat mean, bow-laigged nigger didn’t +have no better manners den to ’spute wif +a gentleman dat was full. An’ pore Miss +she run in so skeered an’ white an’ she +say, ‘Aunt Tish, don’t let him hurt him; +he don’t know what he’s sayin’,’ she +<a name="png.282" id="png.282"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">277</span><span class="ns">] + </span>baig, an’ I tell her to keep yer paw outen +de way an’ I tek keer ob Bunk.”</p> + +<p>“And did he fight you?” asked Mr. +Opp, indignantly.</p> + +<p>“Naw, sir; I fit him. We put nigh +tore up de floor ob de kitchen. Den he +bust my haid open wif de poker, an’ +looks lak I been losing my knowledge +ever sence. From dat day I ’low I’s +gwine to git even if it took me till I died, +an’ now dat spiteful old devil done died +fust. But I’s gwine see him buried. I +want to see ’em nail him up in a box and +th’ow dirt on him.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Tish ended the recital in a sing-song +chant, worked up to a state of hysteria +by the recital of her ancient wrong.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp sighed both for the past and +the present. He saw the futility of arguing +the case.</p> + +<p>“Well, you’ll stay until the boat whistles?” +he asked. “Sometimes it is two +hours late.”</p> + +<p>“Yas, sir; but when dat whistle toots +I’s gwine. Ef you is heah, all right; ef +you ain’t, all right: I’s <em>gwine</em>!”</p> + +<p><a name="png.283" id="png.283"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">278</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>As Mr. Opp passed through the hall he +saw Miss Kippy slip ahead of him and +conceal herself behind the door. She +carried something hidden in her apron.</p> + +<p>“Have you learned your reading lesson +to say to brother D. to-night?” he +asked, ignoring her behavior. “You are +getting so smart, learning to read handwriting +just as good as I can!”</p> + +<p>But Miss Kippy only peeped at him +through the crack in the door and refused +to be friendly. For several days +she had been furtive and depressed, and +had not spoken to either Aunt Tish or +himself.</p> + +<p>On the way to his office Mr. Opp was +surprised to see Mr. Gallop leaning out +of the window of his little room beckoning +frantically. It was evident that Mr. +Gallop had a secret to divulge, and Mr. +Gallop with a secret was as excited as a +small bird with a large worm.</p> + +<p>“Just come in a minute and sit down,” +he fluttered; “you’ll have to excuse the +looks of things. Having just this one +<a name="png.284" id="png.284"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">279</span><span class="ns">] + </span>room for telegraph office and bedroom +and everything crowds me up awful. +I’ve been trying to fix my lunch for half +an hour, but the telephone just keeps me +busy. Then, besides, Mr. Mathews was +here; he came down on the launch at +twelve o’clock. Now, of course I know it +ain’t right to repeat anything I hear over +the long-distance wire, but being such a +good friend of yours, and you being such +a friend of mine—why, Mr. Opp there +ain’t anybody in the world I owe more to +than I do to you, not only the money +you’ve lent me from time to time, but +your standing up for me when everybody +was down on me—and—”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but you was remarking about +Mr. Mathews?” Mr. Opp interrupted.</p> + +<p>“Yes; and I was saying I never make +a practice of repeating what I hear, but +he was talking right here in the room, +and I was mixing up a little salad dressing +I promised Mrs. Fallows for the +social,—it’s to be over at Your Hotel +this evening—there’s the telephone!”</p> + +<p><a name="png.285" id="png.285"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">280</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Mr. Opp sat on the edge of the sofa, +the rest of it being occupied with gaily +embroidered sofa pillows, specimens, the +town declared, of Mr. Gallop’s own +handiwork. In fact, the only unoccupied +space in the room was on the ceiling, for +between his duties as operator and +housekeeper Mr. Gallop still found time +to cultivate the arts, and the result of his +efforts was manifest in every nook and +corner.</p> + +<p>“It was Mrs. Gusty getting after Mr. +Toddlinger for sending vanilla extract +instead of lemon,” explained Mr. Gallop, +who had stopped to hear the discussion.</p> + +<p>“Well, as I was saying, Mr. Mathews +called up somebody in the city almost as +soon as he got here—Now you’ve got to +promise me you won’t tell a living soul +about this.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp promised.</p> + +<p>“He said to telegraph New York +party that terms were agreed on, and to +mail check at once to Clark, and tell him +to keep his mouth shut. Then the other +end said something, and Mr. Mathews +<a name="png.286" id="png.286"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">281</span><span class="ns">] + </span>said: ‘We can’t afford to wait. You +telegraph at once; I’ll manipulate the +crowd down here.’ They talked a lot +more, then he said awful low, but I heard +him: ‘Well, damn it! they’ve got to. +There’s too much at stake.’”</p> + +<p>The editor sat with his hat in his hand, +and blinked at the operator: “Manipulate,” +he said in a puzzled tone, “did he +use that particular word?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gallop nodded.</p> + +<p>“He may have been referring to something +else,” said Mr. Opp, waiving aside +any disagreeable suspicion. “Mr. Mathews +is a business gentleman. He’s +involved in a great many ventures, +something like myself. You wouldn’t +think from what you heard that—er—that +he was contemplating not acting exactly—fair +with us, would you?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gallop, having delivered himself +of his information, did not feel called +upon to express a personal opinion.</p> + +<p>“If you ever say I told you a word of +this, I’ll swear I didn’t,” he said. “It +was just because you were such a good +<a name="png.287" id="png.287"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">282</span><span class="ns">] + </span>friend, and—there’s that ’phone +again!”</p> + +<p>During the early hours of the afternoon, +Mr. Opp was oppressed with a +vague uneasiness. He made several attempts +to see Mr. Mathews, but that +gentleman was closeted with his stenographer +until five o’clock, the hour named +for the meeting.</p> + +<p>All feeling of distrust was banished, +however, when Mr. Mathews made his +way through the crowd of stock-holders +that filled the office of Your Hotel, and +took his stand by the desk. He was so +bland and confident, so satisfied with +himself and the world and the situation, +that, as Jimmy Fallows remarked, “You +kinder looked for him to purr when he +wasn’t talking.”</p> + +<p>He set forth at great length the undoubted +oil wealth of the region, he complimented +them on their sagacity and +foresight in buying up the Turtle Creek +ground, he praised the Cove in general +and that distinguished citizen, the editor +of “The Opp Eagle,” in particular. The +<a name="png.288" id="png.288"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">283</span><span class="ns">] + </span>enterprise upon which they had embarked, +he said, had grown to such proportions +that large capital was required +to carry it on. Owing to the recent depression +in the money market, the Kentucky +company did not feel able properly +to back the concern, so it had been agreed +that if a good offer was made to buy it, +it should be accepted. It was with such +an offer, Mr. Mathews said, that he had +come to them to-day.</p> + +<p>A stir of excitement met this announcement, +and Miss Jim Fenton waved +her lace scarf in her enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>“Some time ago,” went on Mr. Mathews, +graciously acknowledging the applause, +“the Union Syndicate of New +York sent an expert, Mr. Clark, down +here to report on the oil conditions in +this region.” Mr. Opp’s eyes became +fixed on Mr. Mathews’s face, and his lips +parted. “The report was so entirely +satisfactory,” continued Mr. Mathews, +“that the following offer has been +made.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp rose immediately. “Excuse +<a name="png.289" id="png.289"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">284</span><span class="ns">] + </span>me, sir, there is—er—rather, there must +be some little mistake just at this juncture.”</p> + +<p>All eyes were turned upon him, and a +murmur of dissent arose at an interruption +at such a critical point.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathews gave him permission to +proceed.</p> + +<p>“You see—I—Mr. Clark, that is,”—Mr. +Opp’s fingers were working nervously +on the back of the chair before +him,—“him and myself went over the +ground together, and—I—well, I must +say I don’t consider him a competent +judge.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathews smiled. “I am afraid, +Mr. Opp, that your opinion is overruled. +Mr. Clark is a recognized authority, although,” +he added significantly, “of +course the most expert make mistakes at +times.”</p> + +<p>“That ain’t the point,” persisted Mr. +Opp; “it’s the conflicting difference in +what he said to me, and what he’s reported +to them. He told me that he +didn’t consider our prospects was worth +<a name="png.290" id="png.290"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">285</span><span class="ns">] + </span>a picayune, and if the wells were drilled, +they probably wouldn’t run a year. I +didn’t believe him then; but you say +now that he is a expert and that he +knows.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathews’s tolerance seemed limitless. +He waited patiently for Mr. Opp +to finish, then he said smoothly:</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes; I understand your point +perfectly, Mr. Opp. Mr. Clark’s remarks +were injudicious, but he was looking +at all sides of the question. He saw +me after he saw you, you know, and I +was able to direct his attention to the +more favorable aspects of the case. His +report was entirely favorable, and I +guess that is all that concerns us, isn’t +it?” He embraced the room with his +smile.</p> + +<p>During the next quarter of an hour +Mr. Opp sat with his arms folded and +his eyes bent on the floor and bit his lips +furiously. Something was wrong. Again +and again he fought his way back to this +conclusion through the enveloping mazes +of Mr. Mathews’s plausibility. Why +<a name="png.291" id="png.291"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">286</span><span class="ns">] + </span>had they waited so long after drilling +that first well? Why, after making elaborate +plans and buying machinery, had +they suddenly decided to sell? Why had +Mr. Clark given such contradictory opinions? +What did Mr. Mathews mean by +that message from Mr. Gallop’s office? +Mr. Opp’s private affairs, trembling in +the balance, were entirely lost sight of +in his determination for fair play.</p> + +<p>Covering his eyes with his hand, and +trying not to hear the flood of argument +which Mr. Mathews was bringing to +bear upon his already convinced audience, +Mr. Opp attempted to recall all that +Mr. Gallop had told him.</p> + +<p>“He said ‘manipulate,’” repeated +Mr. Opp to himself. “I remember that, +and he said ‘telegraph New York party +that terms were agreed on.’ Then he +said ‘mail check to Clark; tell him to +keep his mouth shut.’ What’s <em>he</em> paying +Clark for? Why—”</p> + +<p>“The motion before the house,” Mr. +Tucker’s piping voice broke in upon his +agitated reasoning, “is whether the +<a name="png.292" id="png.292"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">287</span><span class="ns">] + </span>stock-holders of the Turtle Creek Land +Company is willing to sell out at a rate +of seven to one to the Union Syndicate.”</p> + +<p>In the buzz of delight that ensued, Mr. +Opp found himself standing on a chair +and demanding attention.</p> + +<p>“Listen here,” he cried, pounding on +the wall with his hand, “I’ve got important +information that’s got to be told: +that man Clark is a rascal. He’s—he’s +deceiving his company. He’s been paid +to make a good report of our ground. I +can’t prove it, but I know it. We’re +taking part in a fraud; we’re—we’re +being manipulated.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp almost shrieked the last word +in his agony of earnestness; but before +the crowd could fully apprehend his +meaning, Mr. Mathews rose and said +somewhat sharply:</p> + +<p>“What the representative of the +Union Syndicate is, or is not, doesn’t +concern us in the least. I come to you +with a gilt-edged proposition; all I ask +you is to sit tight, and take my advice, +and I guarantee you an immediate +<a name="png.293" id="png.293"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">288</span><span class="ns">] + </span>return of seven dollars to every one you +put into this concern. Mr. Chairman, +will you put it to the vote?”</p> + +<p>But Mr. Opp again stopped proceedings. +“As a director in this company I +won’t stand for what’s going on. I’ll +telegraph the syndicate. I’ll advertise +the whole matter!”</p> + +<p>Mat Lucas pulled at his sleeve, and the +preacher put a restraining arm about his +shoulder. The amazing rumor had become +current that the Cove’s stanchest +advocate for temperance had been indulging +in drink, and there was nothing +in the editor’s flushed face and excited +manner to contradict the impression.</p> + +<p>“If by any chance,” Mr. Mathews +went on in a steady voice, “there should +be a stock-holder who is unwilling to take +advantage of this magnificent offer, we +need hardly say that we are prepared to +buy his stock back at the amount he gave +for it.” He smiled, as if inviting ridicule +at the absurdity of the proposition.</p> + +<p>“I am unwilling,” cried Mr. Opp, +<a name="png.294" id="png.294"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">289</span><span class="ns">] + </span>tugging at the restraining hands. “I have +never yet in all the length and breadth +of my experience been associated with a +dishonest act.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t! Mr. Opp, don’t!” whispered +Mat Lucas. “You’re acting like a crazy +man. Don’t you see you are losing the +chance to make three thousand dollars?”</p> + +<p>“That hasn’t nothing to do with it,” +cried Mr. Opp, almost beside himself. +“I’ll not be a party to the sale. I’ll—”</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathews turned to his secretary. +“Just fix up those papers for Mr. Opp, +and give him a check for what is coming +to him. Now, Mr. Chairman, will you +put the matter to the vote?”</p> + +<p>Amid the hilarious confusion that succeeded +the unanimous vote, and the subsequent +adjournment of the meeting, Mr. +Opp pushed his way through the crowd +that surrounded Mr. Mathews.</p> + +<p>“You know what I was alluding at,” +he shouted through his chattering teeth. +“You’ve carried this through, but I’ll +blockade you. I am going to tell the +truth to the whole community. I am +<a name="png.295" id="png.295"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">290</span><span class="ns">] + </span>going to telegraph to the syndicate and +stop the sale.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathews lifted his brows and +smiled deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry you have worked yourself +up to such a pitch, my friend,” he said. +“Telegraph, by all means if it will ease +your mind; but the fact is, the deal was +closed at noon to-day.”</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">The long, low whistle of the packet +sounded, but Mr. Opp heeded it not. He +was flinging his way across to the telegraph +office in a frenzy of Quixotic impatience +to right the wrong of which he +had refused to be a part.</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.296" id="png.296"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">291</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>XVI</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/h-initial.png" + alt="H" title="H" width="151" height="150" /><span>alf</span> an hour later, Mr. Opp +dragged himself up the +hill to his home. All the +unfairness and injustice +of the universe seemed +pressing upon his heart. +Every muscle in his body quivered in remembrance +of what he had been through, +and an iron band seemed tightening +about his throat. His town had refused +to believe his story! It had laughed in +his face!</p> + +<p>With a sudden mad desire for sympathy +and for love, he began calling +Kippy. He stumbled across the porch, +and, opening the door with his latch-key, +stood peering into the gloom of the room.</p> + +<p>The draft from an open window blew +a curtain toward him, a white spectral, +<a name="png.297" id="png.297"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">292</span><span class="ns">] + </span>beckoning thing, but no sound broke the +stillness.</p> + +<p>“Kippy!” he called again, his voice +sharp with anxiety.</p> + +<p>From one room to another he ran, +searching in nooks and corners, peering +under the beds and behind the doors, +calling in a voice that was sometimes a +command, but oftener a plea: “Kippy! +Kippy!”</p> + +<p>At last he came back to the dining-room +and lighted the lamp with shaking +hands. On the hearth were the remains +of a small bonfire, with papers scattered +about. He dropped on his knees and +seized a bit of charred cardboard. It +was a corner of the hand-painted frame +that had incased the picture of Guinevere +Gusty! Near it lay loose sheets of +paper, parts of that treasured package +of letters she had written him from +Coreyville.</p> + +<p>As Mr. Opp gazed helplessly about the +room, his eyes fell upon something white +pinned to the red table-cloth. He held it +to the light. It was a portion of one of +<a name="png.298" id="png.298"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">293</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Guinevere’s letters, written in the girl’s +clear, round hand:</p> + +<div class="quote"> +<p>Mother says I can never marry you until +Miss Kippy goes to the asylum.</p> +</div> + +<p>Mr. Opp got to his feet. “She’s read +the letter,” he cried wildly; “she’s +learned out about herself! Maybe she’s +in the woods now, or down on the bank!” +He rushed to the porch. “Kippy!” he +shouted. “Don’t be afraid! Brother D.’s +coming to get you! Don’t run away, +Kippy! Wait for me! Wait!” and +leaving the old house open to the night, +he plunged into the darkness, beating +through the woods and up and down the +road, calling in vain for Kippy, who lay +cowering in the bottom of a leaking skiff +that was drifting down the river at the +mercy of the current.</p> + +<p class="tb">Two days later, Mr. Opp sat in the office +of the Coreyville Asylum for the Insane +and heard the story of his sister’s wanderings. +Her boat had evidently been +<a name="png.299" id="png.299"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">294</span><span class="ns">] + </span>washed ashore at a point fifteen miles +above the town, for people living along +the river had reported a strange little +woman, without hat or coat, who came to +their doors crying and saying her name +was “Oxety,” and that she was crazy, +and begging them to show her the way +to the asylum. On the second day she +had been found unconscious on the steps +of the institution, and since then, the +doctor said, she had been wild and unmanageable.</p> + +<p>“Considering all things,” he concluded, +“it is much wiser for you not to +see her. She came of her own accord, +evidently felt the attack coming on, and +wanted to be taken care of.”</p> + +<p>He was a large, smooth-faced man, +with the conciliatory manner of one who +regards all his fellow-men as patients in +varying degrees of insanity.</p> + +<p>“But I’m in the regular habit of taking +care of her,” protested Mr. Opp. +“This is just a temporary excitement +for the time being that won’t ever, probably, +occur again. Why, she’s been +<a name="png.300" id="png.300"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">295</span><span class="ns">] + </span>improving all winter; I’ve learnt her to +read and write a little, and to pick out +a number of cities on the geographical +atlas.”</p> + +<p>“All wrong,” exclaimed the doctor; +“mistaken kindness. She can never be +any better, but she may be a great deal +worse. Her mind should never be stimulated +or excited in any way. Here, of +course, we understand all these things +and treat the patient accordingly.”</p> + +<p>“Then I must just go back to treating +her like a child again?” asked Mr. Opp, +“not endeavoring to improve her intellect, +or help her grow up in any way?”</p> + +<p>The doctor laid a kindly hand on his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>“You leave her to us,” he said. “The +State provides this excellent institution +for just such cases as hers. You do +yourself and your family, if you have +one, an injustice by keeping her at home. +Let her stay here for six months or so, +and you will see what a relief it will be.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp sat with his elbow on the +desk and his head propped in his hand, +<a name="png.301" id="png.301"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">296</span><span class="ns">] + </span>and stared miserably at the floor. He +had not had his clothes off for two +nights, and he had scarcely taken time +from his search to eat anything. His +face looked old and wizened and haunted +from the strain. Yet here and now he +was called upon to make his great decision. +On the one hand lay the old, helpless +life with Kippy, and on the other a +future of dazzling possibility with Guinevere. +All of his submerged self suddenly +rose and demanded happiness. He +was ready to snatch it, at any cost, regardless +of everything and everybody—of +Kippy; of Guinevere, who, he knew, +did not love him, but would keep her +promise; of Hinton, whose secret he had +long ago guessed. And, as a running +accompaniment to his thoughts, was the +quiet, professional voice of the doctor +urging him to the course that his heart +prompted. For a moment the personal +forces involved trembled in equilibrium.</p> + +<p>After a long time he unknotted his fingers, +and drew his handkerchief across +his brow.</p> + +<p><a name="png.302" id="png.302"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">297</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“I guess I’ll go up and see her now,” +he said, with the gasping breath of a man +who has been under water.</p> + +<p>In vain the doctor protested. Mr. +Opp was determined.</p> + +<p>As the door to the long ward was being +unlocked, he leaned for a moment +dizzily against the wall.</p> + +<p>“You’d better let me give you a swallow +of whisky,” suggested the doctor, +who had noted his exhaustion.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp raised his hand deprecatingly, +with a touch of his old professional +pride. “I don’t know as I’ve had +occasion to mention,” he said, “that I +am the editor and sole proprietor of ‘The +Opp Eagle’; and that bird,” he added, +with a forced smile, “is, as everybody +knows, a complete teetotaler.”</p> + +<p>At the end of the crowded ward, with +her face to the wall, was a slight, familiar +figure. Mr. Opp started forward; then +he turned fiercely upon the attendant.</p> + +<p>“Her hands are <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'tired'">tied</ins>! Who dared to +tie her up like that?”</p> + +<p>“It’s just a soft handkerchief,” +<a name="png.303" id="png.303"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">298</span><span class="ns">] + </span>replied the matronly woman, reassuringly. +“We were afraid she would pull her hair +out. She wants its fixed a certain way; +but she’s afraid for any of us to touch +her. She has been crying about it ever +since she came.”</p> + +<p>In an instant Mr. Opp was on his +knees beside her. “Kippy, Kippy darling, +here’s brother D.; he’ll fix it for +you! You want it parted on the side, +don’t you, tied with a bow, and all the +rest hanging down? Don’t cry so, +Kippy. I’m here now; brother D.’ll +take care of you.”</p> + +<p>She flung her loosened arms around +him and clung to him in a passion of relief. +Her sobs shook them both, and his +face and neck were wet with her tears.</p> + +<p>As soon as they could get her sufficiently +quiet, they took her into her little +bedroom.</p> + +<p>“You let the lady get you ready,” +urged Mr. Opp, still holding her hand, +“and I’ll take you back home, and Aunt +Tish will have a nice, hot supper all waiting +for us.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.304" id="png.304"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">299</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>But she would let nobody else touch +her, and even then she broke forth into +piteous sobs and protests. Once she +pushed him from her and looked about +wildly. “No, no,” she cried, “I mustn’t +go; I am crazy!” But he told her about +the three little kittens that had been born +under the kitchen steps, and in an instant +she was all a-tremble with eagerness to +go home to see them.</p> + +<p>An hour later, Mr. Opp and his charge +sat on the river-bank and waited for the +little launch that was to take them back +to the Cove. A curious crowd had gathered +at a short distance, for their story +had gone the rounds.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp sat under the fire of curious +glances, gazing straight in front of him, +and only his flushed face showed what he +was suffering. Miss Kippy, in her +strange clothes and with her pale hair +flying about her shoulders, sat close by +him, her hand in his.</p> + +<p>“D.,” she said once in a high, insistent +voice, “when will I be grown up +enough to marry Mr. Hinton?”</p> + +<p><a name="png.305" id="png.305"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">300</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Mr. Opp for a moment forgot the +crowd. “Kippy,” he said with all the +gentle earnestness that was in him, “you +ain’t never going to grow up at all. You +are just always going to be brother D.’s +little girl. You see, Mr. Hinton’s too +old for you, just like—” he paused, then +finished it bravely—“just like I am too +old for Miss Guin-never. I wouldn’t be +surprised if they got married with each +other some day. You and me will just +have to take care of each other.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him with the quick suspicion +of the insane, but he was ready for +her with a smile.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">“Oh, D.,” she cried, in a sudden rapture, +“we are glad, ain’t we?”</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.306" id="png.306"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">301</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>XVII</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/f-initial.png" + alt="F" title="F" width="157" height="150" /><span>or</span> the next four weeks +there was no issue of +“The Opp Eagle.” When +it did make its appearance, +it contained the +following editorial:</p> + +<div class="quote"> +<p>Ye editor has for several weeks been the +victim of the La Grip which eventuated into a +rising in our left ear. Although we are still +in severe and continuous pain, we know that +behind the clouds of suffering the blue sky of +health is still shining, and that a brighter day +is coming, as it were.</p> +</div> + +<p>The night of Mr. Opp’s return from +Coreyville, he had written a long letter +to Guinevere Gusty telling her of his +final decision in regard to Kippy, and +releasing her from her promise. This +having been accomplished, he ceased to +<a name="png.307" id="png.307"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">302</span><span class="ns">] + </span>fight against the cold and exhaustion, +and went to bed with a hard chill.</p> + +<p>Aunt Tish, all contrition for the disasters +she thought she had brought upon +the household, served him night and day, +and even Miss Kippy, moved by the unusual +sight of her brother in bed, made +futile efforts to assist in the nursing.</p> + +<p>When at last he was able to crawl back +to the office, he found startling changes +had taken place in the Cove. The +prompt payment of the oil stock-holders +by the Union Syndicate had brought +about such a condition of prosperity and +general satisfaction as had never before +been known. The civic spirit planted +and carefully nourished by “The Opp +Eagle” burst into bloom under this sudden +and unexpected warmth. Committees, +formed the year before, were called +upon for reports, and gratifying results +were obtained. The Cove awoke to the +fact that it had lamp-posts, and side-walks +and a post-office, with a possibility, +looming large, of a court house.</p> + +<p>Nor did this ambition for improvement +<a name="png.308" id="png.308"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">303</span><span class="ns">] + </span>stop short with the town: it extended to +individuals. Jimmy Fallows was going +to build a new hotel; Mr. Tucker was +going to convert his hotel into a handsome +private residence, for which Mrs. +Gusty had been asked to select the wall-paper; +Mat Lucas was already planning +to build a large store on Main Street, +and had engaged Mr. Gallop to take +charge of the dry-goods department. +The one person upon whom prosperity +had apparently had a blighting effect +was Miss Jim Fenton. Soon after the +receipt of her check, she had appeared +in the Cove in a plain, black tailor suit, +and a small, severe felt hat innocent of +adornment. The French-heeled slippers +had been replaced by heavy walking +shoes, and the lace scarf was discarded +for a stiff linen collar.</p> + +<p>But the state of Miss Jim’s mind was +not to be judged by the somberness of +her raiment. The novelty of selecting +her own clothes, of consulting her own +taste, of being rid of the entangling dangers +of lace ruffles and flying furbelows, +<a name="png.309" id="png.309"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">304</span><span class="ns">] + </span>to say nothing of unwelcome suitors, +gave her a sense of exhilaration and independence +which she had not enjoyed +for years.</p> + +<p>In the midst of all these tangible evidences +of success, Mr. Opp found himself +indulging in a hand-to-hand struggle +with failure. As a hunter aims at a point +well in advance of the flying bird, so he +had aimed at possibilities ahead of the +facts, and when events took an unexpected +turn, he was left stranded, his +ammunition gone, his judgment questioned, +and his hands empty. He had +been conducting his affairs not on the +basis of his present income, but in reference +to the large sums which he confidently +believed would accrue from the +oil-wells.</p> + +<p>The circulation of “The Opp Eagle” +was increasing steadily, but the growing +bird must be fed, and the editor, struggling +to meet daily pressing obligations, +was in no condition to furnish the steady +demand for copy.</p> + +<p>All unnecessary diversions were +<a name="png.310" id="png.310"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">305</span><span class="ns">] + </span>ruthlessly foregone. He resigned with a +pang the leadership of the Union Orchestra, +he gave up his membership with the +Odd Fellows. Even his more important +duties, as president of the Town Improvement +League, and director in the +bank, were relinquished. For, in addition +to his editorials, he had undertaken +to augment his slender income by selling +on subscription the “Encyclopedia of +Wonder, Beauty, and Wisdom.”</p> + +<p>It was at this low ebb of Mr. Opp’s +fortunes that Willard Hinton returned +to the Cove. He was still pale from his +long confinement, but there was an unusual +touch of animation about him, the +half-surprised interest of one who has +struck bottom, and found it not so bad +as he had expected.</p> + +<p>One dark afternoon in November he +made his way over to the office of “The +Opp Eagle,” and stood irresolute in the +door.</p> + +<p>“That you, Mr. Opp? Or is it Nick?” +He blinked uncertainly.</p> + +<p>“Why, it is me,” said Mr. Opp. +<a name="png.311" id="png.311"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">306</span><span class="ns">] + </span>“Come right in. I’ve been so occupied +with engagements that I haven’t +scarcely had occasion to see anything +of you since you come back. You are +getting improved all the time, ain’t +you? I thought I saw you writing on +a type-writer when I passed this morning.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Hinton; “it’s a little machine +I got before I came down, with +raised letters on the keyboard. If I progress +at the rapid pace I have started, +I’ll be an expert before long. Mrs. +Gusty was able to read five words out +of ten this morning!”</p> + +<p>“Hope you’ll do us an article or +two,” said Mr. Opp. “I don’t mind telling +you that things has been what you +might name as pressing ever since that +trouble about the oil-wells. I’m not regretting +any step that I taken, and I am +endeavoring not to harbor any feelings +against those that went on after I give +my word it wasn’t a fair transaction. +But if what that man Clark said is true, +Mr. Hinton, the Union Syndicate will +<a name="png.312" id="png.312"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">307</span><span class="ns">] + </span>never open up another well in this community.”</p> + +<p>“Your conscience proved rather an +expensive luxury that time, didn’t it, +Mr. Opp?” asked Hinton, who had heard +as many versions of the affair as there +were citizens in the Cove.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp shrugged his shoulders, and +pursed his lips. “It’s a matter that I +cannot yet bring myself to talk about. +After a whole year and more of associating +with me in business and social ways, +to think they wouldn’t be willing to take +my word for what I said.”</p> + +<p>“But it wasn’t to their advantage,” +said Hinton, smiling. “You forget the +amount of money involved.”</p> + +<p>“No,” declared Mr. Opp with some +heat, “you do those gentlemen a injustice. +There ain’t a individual of them +that is capable of a dishonest act, any +more than you or me. They just lacked +the experience in dealing with a man like +Mr. Mathews.”</p> + +<p>Hinton’s smile broadened; he reached +over and grasped Mr. Opp’s hand.</p> + +<p><a name="png.313" id="png.313"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">308</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Do you know you are a rattling good +fellow? I am sorry things have gotten +so balled up with you.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll pay out,” said the editor. +“It’ll take some time, but I’ve got a remarkable +ability for work in me. I don’t +mind telling you, though I’ll have to ask +you not to mention the fact to no one at +present, that I am considering inventing +a patent. It’s a sort of improved type-setter, +one of the most remarkable +things you ever witnessed. I never +knew till about six months ago what a +scientific turn my mind could take. +I’ve worked this whole thing out in +my brain without the aid of a model of +any sort.”</p> + +<p>“In the meanwhile,” said Hinton, “I +hear you will have to sell your paper.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp winced, and the lines in his +face deepened. “Well, yes,” he said, +“I have about decided to sell, provided +I keep the editorship, of course. After +my patent gets on the market I will soon +be in a position to buy it back.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Opp,” said Hinton, “I’ve got a +<a name="png.314" id="png.314"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">309</span><span class="ns">] + </span>proposition to make to you. I have a +moderate sum of money in bank which I +want to invest in business. How would +you like to sell out the paper to me, lock, +stock, and barrel?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp, whose eyes had been resting +on the bills that strewed his table, +looked up eagerly.</p> + +<p>“You to own it, and me to run it?” he +asked hopefully.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Hinton; “you would help +me to run it, I hope, but I would be the +editor. I have thought the matter over +seriously, and I believe, with competent +help, I can make the paper an up-to-date, +self-supporting newspaper, in spite of +my handicap.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp sat as if stunned by a blow. +He had known for some time that he +must sell the paper in order to meet his +obligations, but the thought of relinquishing +his control of it never dawned +upon him. It was the pride of his heart, +the one tangible achievement in a wilderness +of dreams. Life without Guinevere +had seemed a desert; life without “The +<a name="png.315" id="png.315"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">310</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Opp Eagle” seemed chaos. He looked +up bewildered.</p> + +<p>“We’d continue on doing business +here in the regular way?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Hinton; “I would build a +larger office uptown, and put in new +presses; we could experiment with your +new patent type-setter as soon as you got +it ready.”</p> + +<p>But Mr. Opp was beyond pleasantries. +“You’d keep Nick?” he asked. “I +wouldn’t consider anything that would +cut Nick out.”</p> + +<p>“By all means,” said Hinton. “I’m +counting on you and Nick to initiate me +into the mysteries of the profession. +You could be city editor, and Nick—well, +we could make him foreman.”</p> + +<p>One last hope was left to Mr. Opp, +and he clung to it desperately, not daring +to voice it until the end.</p> + +<p>“The name,” he said faintly, “would +of course remain ‘The Opp Eagle’?”</p> + +<p>Hinton dropped his eyes; he could +not stand the wistful appeal in the drawn +face opposite.</p> + +<p><a name="png.316" id="png.316"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">311</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“No,” he said shortly; “that’s a—little +too personal. I think I should call +my paper ‘The Weekly News.’”</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp could never distinctly remember +what happened after that. He knew +that he had at first declined the offer, +that he had been argued with, had reconsidered, +and finally accepted a larger sum +than he had asked for; but the details of +the transaction were like the setting of +bones after an accident.</p> + +<p>He remembered that he had sat where +Hinton left him, staring at the floor until +Nick came to close the office; then he +had a vague impression of crossing the +fields and standing with his head against +the old sycamore-tree where the birds +had once whispered of love. After that +he knew that he had met Hinton and +Guinevere coming up the river road +hand in hand, that he had gotten home +after supper was over, and had built a +bridge of blocks for Miss Kippy.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly he had wakened to full +consciousness, staggered out of the house +to the woodshed, and shivered down into +<a name="png.317" id="png.317"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">312</span><span class="ns">] + </span>a miserable heap. There in the darkness +he seemed to see things, for the first time +in his life, quite as they were. His gaze, +accustomed to the glittering promise of +the future, peered fearfully into the +past, and reviewed the long line of +groundless hopes, of empty projects, of +self-deceptions. Shorn of its petty +shams and deceits, and stripped of its +counterfeit armor of conceit, his life lay +naked before him, a pitiful, starved, +futile thing.</p> + +<p>“I’ve just been similar to Kippy,” he +sobbed, with his face in his hands, “continually +pretending what wasn’t so. I +acted like I was young, and good-looking, +and—and highly educated; and look +at me! Look at me!” he demanded +fiercely of the kindling-wood.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp had been fighting a long duel—a +duel with Circumstance, and Mr. +Opp was vanquished. The acknowledgment +of defeat, even to himself, gave it +the final stamp of verity. He had fought +valiantly, with what poor weapons he +had, but the thrusts had been too many +<a name="png.318" id="png.318"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">313</span><span class="ns">] + </span>and too sure. He lay clothed in his +strange new garment of humility, and +wondered why he did not want to die. +He did not realize that in losing everything +else, he had won the greater stake +of character for which he had been unconsciously +fighting all along.</p> + +<p>The kitchen door opened, and he saw +Miss Kippy’s figure silhouetted against +the light.</p> + +<p>“Brother D.,” she called impatiently, +“ain’t you coming back to play with +me?”</p> + +<p>He scrambled to his feet and made a +hasty and somewhat guilty effort to compose +himself.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">“Yes, I’m a-coming,” he answered +briskly, as he smoothed his scant locks +and straightened his tie. “You go on +ahead and gather up the blocks; I only +stopped playing for a little spell.”</p> + + + +<h2 class="chap"><a name="png.319" id="png.319"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">314</span><span class="ns">] + </span>XVIII</h2> + + +<p class="start"><img class="initial" src="images/t-initial.png" + alt="T" title="T" width="149" height="150" /><span>he</span> marriage of Guinevere +Gusty and Willard Hinton +took place in mid-winter, +and the account +of it, published in the +last issue of “The Opp +Eagle,” proved that the eagle, like the +swan, has its death-song.</p> + +<p>Like many of the masterpieces of literature, +the article had been written in +anguish of spirit; but art, like nature, +ignores the process, and reckons only the +result, and the result, in Mr. Opp’s opinion +at least, more than justified the effort.</p> + +<p>“In these strenuous, history-making +meanderings of the sands of life,” it +ran, “we sometimes overlook or neglect +particulars in events which prove of +larger importance than appears on the +surface. The case to which we have +<a name="png.320" id="png.320"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">315</span><span class="ns">] + </span>allusion to is the wedding which was solemnized +at eventide at the residence of +the bride’s mother. The Gustys may +be justly considered one of the best-furnished +families in the county, and the +parlors were only less beautiful than the +only daughter there presiding. The collation +served therein was of such a liberal +nature that every guest, we might +venture to say, took dinner enough home +for supper. It has seldom been our fate +to meet a gentleman of such intelligent +attainments as Mr. Hinton, and his entire +future existence, be it long or short, +cannot fail of being thrice blessed by +the companionship of the one who has +confided her trust to him,—her choice, +world-wide. Although a bachelor ourself, +we know what happiness must be +theirs, and with all our heart we vouchsafe +them a joyful voyage across the uncertain +billows of Time until their nuptial +or matrimonial bark shall have +been safely moored in the haven of everlasting +bliss, where the storms of this +life spread not their violence.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.321" id="png.321"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">316</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Some men spend their lives in the valley, +and some are born and die on the +heights; but it was Mr. Opp’s fate to +climb from the valley to his own little +mountain-top of prosperity, only to have +to climb down on the other side. It was +evidence of his genius that in time he +persuaded himself and his fellow-citizens +that it was exactly what he wanted +to do.</p> + +<p>“That there life of managing and promoting +was all right in its way,” he said +one day to a group of men at the post-office, +“but a man owes something to +himself, don’t he? Now that the town +has got well started, and Mr. Hinton is +going to take main charge of the paper, +I’ll be freer than I been for years to put +some of my ideas into practice.”</p> + +<p>“We are counting on getting you back +in the orchestra,” said Mr. Gallop, +whose admiration for Mr. Opp retained +its pristine bloom.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp shook his head regretfully. +“No, I’m going to give all my evenings +over to study. This present enterprise I +<a name="png.322" id="png.322"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">317</span><span class="ns">] + </span>am engaged on requires a lot of personal +application. I sometimes think that I +have in the past scattered my forces too +much, in a way.”</p> + +<p>So persistently did Mr. Opp refer to +the mysterious work that was engrossing +him that he reduced Mr. Gallop’s curiosity +to the saturation-point.</p> + +<p>When he was no longer able to stand +it, the telegraph operator determined +upon a tour of investigation. The projected +presentation of a new cornet by +the Unique Orchestra to its erstwhile +leader proved a slender excuse for a call, +and while he knew that, with the exception +of Willard Hinton, no visitor had +ever been known to cross the Opp threshold, +yet he permitted desire to overrule +delicacy.</p> + +<p>It was a blustery December night when +he climbed the hill, and he had to pause +several times during the ascent to gain +sufficient breath to proceed. By the time +he reached the house he was quite speechless, +and he dropped on the steps to rest +a moment before knocking. As he sat +<a name="png.323" id="png.323"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">318</span><span class="ns">] + </span>there trying to imagine the flying-machine +or torpedo-boat upon which he +felt certain Mr. Opp was engaged, he +became aware of voices from within, and +looking up, he saw the window above him +was slightly raised. Overcome by his +desire to see his friend at work upon his +great invention, he cautiously tiptoed +across the porch and peeped in.</p> + +<p>The low-ceilinged old room was bright +with firelight, and in the center of it, with +his knees drawn up, his toes turned in, +and his tongue thrust out, sat Mr. Opp, +absorbed in an object which he held between +his knees. Miss Kippy knelt before +him, eagerly watching proceedings.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gallop craned his neck to see what +it was that held their interest, and at last +discovered that they were fitting a dress +on a large china doll.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">Miss Kippy’s voice broke the silence. +“You can sew nice,” she was saying; +“you can sew prettier than Aunt Tish.”</p> + +<p class="illus pgbrk"><a name="png.324" id="png.324"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">319</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img src="images/illus324.jpg" width="450" height="720" + alt="" title="" /><br + />“‘Can’t nobody beat me making skirts’”</p> + +<p>“Can’t nobody beat me making +skirts,” said Mr. Opp, and Mr. Gallop +saw him push his needle through a bit of +<a name="png.326" id="png.326"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">321</span><span class="ns">] + </span>cloth, with the handle of the shovel; “but +sleeves is a more particular proposition. +Why, I’d rather thread three needles +than to fix in one sleeve! Why don’t you +make like it’s summer-time and let her +go without any?”</p> + +<p>Miss Kippy’s lips trembled. “I want +sleeves, D.—two of them, and a lady’s +hat, with roses on it. We can let <em>her</em> be +grown up, can’t we, D.?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gallop beat a hasty and shame-faced +retreat. Though his idol had +fallen from its pedestal, he determined +to stand guard over the fragments, and +from that night on, he constituted himself +Mr. Opp’s loyal defender.</p> + +<p>And Mr. Gallop was not the only one +who came forth boldly in expressions of +sympathy and respect for the ex-editor. +It was especially easy for those who had +prospered by the oil boom to express unbounded +admiration for the conscientious +stand he had taken in the late +transaction. They had done him a grave +injustice, they acknowledged. The wells +had been reinvestigated and proved of +<a name="png.327" id="png.327"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">322</span><span class="ns">] + </span>small value. The fact that the truth was +discovered too late to affect their luck +deepened their appreciation of Mr. Opp.</p> + +<p>Willard Hinton, seeing what balm +these evidences of approval brought to +Mr. Opp’s wounded spirit, determined +to arrange for a banquet to the retiring +editor, at which he planned to bring +forth as many testimonials of friendship +and good-will as was possible.</p> + +<p>The affair was to take place New +Year’s night, in the dining-room of Fallows’s +new Your Hotel. The entire masculine +contingent of the Cove was +invited, and the feminine element prepared +the supper. There had never been +a social event of such an ambitious +nature attempted in the Cove before, and +each citizen took a personal pride in its +success.</p> + +<p>For a week in advance the town was +in violent throes of speech-writing, cake-baking, +salad-mixing, and decorating. +Even Mrs. Fallows warmed to the occasion, +and crocheted a candlestick, candle, +flame, and all, to grace the table.</p> + +<p><a name="png.328" id="png.328"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">323</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>When the night arrived, Jimmy Fallows +did the honors. He was resplendent +in his dress-suit, which consisted of a +black sateen shirt and a brown suit of +clothes.</p> + +<p>When the guests were all seated, Willard +Hinton rose, and in a few brief, +pointed remarks, called the attention of +the town to the changes that had been +wrought by the indefatigable efforts of +one citizen in particular. He spoke of +the debt of gratitude they owed, collectively +and individually, to the late editor +of “The Opp Eagle,” and added that +after Mr. Opp’s response, the guests desired, +each in turn, to voice his sentiments +upon the subject.</p> + +<p>Mr. Opp then rose amid a thunder of +applause, and stood for a moment in +pleased but overwhelming embarrassment. +Then he put forward one foot +inflated his chest, and began:</p> + +<p>“Valued brother fellow-beings, I come +before you to-night to express that which +there is no words in the English vocabulary +to express. Whatever you may +<a name="png.329" id="png.329"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">324</span><span class="ns">] + </span>have to say concerning me, or my part +in the awakening of this our native city, +I shall listen at with a grateful heart. I +believe in a great future for Cove City. +We may not live to see it, but I believe +that the day will arrive when our city +shall be the gateway to the South, when +the river front will be not dissimilar to +Main Street, New York. I predict that +it reaches a pivot of prominence of which +we wot not of. As for Mr. Hinton, one +and all we welcome him amid our +mongst. ‘The Opp Eagle’ strikes palms +with ‘The Weekly News,’ and wishes it +a lasting and eternal success.”</p> + +<p>A burst of applause interrupted the +flow of his eloquence, and as he glanced +around the room, he saw there was some +commotion at the door. A turbaned +head caught his eye, then Aunt Tish’s +beckoning hand.</p> + +<p>Hastily excusing himself, he made his +way through the crowd, and bent to hear +her message.</p> + +<p>“Hit’s Miss Kippy,” she whispered. +“I hate to ’sturb you, but she done crack +<a name="png.330" id="png.330"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">325</span><span class="ns">] + </span>her doll’s head, an’ she’s takin’ on so, I +can’t do nuffin ’t all wif her.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t you contrive to get her +quiet no way at all?” asked Mr. Opp, +anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Naw, sir. She mek like dat doll her +shore ’nough baby, and she ’low she +gwine die, too, furst chanct she gits. I +got Val’s mother to stay wif her till I +git back.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said Mr. Opp, hastily. +“You go right on and tell her I’m coming.”</p> + +<p>When he reëntered the dining-room, +he held his hat in his hand.</p> + +<p>“I find a urgent matter of business +calls me back home; for only a few moments, +I trust,” he said apologetically, +with bows and smiles. “If the banquet +will kindly proceed, I will endeavor to +return in ample time for the final +speeches.”</p> + +<p>With the air of a monarch taking temporary +leave of his subjects, he turned +his back upon the gay, protesting crowd, +upon the feast prepared in his honor, +<a name="png.331" id="png.331"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">326</span><span class="ns">] + </span>upon the speech-making, so dear to his +heart. Tramping through the snow of +the deserted street, through the lonely +graveyard, and along the river road, he +went to bind up the head of a china doll, +and to wipe away the tears of a little +half-crazed sister.</p> + +<p>He wears the same checked suit as +when we saw him first, worn and frayed, +to be sure, but carefully pressed for the +occasion, the same brave scarf and pin, +and watch fob, though the watch is missing.</p> + +<p>Passing out of sight with the sleet in +his face, and the wind cutting through +his finery, he whistles as he goes, such a +plucky, sturdy, hopeful whistle as calls +to arms the courage that lies slumbering +in the hearts of men.</p> + + +<p class="fin"><small>THE END</small></p> + + +</div> + +<hr class="pg" /> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Opp, by Alice Hegan Rice + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. OPP *** + +***** This file should be named 25070-h.htm or 25070-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/0/7/25070/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Wilson 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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/25070-h/images/a-initial.png b/25070-h/images/a-initial.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd0d2df --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/a-initial.png diff --git a/25070-h/images/b-initial.png b/25070-h/images/b-initial.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2327698 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/b-initial.png diff --git a/25070-h/images/f-initial.png b/25070-h/images/f-initial.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f93e341 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/f-initial.png diff --git a/25070-h/images/h-initial.png b/25070-h/images/h-initial.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8de3cd --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/h-initial.png diff --git a/25070-h/images/i-initial.png b/25070-h/images/i-initial.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6af1220 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/i-initial.png diff --git a/25070-h/images/illus001.jpg b/25070-h/images/illus001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..421d774 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/illus001.jpg diff --git a/25070-h/images/illus050.jpg b/25070-h/images/illus050.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d4bb3c --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/illus050.jpg diff --git a/25070-h/images/illus134.jpg b/25070-h/images/illus134.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb63a77 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/illus134.jpg diff --git a/25070-h/images/illus202.jpg b/25070-h/images/illus202.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..27c7d49 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/illus202.jpg diff --git a/25070-h/images/illus268.jpg b/25070-h/images/illus268.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c0a35c --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/illus268.jpg diff --git a/25070-h/images/illus324.jpg b/25070-h/images/illus324.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..45c35a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/illus324.jpg diff --git a/25070-h/images/j-initial.png b/25070-h/images/j-initial.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3d638f --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/j-initial.png diff --git a/25070-h/images/l-initial.png b/25070-h/images/l-initial.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1e627b3 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/l-initial.png diff --git a/25070-h/images/logo-002.png b/25070-h/images/logo-002.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..47b0011 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/logo-002.png diff --git a/25070-h/images/m-initial.png b/25070-h/images/m-initial.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dd922d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/m-initial.png diff --git a/25070-h/images/t-initial.png b/25070-h/images/t-initial.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a86605 --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/t-initial.png diff --git a/25070-h/images/w-initial.png b/25070-h/images/w-initial.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..142052a --- /dev/null +++ b/25070-h/images/w-initial.png |
