diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:43 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:43 -0700 |
| commit | c7f2bce282cc50c4af3026724d8ccb836c230048 (patch) | |
| tree | 3c45b6934169998bab1dff96e0a6408fea01a726 /2725-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '2725-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 2725-h/2725-h.htm | 6202 |
1 files changed, 6202 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/2725-h/2725-h.htm b/2725-h/2725-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1aadd62 --- /dev/null +++ b/2725-h/2725-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6202 @@ +<!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" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + Red Pepper Burns, by Grace S. Richmond + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2725 ***</div> + <h1> + RED PEPPER BURNS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Grace S. Richmond + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE VOWS A VOW + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE CREATES A CIRCUS + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE ASSUMES A RESPONSIBILITY + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE MAKES A CONCESSION + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE IS ROUGH ON A FRIEND + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE PRESCRIBES FOR HIMSELF + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE CONTINUES TO SAW WOOD + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE IS UNREASONABLY PREOCCUPIED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE SUFFERS A DEFEAT + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE PROVES HIMSELF A HOST + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE GETS EVEN WITH HIMSELF + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE HAS HIS OWN WAY + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE MAKES NO EVENING CALL + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH HE DEFIES SUPERSTITION + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. IN WHICH HE VOWS A VOW + </h2> + <p> + “There comes the Green Imp.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you tell?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you hear? Red's coming in on five cylinders for all he can get out + of 'em. Anybody else would stop and fix up. He's in too much of a hurry—as + usual.” + </p> + <p> + The Green Imp tore past the porch where Burns's neighbours waved arms of + greeting which he failed to see, for he did not turn his head. The car + went round the curve of the driveway at perilous speed, and only the fact + that from road to old red barn was a good twenty rods made it seem + possible that the Green Imp could come to a standstill in time to prevent + its banging into the rear wall of the barn. + </p> + <p> + Two minutes later Burns ran by the Chesters' porch on his way to his own. + Chester hailed him. + </p> + <p> + “What's your everlasting hurry, Red? Come up and sit down and cool off.” + </p> + <p> + “Not now,” called back a voice curtly, out of the June twilight. The big + figure ran on and disappeared into the small house, the door slamming shut + behind it. + </p> + <p> + “Red's in a temper. Tell by the sound of his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Is he ever in anything except a temper?” inquired a guest of the + Chesters. Arthur Chester turned on her. + </p> + <p> + “Show's you don't know him much, Pauline. He's the owner of the fiercest + good disposition ever heard of. He's the pepperest proposition of an angel + this earth has ever seen. He's a red-headed, sharp-tongued brute of a + saint—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Arthur Chester!” + </p> + <p> + “He's a pot of mustard that's clear balm—if you don't mind getting + stung when it's applied.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, of all the—” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going over to get something for this abominable headache—and, + incidentally, to find out what's the row. He's probably lost a patient—it + always goes to his brain like that. When he abuses his beloved engine that + way it's because some other machinery has stopped somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “If he's lost a patient you'd better let him alone, dear,” advised his + wife, Winifred. + </p> + <p> + “No—he needs to get his mind off it, on me. I can fix up a few + symptoms for him.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll see through you,” called Mrs. Chester softly, after him. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt of that. But it may divert him, just the same.” + </p> + <p> + Chester made his way across the lawn and in at the side door which led to + the dimly lighted village offices of Redfield Pepper Burns, physician and + surgeon. Not that the gilt-lettered sign on the glass of the office door + read that way. “R. P. Burns, M.D.” was the brief inscription above the + table of “office hours,” and the owner of the name invariably so curtailed + it. But among his friends the full name had inevitably been turned into + the nickname, for the big, red-haired, quick-tempered, warm-hearted fellow + was “Red Pepper Burns” as irresistibly to them as he had been, a decade + earlier, to his classmates in college. + </p> + <p> + As Chester went in at the door a figure arose slowly from its position—flung + full length, face downward, on a couch in the shadowy inner office and + came into view. + </p> + <p> + “Toothache? Dentist down the street,” said a blurred voice + unsympathetically. + </p> + <p> + Chester laughed. “Oh, come, Red,” said he. “Give me some of that headache + dope. I'm all out.” + </p> + <p> + “Glad to hear it. You don't get any more from me.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? I've got a sure-enough headache—I didn't come over to quiz + you. The blamed thing whizzes like a buzz saw.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't help it. Go soak it.” + </p> + <p> + Chester advanced. “I'll get the powders myself, then. I know the bottle.” + </p> + <p> + A substantial barrier interposed. “No, you don't. You've taken up six + ounces of that stuff in seven days. You quit to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Red, what's the use of taking it out on me like that, if you + are mad at something? If your head—” + </p> + <p> + “I wish it did ache—like ten thousand furies. It might take some of + the pressure off somewhere else,” growled R. P. Burns. He shut the door of + the inner office hard behind him. + </p> + <p> + “I thought so,” declared Arthur Chester, suddenly forgetting about his + headache in his anxiety to know the explanation of the five cylinders. It + was a small suburban town in which they lived, and if something had gone + wrong it was a matter of common interest. “Can you tell me about it?” he + asked—a little diffidently, for none knew better than he that things + could not always be told, and that no lips were locked tighter than Red + Pepper's when the secret was not his to tell. + </p> + <p> + “Engine's on the blink. Got to go out and fix it,” was the unpromising + reply. Burns picked up a sparkplug from the office desk as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Had your dinner?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't want it.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I go out with you?” + </p> + <p> + The answer was an unintelligible grunt. As Chester was about to follow his + friend out—for there could be no doubt that Red Pepper Burns was his + friend in spite of this somewhat surly, though by no means unusual, + treatment—another door opened tentatively, and a head was cautiously + inserted. + </p> + <p> + “Your dinner's ready, Doctor Burns,” said a doubtful voice. + </p> + <p> + Burns turned. “Leave a pitcher of milk on the table for me, Cynthia,” he + said in a gentler voice than Chester had yet heard from him tonight, crisp + though it was. “Nothing else.” + </p> + <p> + Chester, catching a glimpse of a brightly lighted dining-room and a table + lavishly spread, undertook to remonstrate. He had seen the housekeeper's + disappointed face, also. But Burns cut him short. + </p> + <p> + “Come along—if you must,” said he, and stalked out into the night. + </p> + <p> + For an hour, in the light from one of the Green Imp's lamps, Chester sat + on an overturned box and watched Burns work. He worked savagely, as if + applying surgical measures to a mood as well as to a machine. He worked + like a skilled mechanic as well; every turn of a nut, every polish of a + thread meaning definite means to an end. The night was hot and he had + thrown off coat and collar and rolled his sleeves high, so a brawny arm + gleamed in the bright lamplight, and the open shirt exposed a powerful + neck. Chester, who was of slighter build and not as tall as he would have + liked to be, watched enviously. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever goes wrong with your affairs, Red,” he observed suddenly, + breaking a long interval during which the engine had been made to throb + and whirl like the “ten thousand furies” to whom its engineer had lately + made allusion, “you have the tremendous asset of a magnificent body to + fall back on for comfort.” + </p> + <p> + With a movement of the hand Burns stopped his engine, now running quietly, + and stood up straight. He threw out one bare arm, grimy and oily with his + labours. “Two hours ago,” said he in a voice now controlled and solemn, + “if by cutting off that right arm at the shoulder I could have saved a + human life I'd have done it.” + </p> + <p> + “And now,” retorted Chester quickly, “now, two hours after—would you + cut it off now?” + </p> + <p> + Red Pepper looked at him. The arm dropped. “No,” said he, “I wouldn't. Not + for a dozen lives like that. I'm not heroic, after all—only hot and + cold by jumps, like a thermometer. But I ache all over, just the same. She + runs like a bird now. Jump in—we'll take a spin and try her out on + the road. I may need her before midnight.” + </p> + <p> + Nothing loth, for he knew the Green Imp and her driver and had had many a + swift run on a moonlight night before in the same company, Chester took + the slim roadster's other seat, watching the long green hood point the way + down the driveway, past the porch where the women, in white gowns showing + coolly in the light from the arc lamp at the corner of the street, called + a goodbye. + </p> + <p> + “Back—some time,” replied Chester's voice, rising above the low purr + of the engine with a note of satisfaction in it. The figure beside him, + still in open, white shirt, with bare arms and uncovered, thick thatch of + red hair, did not turn its head. + </p> + <p> + “Arthur's never so happy as when he's out with Red in the Green Imp,” + Winifred said to her guest as the roadster shot away under the elms which + drooped beneath the arc light. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor Burns is certainly the oddest man I ever saw,” replied the guest, + swinging idly in the hammock and watching the car out of sight down the + long vista of the village street. “He hasn't given me one real good look + yet. I suppose if I were a patient he would favour me with an all-seeing + gaze out of those Irish-Scotch barbarian eyes of his, but as it is”—her + voice was slightly petulant—“I believe I shall have to do as Arthur + has: make up some symptoms and go over to his office.” + </p> + <p> + “If you do you'll get precisely the same treatment I presume Arthur had.” + Mrs. Chester laughed as she spoke. “I doubt very much whether he comes + back with any headache medicine.” + </p> + <p> + “But he got a moonlight ride in that beauty of a car,” the guest declared + enviously. “That treatment would suit me wonderfully well, whatever was + the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you have gone with him in his shirt-sleeves? He's plainly in a + shirt-sleeve mood to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “I think a drive in the moonlight with a 'brute of a saint' in + shirt-sleeves, with arms like those, might be interesting,” mused the + guest, indicating invisible patterns on the porch with the toe of a white + slipper. + </p> + <p> + “He would probably talk cars and engines every mile in the most + matter-of-fact way,” Winifred Chester assured her. “No woman yet has ever + been able, as far as this town knows, to strike a spark of romance out of + Red Pepper Burns.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet he has red hair,” murmured the guest to herself, and continued to + look thoughtfully down the street along which the Green Imp had shot out + toward the open country beyond. + </p> + <p> + Out in that open country, miles away, the car running with that exquisite + precision of rotating cylinder explosions which is music to the trained + ear of the mechanic at the wheel, the two men sat silent. The pace of the + Green Imp was one to cut off speech, for the road wets straight and empty, + stretching like a white ribbon under the stars, with now and then a band + of midnight shade crossing it where arching tree-tops met the course which + invites an open throttle and the intent eye which goes with it. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the car struck aside from the straightaway and with open cut-out + roared up a steep hill by means of which a narrow road led off toward a + part of the country not often selected by motorists for pleasure spins. + Chester recognized that his companion had a purpose beyond that of “trying + out” his engine, unless, indeed, the tough and rocky grade were a test. + But Burns was still silent, and the other man applied himself to holding + on. A mile up the road the car came to an abrupt standstill before a tiny + house. + </p> + <p> + “Going to make a call, after all?” was on Chester's lips, but the sight of + something, showing white beside the door in the lamplight which streamed + out upon a small, decrepit porch, drove back the words. + </p> + <p> + Burns left a silent engine and strode up the straggling path with the + light tread of the heavy man whose muscles are under his control. He + walked in at the open door without knocking, and Chester caught the sharp + sound of a woman's voice at a tension, saying: “Oh, Doctor!” + </p> + <p> + It seemed to him an hour, though by his watch it was but nine minutes, + that he sat watching the little flimsy streamer of white flutter to and + fro in the lamplight, his heart beating heavily, as a father's will at + sight of the sign of some other man's loss. + </p> + <p> + At the end of those interminable nine minutes Burns was back again in the + car. He turned the Green Imp about as quietly as if she were a cat + stealing out of the yard, and sent her down the rocky road at her slowest + speed. At the bottom of the hill he broke the long silence. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't have slept an hour if I hadn't come back,” he said in a low + tone. “Back and apologized for being a brute. It's eased me up a bit I + think it's eased her, too, poor soul.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it wasn't losing the case,” Chester began doubtfully. He was never + sure just when it was safe to ask Red Pepper questions, but he thought it + seemed safer than usual now. + </p> + <p> + “No, it wasn't losing the case, though that was bad enough. It was losing + my infernal hair-trigger of a temper that's been cutting in like a knife. + I had the boy where he ought to get well if they followed my precautions a + thousand times repeated. This morning his heart was a whole lot stronger; + it only needed time. Tonight his mother let him sit up—in spite of + all I'd threatened her with if she did. He went out like a snuffed candle. + When I saw it I was so angry with her I”—he thrust up one hand and + ran it through his thick locks with a gesture of savagery—“I let + loose on her—poor soul with her heart already broken. He was the + only boy—of course,—I ought to have been shot on the spot.” + </p> + <p> + He sent the car flying down the road. Chester could think of nothing to + say. He could imagine the sort of apology Red had given the boy's mother—one + to make her forgive and adore him. No doubt it had “eased her.” It must + have been a hard thing for R. P. Burns, M.D., to do. Suddenly recalling + this he said so, and added a word of admiration. Burns turned on him. + </p> + <p> + “Boy,” he said, “I'm the toughest case on my list. I'm a chronic patient. + Just as I think I have myself in hand I suffer a relapse. I break out in a + new place. Of all men who need self-control, it's a surgeon needs it most. + Sometimes, I'm in too much of a temper to operate—just because a + nurse has failed to provide the right sutures. Every red hair on my head + stands up like a porcupine's quills—my hand isn't steady—I can't + trust my own judgment till I've cooled down. There's only one hope for me—” + </p> + <p> + He broke off abruptly, and the Green Imp accelerated her pace as they came + to the long, straight road home. Until they reached the turn under the + elms which led to the town, he left the sentence unfinished, while Chester + waited. Chester felt it would be worth waiting for—that which Red + Pepper might say next. When it came it surprised him—it even gave + him a strange thrill coming from Red Pepper. + </p> + <p> + “I've put my case into the only competent hands,” said Burns slowly and + quite simply. “I've promised my Maker I'll never insult His name again.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. IN WHICH HE CREATES A CIRCUS + </h2> + <p> + “Doctor Burns—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Miss Mathewson.” + </p> + <p> + “The long-distance telephone, please.” + </p> + <p> + Burns excused himself to the last patient of the evening series, and shut + himself in with the long-distance. When he came out he was looking at his + watch. From its face he turned to that of his office nurse—the one + hardly less businesslike in expression than the other. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Mathewson, my aunt telephones that my father and mother are both + sick, each anxious to distraction about the other, she about them both, + and under the weather herself. If you and I can catch the ten-fifteen + to-night we can be there by two, and by leaving there at four we can be + back here in time for the morning's operations. If they need you I'll + leave you there for a day or two—by your leave. We'll take the Green + Imp into the city—the ten-fifteen doesn't stop here. Then it'll be + at the hospital when we want it in the morning. You've twenty minutes to + get ready.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Doctor Burns.” + </p> + <p> + The office bell rang. Burns fled toward the inner office. Miss Mathewson + discovered the guest of the Chesters on the doorstep—all in white, + with a face which usually stimulated interest wherever it was seen. + </p> + <p> + “May I see Doctor Burns just a minute—for Mr. Chester?” The caller + took her cue cleverly from Miss Mathewson's face, which at the moment + expressed schedules and engagements thick as blackberries in August. + Burns, just closing the inner door, caught Chester's name. He pulled off + his white office coat, slid into his gray tweed one, and opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “What can I do for Mr. Chester—in three minutes?” he inquired, + coming forward. Miss Mathewson, aware of the shortness of time, vanished. + </p> + <p> + “Give me something for his headache, please,” replied the young person in + white promptly. Schedules and engagements were in R. P. Burns's eyes also; + they looked at her without appearing to see her at all. To this she was + not accustomed and it displeased her. + </p> + <p> + “Was it too severe for him to come himself?” + </p> + <p> + “Much too severe. He has gone to bed with it.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Chester closely attending him?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly—or I shouldn't be here.” The eyes of the Chesters' guest + sparkled. Something about the cool tone of this question displeased her + still more. + </p> + <p> + “Tell him to get up and go out and walk a mile, breathing deep all the + way.” + </p> + <p> + “No medicine?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a grain. He ought to know better than to ask.” + </p> + <p> + “He does, I think. He suggested that possibly if I asked—But I see + for myself how that wouldn't make the slightest difference.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad your perceptions are so acute,” replied Burns gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Are the three minutes up?” asked the caller. + </p> + <p> + He looked at his watch. “I think not quite. Is there anything of + importance to fill the one remaining?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing whatever—except to mention your fee.” The guest receded + gracefully from the door. + </p> + <p> + “If the patient will follow directions I'll ask no fee. If he doesn't I'll + exact one when I see him again. Forgive my haste, Miss—Halstead?” + </p> + <p> + “Hempstead,” corrected the caller crisply. “Don't mention it, Doctor—Brown. + Good night.” + </p> + <p> + The Chesters' guest lingered on the porch before going in to report the + failure of her mission. She was still lingering there when the Green Imp, + carrying no open-shirted mechanic, but a properly clothed professional + gentleman and a severely dressed professional lady, whirled away down the + drive. + </p> + <p> + “He really was going somewhere in a hurry, then,” admitted the guest. “In + which case I can't be quite so offended. I wonder if that nurse enjoys her + trips with him—when his mouth doesn't happen to be shut like a steel + trap.” + </p> + <p> + If she could have seen the pair on the train which presently bore them + flying away across the state, she would hardly have envied either of them. + Between abstraction on the one side and reserve an the other, they + exchanged less conversation than two strangers might have done. When Miss + Mathewson's eyes drooped with weariness her companion made her as + comfortable as he could and bade her rest. His own eyes were untouched by + slumber: he stared straight before him or out into the night, seeing + nothing but a white farmhouse far ahead, where his anxious thoughts were + waiting for his body to catch up. + </p> + <p> + “Are they much sick, Zeke?” + </p> + <p> + “Wal, I dunno hardly, Red.—You goin' to drive? They're pretty + lively, them blacks. Ain't used to comin' to the station at two o'clock in + the mornin'. Your ma's been worryin' about your pa for a consid'able + spell, and now that she's took down so severe herself he's gone to pieces + some. Miss Ellen'll be glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + The blacks covered the mile from the station as they had never covered it + before, and Burns was in the house five minutes before they had expected + him. + </p> + <p> + “Mother, here's your big boy.—Dad, here I am—here's Red. Bless + your hearts—you wanted me, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + They could hardly tell him how they had wanted him, but he saw it in their + faces. + </p> + <p> + “I've got to take the four o'clock back—worse luck!—for some + operations I can't postpone. But between now and then I'm going to look + you over and set you straight, and I'll be back again in two days if you + need me. Now for it. Mother first. Come here, Aunt Ellen, and tell me all + about her.” + </p> + <p> + R. P. Burns, M.D., had never been quicker nor more thorough at examination + of a pair of patients than with these. He went straight at them both, each + in the presence of the other, Miss Mathewson capably assisting. With his + most professional air he asked his questions, applied his trained senses + to the searching tests made of special organs, and gave directions for + future treatment. Then he sat back and looked at them. + </p> + <p> + “Do I appear worried about her, Dad?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you don't seem to, Red.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Mathewson, should you gather from my appearance that I am consumed + with anxiety?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you seem very much relieved, Doctor Burns.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother, as you look at Dad over on the couch there, does he strike you as + appearing like a frightfully sick man?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Burns smiled faintly in the direction of the couch, but her eyes came + immediately back to her son's. “He seems a good deal better since you + came, Redfield.” + </p> + <p> + “There's not a thing the matter with either of you except what can be + fixed up in a week. You've got scared to death about each other, and + that's pulled you both down. What you need more than anything else is to + go to a circus—and, by George!—Since I didn't observe any + tents in the darkness as we drove along, you shall have one come to you. + Look here! Did you know I'd kept up my old athletic stunts these nine + years since I left college?” + </p> + <p> + He pulled off his coat, waistcoat, collar, shoes, rolled his shirt-sleeves + as high as they would go, and turned a series of handsprings across the + wide room. Then he stood on his head; he balanced chairs on his chin; he + seized his father's hickory stick and went through a set of military + evolutions. Then he put on his shoes, eyeing his patients with + satisfaction. His mother had lifted her head to watch him, and Miss + Mathewson had tucked an extra pillow under it. His father had drawn + himself up to a half-sitting posture and was regarding his son with pride. + </p> + <p> + “I never thought so well of those doings before,” he was saying. “If + they've kept you as supple as a willow, in spite of your weight, I should + say you'd better keep 'em up.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet I will!—See here, Aunt Ellen—you used to play the + 'Irish Washerwoman: Mind playing it now? Miss Mathewson and I are going to + do a cakewalk.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced, laughing, at his office nurse. She was staring at him + wide-eyed. He threw back his head, showing a splendid array of white teeth + as he roared at her expression. + </p> + <p> + “Forget 'Doctor Burns,' please,” said he, in answer to the expression. + “He's discharged this case as not serious enough for him, and left it to + Red Pepper to administer a few gentle stimulants on the quack order. Come! + You can do a cake walk! Forget you're a graduate of any training school + but the vaudeville show!” + </p> + <p> + He caught her hand. Flushing so that her plain face became almost pretty, + she yielded—for the hand was insistent. Miss Ellen leaned bewildered + against the door which led to the sitting-room where the old piano stood. + Her nephew looked at her again, with the eyes which the Chesters' guest + had somewhat incoherently described as “Irish-Scotch-barbarian.” He said, + “Please, Aunt Ellen, there's a good fellow,” at which Mr. Burns, Senior, + chuckled under his breath; for anything less like that of a “good fellow” + was never seen than Sister Ellen's prim little personality. Miss Ellen + went protestingly to the piano. Was it right, her manner said, to be + performing in this idiotic manner at this unholy hour of three o'clock in + the morning—in a sick-room? + </p> + <p> + It mattered little whether Miss Mathewson could or could not dance the + “Irish Washerwoman,” or any other antic dance improvised to that live air; + she had only to yield herself to Red Pepper Burns's hands and steps, and + let him disport himself around her. A most startlingly hilarious + performance was immediately and effectively produced. At the height of it, + a door across the sitting-room, which commanded a strip of the bedroom + beyond, opened cautiously and Zeke Crandall's eye glued itself to the + aperture, an eye astonished beyond belief. + </p> + <p> + “If that there Red ain't a-cuttin' up jest exactly as he used to when he + was a boy—and his pa and ma sick a-bed! If 'twas anybody but Red I'd + say he was crazy.” + </p> + <p> + Then he caught the sound of a laugh from lips he had not heard laugh like + that for a year—a chuckling, delighted laugh, only slightly + asthmatic and wholly unrestrained. He began to laugh himself. + </p> + <p> + “If folks round here could see Red Burns now they'd never believe the + stories about his gettin' to be such a darned successful man at his + business,” he reflected. “Of all the goin's on! Look at him now! An' that + nurse! An' Miss Ellen a-playin' for 'em! Oh, my eye!” + </p> + <p> + Songs followed—college songs, popular airs, opera bits—all + delivered in' a resounding barytone and accompanied by thumping chords + improvised by the performer. Out through the open windows they floated, + and one astonished villages driving by to take the early train caught the + exultant strains: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Oh, see dat watermillion a-smilin' fro' de fence, + How I wish dat watermillion it was mine. + Oh, de white folks must be foolish, + Dey need a heap of sense, + Or dey'd nebber leave it dar upon de vine! + Oh, de ham-bone am sweet, + An' de bacon am good, + An' de 'possum fat am berry, berry fine; + But gib me, yes, gib me, + Oh, how I wish you would, + Dat watermillion growin' on de vine!” + </pre> + <p> + Before they knew it the early morning light was creeping in at the + small-paned windows. Burns consulted his watch. + </p> + <p> + “If you'll give us a cup of coffee, Aunt Ellen, we'll be off in fifteen + minutes. Miss Mathewson”—his glance mirthfully surveyed her—“Aunt + Ellen will take you upstairs and give you a chance to put that magnificent + brown hair into a condition where it will not shock the natives at the + station. As for mine—” + </p> + <p> + When Aunt Ellen and Miss Mathewson, each in her own way feeling as if she + had passed through an extraordinary experience likely never to occur + again, had hurried away, Burns applied himself to a process of + reconstruction. When every rebellious red hair had been reduced to its + usual order and his thick locks lay with the little wave in them as his + mother had begun to brush them years ago; when collar and cravat rose + sedately above the gray tweed coat, and a fresh, fine handkerchief had + replaced the dingy one which had been through every manner of exercise in + the “circus,” Burns drew up a chair and faced his patients with the keen, + professional gaze which told him whether or not his night's work had been + good therapeutics. + </p> + <p> + “When I've gone you're to have breakfast, and I think you'll both eat it,” + he said, smiling at them, his eyes bright with affection and contentment. + “Then you're to compose yourselves for sleep, and I think you'll both + sleep. To-morrow Dad's to be out on the porch—all June is out there, + and the roses are in full bloom. Day after to-morrow Mother'll be there, + too, in the hammock. As soon as these cases I operate on this morning are + out of danger I'll be down again for a whole day. I'll keep the time + clear.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid,” said his father, looking suddenly anxious for a new cause, + “your being up all night won't make your hand any steadier for those + operations, Red.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, as a matter of fact, Dad, it'll be a lot steadier just + because of my being up all night, assuring myself that there's nothing + serious the matter with you and Mother, except the need of a bit of + jollying by your boy—which you've certainly had right off the reel, + eh? Aunt Ellen thinks yet I've probably killed you. Are you the worse for + it, Mother? Give it to me straight, now!” + </p> + <p> + He bent over her, his fingers on her delicate wrist. She smiled up into + his eyes. “Redfield!” she murmured. “As if I could ever be the worse for + having you come home!” + </p> + <p> + He dropped on his knees beside the bed, looking at her with the eyes of + the boy she had borne. “Bless me, Mother,” he said unsteadily, all the fun + gone out of his face. “I—need it—to keep decent.” + </p> + <p> + The last three words were under his breath, but she heard the others and + laid her hand on the red head with a tremulous soft word or two which he + could barely catch. + </p> + <p> + In a minute he had risen, his cheek flushed high, and was gripping his + father's hand. “You, too, Dad,” he begged. “I'm only Red this morning—going + back into the world.” + </p> + <p> + His father's hand and voice shook as he administered the little ceremony, + used only once before in his son's life—when at fourteen he first + went away to school. Few grown men would have asked for it again, he felt + that. Coming from Red he was sure the request meant more than they could + know. + </p> + <p> + Then the professional gentleman whom the world knew—the world which + was not acquainted with Red Pepper Burns—and the professional lady + who was his assistant went decorously away into the early June morning. + Zeke was grinning to himself as he saw them step aboard the train. + </p> + <p> + “Looks mighty fine in them clipper-built city clothes, Red does,” he + reflected. “If that there young woman chose to give him away, now but I + kind of guess she won't—under the circumstances!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. IN WHICH HE ASSUMES A RESPONSIBILITY + </h2> + <p> + “Red, the new car is here. Come and look her over.” + </p> + <p> + It was Burns's neighbour on the other side, James Macauley, Junior. R. P. + Burns laid down his saw, with which in the late June twilight he had been + doing vigorous work at a small woodpile behind the house. He stood up + straight, throwing back his shoulders to take the kink out of them. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said he. “I think I'm fit for general society again. I wasn't + when I tackled this job. Nothing like fifteen minutes of woodpile for + taking the temper out of the saw—and the man.” + </p> + <p> + Macauley, a stout, good-humoured fellow of thirty-five, laughed. “That + temper of yours, Red has it been on the rampage again?” + </p> + <p> + “It has. Don't talk about it or it'll lift to confounded red head again—it's + only scotched for the present. New car's here, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and the pretty widow's here, too—my wife's sister, Ellen + Lessing. We've a great plan for tomorrow, Red. I can't venture to drive + this elephant of a car yet, but the women are wild for a trip in her. She + holds seven. Martha wants you to drive us and the Chesters to-morrow a + hundred and fifty miles—seventy-five to F —— and back. Will you + do it? You're not so horribly busy just now, and Mrs. Lessing and Pauline + Hempstead together ought to make it worth while for you.” + </p> + <p> + This feature of the invitation did not appear to appeal to Burns, but the + sight of the touring car, brave and shining in russet and brass, plainly + did. + </p> + <p> + “Not that I'd care to drive such a whale for myself, but I shouldn't mind + a run for the fun of trying her out. You say she's been driven enough to + warm up her engines? Suppose we take her out and let me get the feel of + her mouth before to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Come on.” And they were off. + </p> + <p> + “For a whale she's a bird,” was Burns's paradoxical verdict two hours + later. The “trying out” had merged into a smooth run of forty-five miles + at not anything like the full pace of which the motor was capable. “Best + not to overheat her at first. Run your first three hundred miles with + consideration for her vital organs—she'll have her wind by that + time.” + </p> + <p> + Next morning four women, long-coated, tissue-veiled, watched the brown + beauty roll invitingly up to Macauley's porch steps. + </p> + <p> + As she crossed the lawn with Winifred, Pauline Hempstead, the guest of the + Chesters, was studying not only the car, but the undeniably attractive + gray-clad figure of the lately-arrived younger sister of Mrs. Macauley. + “Will Red P. look at her any more than he does at me?” she murmured in + Winifred Chester's ear. + </p> + <p> + “I doubt it, my dear. But he'll be foolish if he doesn't, won't he?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care for widows myself.” + </p> + <p> + “I presume not.” Winifred laughed comprehendingly. + </p> + <p> + “How old is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-eight, I believe—though she doesn't look it.” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn't look it! She looks a lot more.” + </p> + <p> + Winifred laughed still, quietly. Although Pauline undoubtedly had the + advantage of Ellen in years, her fair-haired, blue-eyed, somewhat + sumptuous beauty was not of so youthful a type as the darker colouring and + slenderer outlines of Martha's sister. + </p> + <p> + The man at the wheel of the brown car lifted his leather cap as the women + came out, but he left all the bestowal of them to the other men. Miss + Hempstead asked to be allowed to sit beside the driver, but Macauley vowed + that on the first long run of his new machine he himself should occupy + that post of honour and interest. + </p> + <p> + “Coming back, then,” insisted the girl, and Macauley agreed reluctantly. + Burns made no comment, but applied himself to his task—not only + then, but also for every minute of the seventy-five miles to their + destination. + </p> + <p> + “He might as well be a hired chauffeur,” complained Miss Hempstead when, + during a stop of ten minutes on account of a switching freight train, she + had leaned forward and attempted in vain to carry on a conversation with + Burns. “That abstracted mood of his—is there any breaking into it?” + </p> + <p> + “Fall out and break your collar-bone. He'll be all attention,” advised + Chester. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. I'm almost tempted to. Why don't you drive awhile, Mr. + Macauley, and give him a rest?” + </p> + <p> + “And let him sit here in the middle with you? He couldn't be pried loose + from that wheel now. Besides, I haven't driven this car yet, and she's too + different in her steering from my old one. I shouldn't like to try with + this crowd behind me.” + </p> + <p> + They reached the distant city; drew up at the steps of the most attractive + hotel; went in to lunch. That is to say, all did this except R. P. Burns. + He remained in the garage in the rear where he had taken the car, busying + himself with some details of mechanism whose working did not quite suit + him. In spite of summons and appeals he continued to work until the rest + had finished; then he bolted in to wash off dust and engine grease, ate + his lunch in ten minutes—Macauley sitting by and expostulating—and + bolted out again. + </p> + <p> + “We're going to walk about a bit,” Chester announced, invading the garage. + “The girls insist that you come. Where are your eyes, man? If Pauline + bores you—I admit that she's a trifle persistent, but she's jolly + good company, I think—try Mrs. Lessing. She's delightful, and not + the pursuing style at all—she's learned better. She hasn't shown the + slightest interest in you all morning. That ought to attract you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to try a bit of adjustment on this timer now that Mac's out of + the way. Go along, and don't bother me.” Burns was in his shirt-sleeves + again and spoke gruffly. His cap was off, and thick locks lay damply + against his moist brow; in his eyes sparkled enthusiasm but not for women. + </p> + <p> + “You certainly are a hopeless case,” and Chester went back to his party. + </p> + <p> + “We might as well not have a bachelor along,” mourned Pauline. “Four women—with + only two old married men to look after them—it's a shame.” + </p> + <p> + “But we're both of us much handsomer than Red Pepper Burns,” asserted + James Macauley, Junior. “And I've hardly spoken a word to my wife since I + started—that sort of thing ought to content you.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't. And neither of you is half as good-looking as Doctor Burns. + He has the most interesting profile I ever saw—and I ought to know—I + seldom catch sight of his full face.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't suppose an interesting profile, whatever that is, would + offset a shock of fire-red hair. Now, both Chester's hair and mine—” + </p> + <p> + “His hair isn't fire-red. It's a—rather strong—auburn.” + </p> + <p> + Macauley shouted and the rest laughed with him. + </p> + <p> + “Rather strong! I should say it was. I've been worried about having him + sit near the gasoline tank, it brings his hair so close to a high + combustible. But it has one advantage: if we don't get home before dark we + shan't need to light up. Red's torch of a head will do the trick; we can + come in by the refulgence from that.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be sitting in its light going back, anyhow,” Miss Hempstead + exulted. + </p> + <p> + “Much good it will do you,” prophesied Chester. + </p> + <p> + It did Pauline so much good as that she was able to obtain many looks at + the profile she admired, for she saw it clean-cut against the passing + landscape for the sixty miles of daylight out of the seventy-five miles + home, while she sat beside its owner and tried many times to draw him into + talk. His taciturnity on this particular day was a thing beyond any + experience with it she had yet had. She had heard Burns talk, and talk + well, on many different subjects, the while he sat upon the Chesters' + porch of a summer evening, the three of them about him, and he had seemed + to enjoy talking. He certainly could not be wholly occupied with the + machine, for at no time did he let the engine out for what it could do, + but contented himself with a steady, moderate pace very different from the + sort of furious speed in which he and the Green Imp were accustomed to + indulge when occasion offered. Altogether he presented to the girl a + problem which she could not solve and was never further from solving than + during the seventy-five miles she sat beside him on the run home. + </p> + <p> + “You're all to come in and have an ice-cool, salad-y supper with us,” Mrs. + Macauley declared as the car turned in at the home driveway. “Hot coffee, + too, if you want it—or even beefsteak if you prefer. But I thought + since it was so hot—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take the beefsteak,” announced Burns over his shoulder, “if I find + nothing urgent for, me to do. If there's a call—” + </p> + <p> + “If there is, make it, and you shall have the beefsteak when you get + back,” Martha promised him. Mrs. Macauley was of the sort of young married + woman who delights to make her friends comfortable—and none better + than Red Pepper, who was her husband's most valued friend, as he was that + of his neighbour on the other side, Arthur Chester. + </p> + <p> + To everybody's regret the call was waiting, and as the party went in to + supper they waved their hands at the Green Imp flying away down the road. + It was not till long after the “ice-cool, salad-y supper” was ended and + the women, freshly clad, were sitting on the porch again, the men smoking + on the steps below them, that tine Green Imp came back. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later a large figure crossed the lawn at a pace which + suggested both reluctance and fatigue. + </p> + <p> + “If it hadn't been for that beefsteak—” Burns began. + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't have come,” finished Macauley. “Oh, we know that! Go in and + get it, Red, and perhaps afterward the charms of human society will have + their inning.” + </p> + <p> + Whether or not the beefsteak made the difference, a change had taken place + when R. P. Burns at length returned to the comforts of the porch. He threw + himself upon a crimson cushion on the upper step, precisely at the feet, + as it chanced, of Ellen Lessing. As he leaned comfortably back against the + porch pillar he looked directly up into her face, his eyes meeting hers + with an odd, searching expression as if he now saw her for the first time. + Pauline, gazing enviously across, saw the black eyes meet the hazel ones + in the dim light, and noted that a curiously long look was exchanged—the + sort of look which denotes that two people are observing each other + closely, without attempt at producing an impression, only at discovering + what is there. + </p> + <p> + But when Burns began to talk he appeared to address the midsummer night + air, staring off into it and speaking rather low, so that they all leaned + forward to listen. For, at last, he seemed to have something other than + motor cars upon his mind. + </p> + <p> + “He's a mighty taking little chap,” he said musingly. “Curly black hair, + eyes like coals—with a fringe around 'em like a hedge. Cheeks none + too round—but milk and eggs and good red steaks will take care of + that. A body like a cherubs—when it's filled out a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “What in the name of gibberish are you giving as, Red?” inquired Macauley. + </p> + <p> + “Name's Bob,” went on Red Pepper. “By all the odd chances! That's what + decided me. 'Bobby Burns'—it was the last straw!” + </p> + <p> + “Is he crazy?” asked Chester of the company. They seemed undecided. They + were listening closely. + </p> + <p> + “Clothes—one pair of patched breeches—remember 'Little + Breeches,' Ches?—one faded flannel shirt—mended till there + wasn't much left to mend. A straw hat with a fringe around it—uneven + fringe. Inside—a heartache as big as a little fellow could carry and + stagger under it. Think of having the heartache—at five and for your + grandmother!” + </p> + <p> + “Why for his grandmother?” asked Winifred Chester. + </p> + <p> + “Because there wasn't anybody else to have it for. Rest all gone, + grandmother the one who attended the breeches and patched the shirt, and + went without food herself lest the boy's cheeks get thinner yet. That was + what fixed her at last—she hadn't enough vitality to pull her + through.” + </p> + <p> + “So that was the matter with you to-day,” hazarded Chester. “Worried about + your patient all day and found you'd lost her when you got back?” + </p> + <p> + Burns turned upon him with a characteristic flash. “You go join the ranks + of the snap-shots. They sometimes miss fire. No, I didn't. I'd lost her + before I went or I wouldn't have gone, not for you or any other box-party. + It was the kiddie that was on my mind—as I'd seen him last.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he now?” asked Martha Macauley urgently. She was the mother of + two small sons, and Burns's sketch had interested her. + </p> + <p> + He looked up at her. “Want to see him?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do. Did you take him to somebody in town? Are you going to + send him to the asylum in the city?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to see him?”. Burns inquired of Winifred Chester. He rose. + </p> + <p> + “Red! What do you mean? Have you got a child here?” + </p> + <p> + “Come along, all of you, if you like. He won't wake up. He's sleeping like + a top—can't help it, with all that bread and milk inside of him. + Part cream it was, too. I saw Cynthia chucking it in. He'd got her, good + and plenty, in the first five minutes. Bless her susceptible heart! Come + on.” + </p> + <p> + “Talk of susceptible hearts,” jeered Macauley as he followed. “There's the + softest one in the county.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody would ever guess it,” murmured Pauline Hempstead. + </p> + <p> + They tiptoed into the house, across the offices into the big, square room + which was Burns's own. He switched on a hooded reading-light beside the + bed and turned it so that its rays fell on the small occupant. + </p> + <p> + He lay in spread-eagle, small-child fashion, arms and legs thrown wide, + the black, curly head disdaining the pillow, one fist clutching a man's + riding-crop. In sleep the little face was an exquisite one; the onlookers + might guess what it would be awake. + </p> + <p> + Burns pointed at the crop, smiling. “That was the nearest approach to a + plaything I could muster to-night. To-morrow the shops will help me out.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll send over plenty in the morning, Red,” whispered Martha Macauley. + Her eyes were suspiciously shiny. + </p> + <p> + “Did you bring him home just now?” questioned Winifred. + </p> + <p> + Burns nodded. “I hadn't meant to get him to-night, if I did at all. My + call took me within half a mile. I went over and saw him again. That + settled it.” + </p> + <p> + The small sleeper stirred, sighed. Burns turned off the light in a + twinkling. “He's not used to electricity point blank,” he chuckled. + </p> + <p> + Going down the steps a hand touched his arm. He looked into Ellen + Lessing's upturned face and discovered anew that it was a face to hold the + attention of a man. But there was no coquetry in it. Instead, he saw a + stirred look in eyes which struck him suddenly as singularly like those of + the child he had just shown her, “black, with a fringe around 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor Burns,” she said, “will you give me the very great pleasure of + dressing the boy? I know how to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, if you want to,” he responded gladly. “I hoped you ladies + would look after that.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me do it alone,” she urged. “They have their children: it would only + be a task to them. To me—I can't tell you what a delight it would + be.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take you and Bob to the city in the morning if you'll go.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be a happy morning for Bob and me, then,” she answered, and he + saw it in her face that it would be. But he felt that it was because of + the boy; not for any other reason. It occurred to him that it might + possibly be a happy morning for the driver of the Green Imp, also. + </p> + <p> + “So Ellen's going to dress the brat.” Macauley was strolling over the lawn + with Chester and Burns, as, having out-sat the women on the Macauley + porch, the men were turning bedward, reluctant to leave the cool + star-shine of the July night. “It's easy to see why she wants to do that. + Her three-year-old boy would have been just about this Bob's age by now. + Tough luck, wasn't it?—when he was all she had left since Jack got + out of the game?” + </p> + <p> + Burns stared at him. “Oh, that's why? I didn't know about her boy, or I'd + forgotten it if I was ever told. She will enjoy fitting Bob out, if I can + keep her from putting him into white clothes to make him resemble an angel + instead of a small boy with an eye for dirt.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll find Ellen's no fool,” Macauley assured him warmly. “But if she + takes an interest in the boy it'll be the best thing that could happen to + him. She has a lot of money. She may get a notion to adopt him.” + </p> + <p> + But upon this Red Pepper Burns spoke with decision. “Confound you, the + kiddie belongs to me. Didn't I tell you his name is now Robert Burns? She + may dress him if she likes. She can't have him, not by a long shot. He's + mine!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, it might be arranged,” murmured Macauley, but not quite low + enough. In a flash he was laid flat on his back on the lawn, a menacing + figure standing over him. + </p> + <p> + “None of that!” growled the man with the temper. “Not now or any other + time.” Then he laughed and let his victim up. “Alcohol will take out grass + stains, Jim,” he advised. “Tell Martha that.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. IN WHICH HE MAKES A CONCESSION + </h2> + <p> + Red Pepper Burns opened his eyes. What on earth was that? A small voice + piping at him from within close range? But how could that be? + </p> + <p> + Something bumped against him. He turned his head on his pillow. A small + figure at his side had raised itself upon its elbow; big black eyes in a + pale little face were staring at him in affright. Burns roused himself, + suddenly very wide awake indeed. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right, little man,” said he, pulling the child gently into the + warmth of his encircling arm. “You came home with me last night. Don't you + remember? You're going to make me a visit. And this morning after + breakfast we're going to drive to town and buy a train of cars—red, + shiny cars and an engine with a bell on it. What do you think of that?” + </p> + <p> + It did not take long to change Bob's fright into the happiest + anticipations. Red Pepper Burns was at his best with children; he had what + their mothers called “a way with them.” + </p> + <p> + A knock at the door and Cynthia's voice calling, “Here's some things for + the little boy, Doctor,” put an end to a full half-hour of delightful + comradeship, during which the sheets of the bed had became a tent and the + two were soldiers resting after a day's march. Burns rose and took in the + parcel. Martha Macauley had sent it. Her boy Harold was the nearest in + size to Bob of any of the children of his neighbours, and the parcel held + everything needed from undershirt to scarlet Windsor scarf to tie under + the rolling collar of the blue blouse. + </p> + <p> + “A bath first, Bob,” and his new guardian initiated him into the exciting + experience of a splash in a big white tub, in water decidedly warmer than + it would be a week hence when he should have become used to the + invigorating cool plunge. Then Burns, glowing from contact with water as + cold as it could be got from the tap, clad in bathrobe and slippers, + attempted to solve the mysteries of Bob's toilet. Roars of laughter + interspersed with high pipings of glee presently brought Cynthia to the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Can't I help you, Doctor Burns?” she called anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it, Cynthia: much obliged. I'm having the time of my life. + Stand still, son; let's try it this way round!” came back to the + housekeeper's ears. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't never wore so many things before,” Bob declared doubtfully, as a + small white waist with, dangling elastic stocking-supporters was finally + discovered to go best buttoned in the back. + </p> + <p> + “I know. But you'll see how fine it is to have your stockings held up for + you. Hi! Here are some sandals, Bob! Barefoot sandals, only we'll wear + them over stockings to-day, since we're going shopping. Now for these blue + garments I wonder how they go. Shapeless-looking things, they look to me. + I suppose they'll resolve into baggy knickers and the sort of long shirt + with a belt to it the youngsters of your age all wear. Here we go. Does + this top part button behind, Bob, like the waist? No, I think not.... It + sure looks odd, whichever way we don it, but that may be because it's + pretty big. Harold's several sizes bigger than you, though he can't be + much older. Give me six months and I'll have you filling out any other + five-year-olds clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “My hands—they're all gone,” remarked the child, holding out his + arms. The blue sleeves did, indeed, cover them to the finger-tips. + Laughing, Burns rolled the cloth back, making an awkward bunch at the + wrist, but allowing the small hands freedom. + </p> + <p> + “When Mrs. Lessing trains her eye on you she'll want to make time getting + to the shops,” Burns observed, struggling with the scarlet scarf and + finally tying it like a four-in-hand. “But you're clean, Bob, and hungry, + I hope. Now I want a great big hug to pay me for dressing you.” + </p> + <p> + He held out his arms, and his new charge sprang into them, pressing arms + like sticks around the strong neck of the man who seemed to him already + the best friend he had in the world—as he was. + </p> + <p> + At eleven o'clock, a round of calls made, the Green Imp came for Bob and + Mrs. Lessing. They met him, hand in hand, the little figure in its + voluminous misfit clothes looking quaint, enough beside the perfect + outlines of his companion's attire. But both faces were very happy. + </p> + <p> + “How many dollars do you suppose Ellen has, stowed away in that handsome + purse of hers, ready to spend on the child?” Martha Macauley queried of + Winifred Chester as they watched the Green Imp out of sight from the + Macauley porch. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Chester shook her head. “I've no idea. She'll want to get him + everything a child could have. But Red won't let her.” + </p> + <p> + “He won't know. He'll drop them at a store and go off to the hospital. The + things will come home by special delivery, and the next thing he sees will + be Bob in silk socks and white linen.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it. He'll go shopping with them. He's wild over the boy, + and he doesn't care a straw what people might think who saw the three + together. He'll tyrannize over Ellen—and she'll let him, for the + pleasure of being ruled by a man once more!” + </p> + <p> + It was a shrewd prophecy and goes to show that women really understand + each other pretty well—women of the same sort. For Red Pepper Burns + did go shopping with the pair from start to finish. It was an experience + he did not see any occasion for missing. + </p> + <p> + “You won't mind my coming, too?” was all the permission he asked, and Mrs. + Lessing answered simply: “Surely not, if you care to. We shall want your + judgment.” + </p> + <p> + She had not conducted them to a department store, but to the small shop of + a decidedly exclusive children's outfitter. Burns knew nothing about the + presumably greater cost of buying a wardrobe in a place like this, but he + soon scented danger. He scrutinized certain glass showcases containing wax + lay figures of pink-cheeked youngsters attired as for the stage, and + boomed his first caution into his companion's ear. + </p> + <p> + “That's not the sort of puppet we want to make out of Bob, eh?” he + suggested. + </p> + <p> + She turned, smiling. “Not unless you intend to keep him in a glass case, + Doctor Burns.” + </p> + <p> + “No long-trousered imitation of a sailor-boy, either, please,” said he, + pointing, disfavour in his eye, at the presentment of a curly-headed + infant of five in a Jack-tar outfit of white flannel topped by an + expensive straw hat. + </p> + <p> + “I see you're not going to trust me,” murmured Mrs. Lessing, as a + slim-waisted, trailing-black-gowned saleswoman approached. + </p> + <p> + “I'll trust you, but I intend to keep my eye on you,” admitted Burns + frankly. He observed with interest the wonderful figure of the saleswoman. + Quite possibly that lady thought he was admiring her, for nothing in his + face could have told her that he was mapping out in his surgeon's mind her + physical anatomy, and speculating as to where in the name of Hygeia she + could have disposed of her digestive organs in a circumference the + diminutive size of that! + </p> + <p> + Underwear first. Mrs. Lessing went straight at the foundations of Bob's + make up, and began to look over boxes of little gossamer shirts and tiny + union suits of a fabric so delicately fine that Burns handled a fold of it + suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “Silk?” he questioned. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head, the corners of her mouth curving. “Only a thread now + and then. Mostly lisle—for very hot weather. These others have some + wool in them, for cooler days. Those nearest you are quite warm, though + very light in weight. For really cold weather—” + </p> + <p> + “You're not planning to watch the thermometer and keep him changing + underwear accordingly?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, Doctor Burns. But four weights for the year aren't too many, + are they?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you buying for a year ahead?” + </p> + <p> + “Please let me. I shall not be here when he needs to change.” + </p> + <p> + Their eyes met. Something in hers made him desist from argument. + </p> + <p> + Stockings came next. Mrs. Lessing bought substantial tan ones in quantity, + long and well reenforced. Then she took up socks of russet and of white. + “Shall you object to his wearing these a good, deal?” she asked Burns. He + took up one small sample, running his fingers into it. “I should think he + might put his toes through one of those in an hour or two,” he suggested. + “His legs are pretty thin. Do you think pipe-stem legs in short socks, to + say nothing of bruises and scratches, really attractive?” + </p> + <p> + “You want him to go barefooted a good deal of the time, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure. But legs in socks are neither fish, flesh, nor good red herring, to + my thinking.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of the smile on his lips, he looked obstinate and she + deliberated, drawing a white sock unmistakably fine and expensive over her + gray-gloved hand. Plainly she wanted to see Bob in socks and strap + slippers, of the sort her boy would have worn. As she studied the sock + Burns studied her profile. “Get him a pair, for your own satisfaction,” he + conceded. + </p> + <p> + He did not hear the order she gave, but the saleswoman was pleasantly + smiling as she checked it. + </p> + <p> + The next thing that happened, Bob was being measured. Then he was trying + on Russian blouse suits that fitted, practical little garments of blue + galatea, of tan-coloured linen crash, even of brown holland. Burns looked + on approvingly. The clothes turned Bob into a gentleman's son, no doubt of + that, but it was the sort of gentleman's son who can have the very best of + romping, good times. + </p> + <p> + Something diverted Bums's attention for a little, and when he turned back + to Bob a bright scarlet reefer had been pulled on over his blouse, and a + wide sailor hat with a scarlet ribbon crowned his black curls. The result + was engagingly picturesque. But the critic frowned. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid that won't do, Mrs. Lessing,” he objected decidedly. + </p> + <p> + “You don't like the colour? Not with his hair and eyes?” + </p> + <p> + “It won't hurt his hair, but it will his eyes. The sun on that red will + torture him.” + </p> + <p> + “Will it? I shouldn't have thought of it. So many children wear them.” + </p> + <p> + “And shortly come to spectacles. Try it yourself for half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + She drew off the reefer. Bob objected. “I like the red jacky, Dotter + Burns,” he said. It was his first comment. Hitherto he had been in a dazed + state, submitting wonderingly to this strange experience. + </p> + <p> + Another small coat of tan-coloured cloth with a gorgeous red-and-brown + emblem on the sleeve consoled him: + </p> + <p> + “I think we are through,” said Mrs. Lessing Burns looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “No white clothes?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Did you want him to have some?” + </p> + <p> + “No. But I thought you would.” + </p> + <p> + “I have ordered three suits to be made for him,” she admitted, flushing a + little. “They will be very plain and will launder beautifully. He will + wear them only on special occasions. Do you mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, not on those conditions,” he agreed reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + They went to a shoe shop, and Bob became the richer for leather sandals, + canvas shoes, and various other footwear, some of it undeniably fine. + Burns took one little black slipper into his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what Bob's grandmother would say to that,” he observed in a + whisper. + </p> + <p> + Ellen Lessing regarded its mate. Her lashes hid her eyes, but her lip + quivered and he saw it. The salesman was busy with Bob. Burns laid his + hand for an instant on hers. She looked up, and a smile struggled with the + tears. + </p> + <p> + A toy shop came last. Here Bob was in an ecstasy. His companions walked up + and down the aisles, following his eager steps. Mrs. Lessing would have + filled his arms, but she found the way obstructed. + </p> + <p> + “He may have the train of cars,” Burns consented. “But they must be cars + he'll have to pull about for himself. No, not the trotting horse, nor the + trolley on the track, nor any other of the mechanical stuff. I'll get him + that dandy little tool-chest and that box of building blocks, but that's + enough.” + </p> + <p> + “The mechanical toys are of the best, sir,” suggested the salesman. “They + won't break except with pretty rough handling.” + </p> + <p> + “That's bad,” Burns asserted. “The quicker they broke, the less objection + I'd have to 'em. It's a wonder the modern child has a trace of resource or + inventiveness left in him. Teach him to construct, not to destroy, then + you've done something for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't he rather young for tools?” Mrs. Lessing was turning over a small + saw in her hands, feeling its sharp teeth with a premonitory finger. + </p> + <p> + “There are gauze and bandages in the office.” He laughed at her expression + as she laid down the saw. + </p> + <p> + “You won't object to that box of tin soldiers?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly. You don't want to spoil him at the start. For a boy who never + had a toy in his life he's acquired enough now to turn his head. Come + away, Mrs. Lessing—flee temptation. Come, Bobby boy.” And Burns led + the way. + </p> + <p> + Bob, astride of a marvellous rocking-horse taller than himself, was like + to weep. Mrs. Lessing went to him. He whispered something in her ear. She + came back to Burns. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor Burns,” said she, “every boy has a rocking-horse. He's just the + age to enjoy it. Surely it won't hazard his inventiveness: it will develop + it. He'll ride all over the country, as you do in the Green Imp.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the price?” + </p> + <p> + “It's not costly and it's a very good one.” + </p> + <p> + Burns inquired the price again; this time he asked the salesman. Then he + spoke low: + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen dollars seems 'not costly' to you, I suppose. Think of Bob + yesterday, with not a toy to his name.” + </p> + <p> + “That's why I want to give him one to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll be just as happy riding a stick—as soon as he forgets this.” + </p> + <p> + “He won't forget it. Look at his eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “You're looking at his eyes all the time. That's what undoes you.” + </p> + <p> + He had to look away from her eyes then himself, or he felt quite suddenly + that he, too, would have been undone. He had resisted the entreaty in + women's eyes many times, but not always, despite the reputation he held + for indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor Burns, won't you give me this one pleasure? You've really been + quite firm all the morning.” + </p> + <p> + She was smiling, but he had himself in hand again and he was blunt with + her. “Bob's a bachelor's child now,” he said. “He must be trained according + to bachelors' ideas. Come, you know it's out of reason to give the + youngster any more to-day. Be sensible.” + </p> + <p> + They followed him out of the store, Bob's hand held fast in hers. Somehow, + they both looked very young as they stood outside the shop window, gazing + back at the marvellous display within. He felt as if he were being rather + cruel to them both. This was absurd, of course, when one considered the + box of blocks, the train of cars and the toolkit. The child had enough + playthings already to send him out of his head. Burns drove away rapidly + to get out of range of other windows which seemed filled with + rocking-horses to-day. + </p> + <p> + He looked down at Bob. + </p> + <p> + “Happy, little chap?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Bob nodded. His arms clasped the red train but he was not looking at it. + </p> + <p> + “Like the cars?” + </p> + <p> + Bob nodded. His wide sailor hat obscured his face. Burns could see only + the tip of the small nose. + </p> + <p> + “You'll have a splendid time with those blocks, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + Again the nod, but no reply. + </p> + <p> + “The hammer's pretty nice, too, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Once more the dumb answer. But the silence seemed odd, for Bob had long + since lost his fear 'of these companions. + </p> + <p> + “Look up here, Bob.” + </p> + <p> + Reluctantly the child obeyed. Burns caught one fleeting glimpse of wet + black lashes. One big tear was slowly stealing down the pale little cheek. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, old man?” + </p> + <p> + No reply. + </p> + <p> + Burns looked at Ellen Lessing behind Bob's back. She did not meet his + glance. She was looking at the boy. It struck him that her profile made + the most enchanting outline he had ever seen. He tried to steel his heart + against them both. He knew his theory was right; he now had the chance to + put it into practice. + </p> + <p> + The Green Imp turned a corner to the right. They were not yet out of the + city, and at the next block the car turned another corner, also to the + right. At the end of another block the Imp, swerved once more—to the + right. This brought them back to the wide street which led to the shopping + district they had lately left. With silent passengers the Imp threaded its + way to the toy shop. In front of it Burns stopped the car. He got out and + went in and came out, the big rocking-horse in the arms of the salesman + who followed him. + </p> + <p> + He looked up at their faces. Bob's was one wide-eyed countenance of + incredulous joy. The other's—if he had seen there satisfaction at + having brought a man to terms he felt he should have despised her; but + that was not what he saw. + </p> + <p> + There was, by planning carefully, just room to wedge the rocking-horse in + at Mrs. Lessing's feet without encroaching on the steering-gear. As they + drove off, Bob was bending over and gently, stroking the animal's splendid + black mane, with little chuckles and gurgles of joy. Once more Burns + looked at Ellen Lessing behind Bob's back. + </p> + <p> + “You're happy now, aren't you?” he asked in tone of assurance. “Then, + confound it, I must own I'm paid for letting my wise bachelor notions go + hang, just for this time!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she answered very gently. “And I'm paid for trying to be + reasonable.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed, suddenly content. Between them, the little lad who had never + owned a toy in his life, stowing the red train carefully away between has + feet, gave himself wholly to the rocking-horse. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Ellen,” was Martha Macauley's greeting to her sister, “did you have + as interesting a time dressing the child as you expected?” + </p> + <p> + “I had a charming time,” replied Mrs. Lessing. She shook the dust out of + her long gray veils smiling at her memory of the morning. + </p> + <p> + “Did R. P. prove docile?” + </p> + <p> + “'Docile' doesn't seem to me just the word.” + </p> + <p> + “I used it in an attempt at fine irony,” explained Mrs. Macauley. + </p> + <p> + “Well, was he tractable, then?” + </p> + <p> + “He was very polite and kind and jolly—until the real business of + shopping began. Then he became suspicious—and a trifle autocratic.” + She recalled his look as he told her that he would trust her, but that he + meant to keep an eye upon her. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you get your own way about anything?” demanded her sister, with + eager curiosity. + </p> + <p> + Ellen looked at her. Martha noted that the soft black eyes were glowing, + and that she had not seen Ellen appear more alive and interested since the + days before trouble came to her. “Do you imagine we fought a battle over + our shopping?” she asked, her lips curving with merriment. + </p> + <p> + “But you don't tell me. I'm anxious to know whether we shall see the boy + dressed according to Red's ideas or yours.” + </p> + <p> + “We agreed beautifully on nearly all points of his dressing. Where we + differed, we—compromised.” + </p> + <p> + “Red never compromises with anybody, so I suppose it was done by your + giving in?” + </p> + <p> + “He never compromises? You do him injustice. He can compromise royally—by + the same method of 'giving in.'” + </p> + <p> + “I simply can't believe it,” murmured Martha, shaking her head. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. IN WHICH HE IS ROUGH ON A FRIEND + </h2> + <p> + “RED.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you through with that rabble? Can you 'tend to a friend?” + </p> + <p> + Redfield Pepper Burns wheeled around in his revolving chair and glanced + sharply at Arthur Chester. What he saw made him follow the moment's + inspection with a direct question. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down. What have you been doing?” + </p> + <p> + Chester sat down. His face was white. He held up one shaking hand. “Red, + what's the matter with me?” + </p> + <p> + Burns continued to study the man before him. He made no move to examine + into his condition, just looked steadily into the other's face with a gaze + before which his patient presently shifted uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “Well, of all the ways to treat a fellow!” He tried to laugh. “Is that the + way you do with the rest of the bunch that come to you every day? Or are + you trying to hypnotize me?” + </p> + <p> + “Look me in the eye, Ches. What have you been doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Working like a fiend in that infernal office. If there's any hotter place—” + </p> + <p> + “There'll be a hotter one for you right on this earth, if you keep on the + way you're going.” + </p> + <p> + He rose suddenly, and approaching Chester closely, looked intently into + the uplifted eyes. He sat down again. “Own up!” he commanded bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “Red,” begged Chester, “quit this sort of thing. Go at me in the usual + way. I—I think I'm a bit nervous tonight. I can't stand your + gun-fire.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. When did you begin?” + </p> + <p> + “Five weeks ago when you were away. I didn't mean to get into it, Red, on + my word I didn't, after all you've warned me. But it was so beastly hot—and + there was a lot of extra work at the office. My head got to going it night + and day. I—say”—he leaned suddenly forward, has head on his + hands—“I can tell you better if you give me some kind of a bracer—I + feel—so—deadly.” + </p> + <p> + Burns got up and prepared something in a glass something not particularly + palatable, but when it had taken action, which it promptly did, Chester's + white face had acquired a tinge of colour and he could go on. + </p> + <p> + “I stopped in Gardner's office one day when my head was worse than usual. + Had to meet a man in ten minutes—important deal on for the house—had + to be at my best. Told Gardner so. He fixed me.” + </p> + <p> + “He did—blame him—fixed you for a dope-fiend. I've told you a + hundred times you had precisely the kind of temperament that must avoid + that sort of thing like the gallows.” Burns hit the desk with his fist as + he spoke, with a thump of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to set me up for a while—I can do anything. Then afterward—” + </p> + <p> + “You're getting the afterward all right. How much do you take?” + </p> + <p> + Chester mentioned the amount of the drug, stating reluctantly that for the + last two days he had been obliged slightly to increase it in order to get + the full effect. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you have—that's the insidiousness of the devil's stuff. + How soon does it get into action?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, right away—almost instantly.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Is your imagination strong enough to—See here, Ches”—Burns + leaned forward “you're taking the stuff by mouth, of course?” + </p> + <p> + Chester's eyes went down. “Why—I tried it that way—but it was + so slow.” + </p> + <p> + Burns ejaculated something under his breath; the quick colour, always + ready to flare under his clear skin, leaped out. + </p> + <p> + “Gardner gave you a hypo, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “So you went and bought a syringe and taught yourself the trick. Suppose + you give me a look at it.” + </p> + <p> + Like a shamed schoolboy Chester unwillingly drew forth the small case from + his pocket. Burns received it. He opened it and took out the tiny + instrument. “It looks like a very good one,” he observed with a sort of + deadly quietness, and with one motion of his big fingers snapped the glass + barrel in two. + </p> + <p> + At this Chester took fire. “That's going a little too far!” he burst out + in wrath. + </p> + <p> + “Is it? Thought it was you who had gone too far. It's up to me to bring + you back—while I can. Getting this little fiend out of the way is + the first step. Keep cool, Ches—and I'll try to do the same, though + it makes my blood boil to think how little you've cared for my lectures to + you on this very thing.” + </p> + <p> + “I have cared. But I had no idea.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you have one now. It's taken you five weeks to acquire enough of a + habit to give you some trouble to drop it. You're that sort and that's the + way it works, anyhow. I wonder you came to me to-night. Found yourself out + of the stuff and didn't like to try to get it here where folks know you?” + </p> + <p> + “If you want to put everything in the most disagreeable way you can—yes,” + admitted Chester testily. + </p> + <p> + “That's precisely what I want to do. Put it in such a disagreeable way + that your backbone'll stiffen up a bit and give us something to start + with. If I make you mad all the better—so long as you don't go back + to fools like Gardner, who never hesitate to give a fellow like you a + sample of what that drug'll do for 'em:” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do? I shan't sleep to-night, and I've got to be in + the office to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “When's your vacation due?” + </p> + <p> + “Not till week after next.” + </p> + <p> + “Arrange to take it now.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't. Stillinger's off on his, Monday morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Could you have yours now if he waited?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I wouldn't ask him.” + </p> + <p> + “I would.” Burns took down the receiver of his desk telephone. + </p> + <p> + “Red, stop—I don't want—” + </p> + <p> + Burns paid no attention to him. In five minutes he had the city connection + and his man. He stated the case: Chester was in urgent need of taking his + vacation without delay, but was not willing to ask the favour of his + office associate. He, Burns, his friend's physician, did not scruple to + ask it if it would not interfere too seriously with Mr. Stillinger's + plans. No diplomat could re quest a favour more courteously than R. P. + Burns, M.D. The reply was the one to be expected of Stillinger, bachelor + and amiable fellow, who was fond of Chester and hoped it was nothing + serious. Tell him to go ahead with his vacation, Stillinger said, and not + to worry over office affairs. + </p> + <p> + “Now!” Burns wheeled round from the telephone. “Will you put yourself in + my hands?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you honestly think I'm such an abandoned case—already,” began + Chester unhappily, “that you have to—” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, Ches. I don't think you're an abandoned case—that's + nonsense—after five weeks. But I do think you're well started on a + road that it's ruin to travel. You began it way back last winter by taking + that headache stuff in double the dose I gave you, without consulting me, + every time you felt a trifle below par. That's why I took it away from + you. You felt the loss of it, and you were an easy mark for Gardner's + dope. You've grown so dependent on that already that you're going to have + a fight to get along without it. You can't fight and do office work, so + I'm going to make the most of my chance during this fortnight's vacation—if + you'll give me leave. If you won't—I think I'll knock you down and + get you where I want you that way.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled—a smile with so much spirit and affection in it that + Chester's eyes filled, to his own astonishment, for up to this point he + had been both hurt and angry. After a moment he said, with his eyes on the + floor, but in a different tone from any he had yet used: “Go ahead, Red. + I'll try to prove I have some stuff in me yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you have.” Burns's hand was on his friend's shoulder. “That's + what I'm counting on. Prove it by following directions to the letter. And + begin by coming with me for a trip into the country. I have to see a case + before I go to bed, and the air will do your head good.” + </p> + <p> + It was the first of many similar trips. Arthur Chester may fairly have + been said to spend the succeeding fortnight in the company of the Green + Imp and its driver. From morning till night, and often in the night itself + when he found it impossible to sleep, he was living in the open air by + means of this device. Of walking, also, he did an increasing amount as his + strength grew under the regimen Burns insisted upon. But for the first + week, in spite of all the help his physician could give him, he found + himself indeed involved in a fierce struggle—a struggle with shaken + and unmanageable nerves; with a desperate craving for the soothing, + uplifting effect of the drug to which he was forced to admit he had become + perilously accustomed; with a black depression of spirit which was worse + than anything else he had to combat. + </p> + <p> + It was at the worst of one of these periods of darkness that, alone with + his patient upon a hilltop where the two had climbed, leaving the Green + Imp at a point where the road had become impossible, Burns said suddenly: + </p> + <p> + “Ches, I believe, with all my care to give you the treatment I thought you + needed, I've failed to point out the most potent remedy of all.” + </p> + <p> + Chester shook his head. “You've done everything, Red. All the trouble's + with me. I'm so pitiably weak—so much weaker than I ever dreamed I + could be. I can't seem to care whether I get out of this or not. All I + want is to lie down and go to sleep—and never wake up.” + </p> + <p> + The last words came under his breath, but Burns heard them. He showed no + sign of being startled, though this mood was a gloomier one than he had + yet seen his patient succumb to. Instead, he went on talking in a tone of + confidence: + </p> + <p> + “I ought to have known enough to apply this remedy, because it's one I've + tried myself. If you could know, since the night you heard me make a + certain vow, what a time I've had with myself to keep it, you'd understand + that I know what it means to try to break up a habit. Mine's the habit of + years. With my temper and some of my associations, intemperate profanity's + been the easiest thing in the world to fall into. When things went wrong, + out would come the oaths like water out of a spring—though that's a + false comparison: like the filth out of a sewer, I'd better say.” + </p> + <p> + “We all swear more or less,” acknowledged Chester, his head in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Not as I did—and you know it. I've been responsible for many a + boy's taking it up, though I didn't realize it. Because I was athletic and + in for sports with them, they thought I was the whole thing. They laughed + when I got mad and ripped out a lot of language: they copied it. But I + never heard myself as others hear me till that night I let go at the + mother who'd ignorantly murdered her boy by disobeying orders. On the way + home that night I woke up—came to myself—I don't know how. The + stars were unusually bright, and I looked up at them and thought of that + child's soul going back to its Maker.... and then thought of my curses + following it and coming to His ear.” + </p> + <p> + A silence fell. When Burns broke it, it was in a voice deep with feeling. + </p> + <p> + “The next words I sent up to that ear were in a different shape. I think + it was the first real prayer I'd ever said since the little parrot prayers + my mother taught me. That was the first: it hasn't been the last. I don't + suppose I say much that would sound like the preacher's language, but + Ches, what I do believe is that—I get what I ask for. That's—help + to fight my temptations. And profanity isn't the only one nor the toughest + one to down.” + </p> + <p> + Chester looked up. For a moment he forgot himself and his wretchedness. + “It's hard to believe it's you, Red—talking like this.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it must be hard, but it ought to be the more convincing on that + account. I belong to a profession of materialists, and all at once it's + grown to seem to me the strangest thing in life that a man who studies the + anatomy of this body of ours should be a materialist. To watch its + workings and then doubt the God who made it is sheet wilful blindness. + But, Ches—I've got my eyes open at last. The God who made me is up + there, and He knows and cares how I go on with the job. As for answering + my appeals for help when I get hard pressed—the biggest sign I have + of that is a human one. Since Bobby Burns came to sleep in that little bed + next mine, it's been a whole lot easier to get on.” + </p> + <p> + A deep sigh was Chester's reply to this. He had a small boy and girl of + his own. For their sakes and Winifred's he knew he must fight this fight + out and win. But as for getting tangible help from the Creator of a body + handicapped by nerves like his! He began to say this, but Burns broke in + upon him with the answer he would least have expected at a moment like + this—a great, ringing laugh, the sound of which brought the slow blood to + Chester's white face. + </p> + <p> + “If you consider wrecked nerves like mine a laughing matter—” he + broke out. + </p> + <p> + But Burns, his laugh over, was sober again and his voice was earnest. + “Arthur Chester, don't make Him responsible for your 'wrecked nerves.' + They weren't wrecked when you were furnished with them. You've done the + wrecking yourself by breaking pretty nearly every law that governs the + workings of the human machine. You're paying the penalty. But you're going + to get the upper hand. From now on, in spite of your office life, you're + going to get good red blood in your veins—and your brains. The worst + is over now—the second week will be easier. But what I'm trying to + tell you is that you'll get that upper hand a lot quicker if”—his + cheek grew hot with this strange, unaccustomed effort at putting things he + had never spoken of before into words—“if you'll just reach up and + take hold of that 'Upper Hand' that, according to my new belief and + experience, is ready to reach down to you. It's stronger than yours: + you'll feel the upward pull.” + </p> + <p> + He broke off and got to his feet. The two had been sitting on a fallen + log, looking off over the hills toward a distant river winding its blue + length through fields of living green. + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't exactly cut out for a preacher, Ches,” he added after a minute. + “I hope my talk doesn't sound to you like 'cant.' I'm a pretty poor + specimen of a chap to be setting up my own example for anybody to follow.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think you've been setting up your own example,” Chester replied. + He pulled himself up limply from the log, yet out of his face had gone the + black look which had been there when he came up the hill. “And what you've + said doesn't sound like 'cant' to me, Red. It sounds more like 'can.'” + </p> + <p> + Red Pepper Burns held out his hand. His big; warm fingers closed hard over + the thin; cold ones which met them. Then the two men, without more words, + went away down the hill. From this hour Arthur Chester afterward dated the + beginning of the end of the fight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. IN WHICH HE PRESCRIBES FOR HIMSELF + </h2> + <p> + “Red,” observed James Macauley, junior, “this place of yours looks like a + drunkard's home.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced around him as he spoke. The criticism certainly found + justification in every corner. No more neglected office could have been + discovered belonging to any practitioner within an area of many miles. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it does,” rejoined Burns from the depths of a big, dusty + leather chair where he sat stretched in an attitude expressing extreme + fatigue. “But I don't care a hang.” + </p> + <p> + Macauley looked at him. His eyes were closed. His arms lay upon the chair + arms, relaxed and limp. For the first time his friend observed what might + have been noted by a critical eye on any day during the last fortnight. + The lines on the ordinarily strong, health-tinted face were deeper than he + had ever seen them; the cheeks were thinner; there were even shadows under + the thick eyelashes which outlined the lids of the closed eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, old man,” Macauley cried, sudden conviction seizing him, + “you're working altogether too hard. This miserable city epidemic has done + you out. I've thought all the time you were trying to cover too much + ground.” + </p> + <p> + “Ground's had to be covered,” replied the other briefly, without opening + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Have the other fellows worked as hard as you?” + </p> + <p> + “Harder.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it. They're all city men. You've done all this city work + and looked after your own patients here, too, to say nothing of living in + both places at once. With your housekeeper gone home to her sick folks, + and Miss Mathewson off on one of your cases—no wonder this place + looks the way it does.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't matter. Cut it out about the place. I'm going back in ten + minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “You are! Not going to get to bed?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know. I might snatch a nap now if you'd quit talking.” + </p> + <p> + Macauley closed his mouth. Presently he got up and stole out of the room. + He was back again in a trice, a flask in one hand, a soda siphon in the + other, and a small glass balanced on his thumb. When Burns, at the sound + of a clock ticking somewhere, rubbed his eyes with his fists striking in + and reluctantly opened them, Macauley spoke briskly: + </p> + <p> + “See here—I'm going to give you a bracer. I know your confounded + notions, but they don't cut any figure when you need something to pull you + together the way you do to-night.” + </p> + <p> + He started to measure out the amber liquid into the glass, but Burns put + up a hand. + </p> + <p> + “Much obliged, but I don't want any.” + </p> + <p> + “You idiot—don't you know when to make an exception to your rule? I + admit you've won out over the other fellows just by keeping a steady hand, + but you're dead as a dog for rest to-night and you need a stiff one, if + I'm any judge.” + </p> + <p> + “You're not—for me.” Burns sat up. “O Heavens, man, if I were going + to break my rule at all it wouldn't be for a drink of anything. It would + be for a stab in the arm with something that beats your stuff all out for + stimulating the fatigue out of a fellow and making him feel like working + till he drops.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you have it then?” asked Macauley curiously. “I should think if + ever a used-up chap were justified in—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't give me that talk if you're my friend. It's hard enough to hold out + without resorting to that game. I don't need you to advise it. I've seen + enough of that sort of suicide. Buller and Fields are both down and out, + and they began to brace early in the epidemic. Van Horn's a wreck, though + he keeps going; and I tell you, I've more respect for that man than I ever + had before. He's a poseur and a toadier, no doubt of that, and I've always + despised him for it, but he has real ability and he's worked like a fiend + through this muss, and not all for his rich patients, either. But he's + weakening fast, and it's drug stimulation that's done it. No, sir: not for + mine. But I'll make myself a cup of coffee, for I've got to keep awake, + and I shall sleep in my tracks if I don't.” + </p> + <p> + He got up and stumbled out into his deserted kitchen. Macauley followed, + helping as best he knew how, and watched his friend gulp down two cupfulls + of a muddy liquid with feeling of admiration such as a small act of large + significance may sometimes stir in one who apprehends. + </p> + <p> + Two days later Burns, starting toward home in the Imp at a late hour in + the morning, passed a figure on a corner of a city street waiting for the + outward-bound trolley. He slowed down beside it. + </p> + <p> + “May I take you home?” he asked, cap in hand, and interest showing in eyes + which a moment before had been heavy with fatigue. + </p> + <p> + Ellen Lessing looked up. “I shall be very glad,” she answered, as she met + his outstretched hand and let it draw her upward to the vacant seat. “The + car is always so full at this hour, and I was longing for the feeling of + the wind against my face.” + </p> + <p> + “It's cool for late August, and you'll get a breeze on the road home that + will refresh you. You haven't touched water or milk in this + plague-stricken district, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed. Martha warned me a dozen times before I left. How are things? + Any better?” + </p> + <p> + “No new cases in twenty-four hours, and the old ones well in hand. I'm + getting home earlier to-day than I've done for a month, and hope to have a + few hours off duty. I was planning what to do with them as I came upon + you.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think you could do nothing better with them than to go home and + sleep,” she advised, looking up at his face with a critical, friendly + survey of the signs of weariness written plainly there. “You are worn out, + and that means something when one says it of so strong a man as you.” + </p> + <p> + “I could sleep a week, but I'm not sure that a few hours would more than + aggravate my need. Besides, I shouldn't be at home an hour before I should + be called out again. No, my plans were forming themselves differently, and + now that I've met you they're taking definite shape. I want—well—suppose + I don't tell you! Would you trust me to take you off on a rest-seeking + expedition without explaining what I mean to do?” + </p> + <p> + “On a 'rest-seeking expedition'?” she repeated. “Doctor Burns, are you + sure you hadn't better go on that alone? Suppose I chatter all the way?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled. “You're not a chatterer. And I don't want to go alone. I + haven't had a chance for an hour with you for a month, I think. This is + the only way I can get it. Will you go?” + </p> + <p> + “You provoke my curiosity. Yes, I think I'll go. I've been shopping all + the morning and I deserve a reward of rest, if you're sure you know where + to find it.” + </p> + <p> + He turned the Imp abruptly aside from the boulevard leading out of town + down which they had been speeding. He made a detour of certain side + streets which brought him up before a small side establishment bearing a + sign which set forth an alluring invitation to motoring parties in need of + food. He disappeared therein, and was absent for the space of a full + twenty minutes. When he returned he was followed by a waiter with a hamper + to whose bestowal in the back of the car he looked carefully. + </p> + <p> + As they sped away again, Burns turned to his companion, a smile of + anticipation on his face, to meet a glance of some apprehension. + </p> + <p> + “You're not repenting your rash trust of me already, are you?” he + demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I'm remembering that Martha has four guests at luncheon to-day, and + expects me to be there!” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all? Don't let that worry you. We'll simply have a breakdown + somewhere on the road conveniently near to a spot I know, where I can + broil the beefsteak I have in that hamper, and make the coffee. + 'Unavoidable detention' will be your apology.” + </p> + <p> + “'Irresistible temptation' will be my confession,” she admitted. “I'm not + good at subterfuge and I'm so hungry that the mere mention of beefsteak + out-of-doors—” + </p> + <p> + “If it weighs against the plates and salads of a woman's luncheon I shall + have a great respect for you. Come on, let's run away! You from social + duties, I from professional ones. I'll agree to stand out Martha in your + defense. Unless, of course, the opportunity to wear a pretty frock and + throw all the other women in the shade—” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. “That's precisely what Martha wants me to do!” + </p> + <p> + “Then fail her and let the other women win. It's too late to repent, + anyhow, for here's where we turn off.” + </p> + <p> + The Imp itself seemed to be running away, so swiftly and silently it + covered the new road leading off into the hills. Presently it was climbing + them. + </p> + <p> + “I want to get where no call-boy monotonously repeating 'Doc-tor Bur-rns, + Doc-tor Bur-rns', can get hold of me,” the Imp's driver explained. “I + suppose you're not dressed—nor shod—for a rough walk of a + quarter of a mile where the car can't go?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll sacrifice skirts and soles,” she promised. “Isn't the air out here + glorious? I thought I was tired when I left the city: now I could climb + that hill and enjoy it.” + </p> + <p> + “That's precisely what we'll do, then. There's a view from the top worth + the scramble, but I wasn't sure you'd be game for it. Perhaps I'll know + you better at the end of this afternoon than I do now. Is there a jolly, + athletic girl hidden away under that demure manner of yours I've seen so + far, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + “Lead the way up that hill and you'll find out,” she answered with a + challenging flash of her dark eyes. + </p> + <p> + He lodged the Imp among a clump of pines, got out the hamper and turned to + his companion. She had pulled off her gloves, removed hat and veil and + folded her long, gray coat away in the car. This left her dressed in the + trim gray skirt of walking length and the gray silk blouse she had worn + for shopping. Burns looked at her with approval. + </p> + <p> + “Transformed by magic from a fashionable lady in street attire to a girl + ready for the woods,” was his comment. “I'm glad you leave off the hat—I'll + match you by doffing the cap. Now aren't we a pair? Are you in for a rush + up that first slope? Jove, I'm not half so tired as I was an hour ago, + already!” + </p> + <p> + He caught her hand in his, his other arm through the hamper handle, and + ran with her up the slope. At the edge of the steeper climb to come they + stopped, breathing fast. “This isn't the way to begin, of course,” he + admitted as they both regained their breath, laughing at their own + enthusiasm, “but I couldn't resist that dash—a sort of dash for + freedom. Now we'll take it more easily.” + </p> + <p> + They worked their way up and up among the rocks, he always in advance, + reaching down a muscular right arm to help her at the steeper places, and + once giving her a knee to step on when progress could be made only up the + straight face of a big boulder. It was undoubtedly a stiff climb for a + woman, but she showed no signs of flinching, and though her cheeks glowed + richly and her wavy black locks were a trifle loosened from their usual + order when at last she set foot upon the plateau at the top, she showed + only the temporary fatigue to be expected after such unusual exertion. + </p> + <p> + “That makes the blood course through one's arteries in a way worth while,” + was his comment as he regarded with satisfaction the splendid colour in + her checks and the sparkle in her eyes. “Talk about rest! That's the way + to get it! Burn up the products of fatigue, replace them with fresh cells + full of oxygen, and you get rejuvenation. Look at that stretch of country + before us! Isn't that worth the climb?” + </p> + <p> + “It's glorious! I've often looked at this height as our car drove by on + the road over there, and wanted to climb it. But Martha and Jim are always + for reeling off miles, and so, I thought, were you. I imagined there was + nobody but myself to care for this.” + </p> + <p> + “And I thought you liked the porch and the pretty clothes you wear there + better than anything I could show you in the open,” he owned with a laugh. + “Not that I haven't enjoyed that porch and the sight of the clothes—they + don't seem to be just like Martha's and Winifred's somehow, though I can't + tell why! I've wanted to ask you off for a trip like this, but never was + sure you'd enjoy it. I'm glad I've found out. I feel as if I'd wasted the + summer.” + </p> + <p> + He fell to gathering wood for his fire, and when she had regained her + breath she helped him in spite of his remonstrance. “Let me have all the + fun, too,” she begged. “I haven't had a chance like this for four years. I + used to camp in flannels all summer long, in the roughest sort of style, + and loved it dearly. I could stand the tension of a long social winter + twice as well as the other women on account of it.” + </p> + <p> + He understood, knowing that her husband had occupied a prominent official + position which called upon him to maintain a corresponding place in the + society of the city in which they had lived. Although he knew her to be + still under thirty, he realized that on account of her early marriage she + had had much experience in the world of affairs. It was this aspect of her + he had always borne in mind as he had seen her before. Now he was + beginning to recognize another side of her character and tastes, a side + which interested him even more than the other had done. + </p> + <p> + Like a pair of children they collected their firewood, racing together to + the base of operations with armfuls of dry sticks. When there was a big + pile she surprised him by asking to be allowed to make the fire herself. + </p> + <p> + “I'll prove to you I'm a woodsman,” she asserted, and when she had + performed her task after the most approved fashion of the skilled camper, + he acknowledged that she had made good her boast. As the smoke cleared + away in the direction which left the view unobscured and the spot he had + selected for the lunching-place free from smoke, he grinned approvingly. + </p> + <p> + “I've no doubt you could grill the steak and brew the coffee with equal + skill,” he admitted, “but I'm not going to let you. That's my job. I want + to prove my prowess. Sit down on that log, please, and oversee me.” + </p> + <p> + She watched with hungry interest while he also gave evidence of his craft. + It could hardly be the first time that a hamper had been packed for him at + the place in the city, for nothing he needed had been left out, even to a + big bottle of spring water with which to make the coffee. When his work + was nearly complete she spread a square of white linen upon a flat rock + and set forth the other contents of the hamper—olives and bread and + butter, crisp celery-hearts, and cream cheese and a tin of biscuits. She + heated the plates and cups before the fire, and as he withdrew his steak + from the coals she set a smoking hot platter before him and offered him + the materials for seasoning. + </p> + <p> + “You're a crack camper for sure,” he declared. “Ah-h—does that steak + look fit for the gods, or not? How's the coffee? Clear?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfect. And the steak looks as if it would melt in one's mouth. Oh, + isn't this fun? How glad I am I'm here and not at that luncheon!” She + consulted a tiny watch. “It's two o'clock—they're sitting down,” she + exulted. “Martha has waited half an hour for me and given me up, and she's + perfectly furious. I'm wicked enough to feel that that fact is going to + make this meal taste all the better!” + </p> + <p> + “Stolen steak and bread and butter eaten in secret have an extra relish—no + doubt of that. Here—this juicy bit is for you to begin on. Set your + teeth into it, partner! How's that for food, I ask of you?” + </p> + <p> + Sitting on the ground opposite each other with the flat rock between, they + consumed this Arcadian banquet, eating with the zest born of exertion and + the open air, the sunshine and the comradeship. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing has tasted quite so good to me in a year,” said she when the + steak had vanished, dipping a white celery-heart in salt and biting the + end off with teeth still whiter. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing ever tasted so good to me,” said he, leaning on his elbow and + spreading a crisp biscuit with a layer of cheese. “I always think that of + each meal I eat in a place like this, but this one seems to have a special + flavour. I wonder if it can be the company?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled across at her, the sunshine among the pine needles of the tree + above him throwing flecks of bright copper among the thick locks of his + hair. + </p> + <p> + “I think the company is usually an important part of all such outings,” + she admitted frankly. “I never took one before in the society of a wornout + doctor who began to look like a boy again before he had finished his + coffee. I really shouldn't know you were the same person who invited me to + go on this expedition.” + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing like it for renewing one, body and mind. Actual physical + repose isn't often the best cure for weariness: it's change of thought and + occupation, particularly if the open air is a part of the cure. I've + forgotten I have a care in the world: all I can think of is—may I + say it?—yourself! I can't get over the wonder of seeing you turn + from what Bob calls his 'pretty lady' into the girl I see before me—a + girl who looks about nineteen, with a capacity for good sport in the open + air I never dreamed of.” + </p> + <p> + “The open air would renew everybody's youth, I think, if everybody would + go to living out-of-doors. We're through, aren't we? There isn't a crumb + left! Now please go off and let me clear up and pack away. That's always + the woman's part. Couldn't you lie down on that inviting carpet of needles + over there under the big pine and get a bit of sleep?” + </p> + <p> + “Sleep—when I can talk to you?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. “Yes, indeed. I'm not going to talk just now, anyhow, so you + might as well make the best of it. Throw yourself down with your hands + under your head, and look up at those beautiful boughs. Please!” + </p> + <p> + Rather reluctantly he obeyed, and she could see that, weary as he + undoubtedly still was in spite of the refreshing meal, he really did not + want to lose any of her society. Lying at full length on his side, his + head propped on his hand, talking in the lazy tone of after-dinner content + which had descended upon him, he continued to watch her as she repacked + the hamper. It was not until she deliberately forsook him that he gave up + to her wishes. But when, having been out of his sight for ten minutes, she + peered cautiously through the bushes behind which she had screened + herself, she saw what she had hoped for. His whole weary frame was + stretched upon the pine-needle carpet, the lines of his face were relaxed, + and his eyes fast shut. + </p> + <p> + The sun was far down the hills when he awoke. He lay blinking at the + low-sweeping boughs above him for a little without realizing where he was; + then, as the midsummer stillness which surrounded him took hold of his + senses, he turned his head to recall to himself the conditions under which + he had been sleeping. Only the hamper under a tree close by gave evidence + that he was here by his own volition. He stared about, remembering that he + had had a companion. He got somewhat stiffly to his feet, discovering as + he did so that he had lain for a long time without stirring from the + position in which slumber had overtaken him. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Lessing!” he called. + </p> + <p> + From some distance away came back a blithe answer: “Here, Doctor Burns!” + </p> + <p> + He started in the direction of the voice and presently came upon her + sitting on a big granite boulder, busy with a lapful of pine cones out of + which she seemed to be constructing something. She looked up, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Why in the world did you let me sleep all the afternoon?” he reproached + her. + </p> + <p> + “I should have wakened you in ten minutes more. Have I made you late for + your work? I understood that you could afford a few hours for rest. You've + only slept three.” + </p> + <p> + “Three! Good heavens! When I might have been spending them with you!” + </p> + <p> + He looked so chagrined that her smile changed into outright laughter. “You + are very flattering. But I've been taking much more satisfaction in your + repose than I could possibly have done in your society, no matter how + brilliant you might have been.” + </p> + <p> + “That's not flattering, but I admit it has its practical side. Those three + hours' sleep in the open air have put me on my feet again. Just the same, + I want to eat my cake and have it, too! Promise me three consecutive hours + of your company when I'm awake, or I shan't get over regretting what I've + missed. Will you do this again with me some September day when I can make + the time?” + </p> + <p> + “I promise with pleasure. I've had a charming afternoon all by myself and + wandered all over the hillside, dreaming midsummer day-dreams. We must go, + mustn't we?” She stood up, her hands full of her work. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me some of them, won't you, while we climb down to the car?” he + begged. + </p> + <p> + “My happiest one,” she said as they descended, “is the making of a country + home for little crippled children. I think I've found the spot—the + old Fairmount place—it's not more than five miles from here. If I + can only buy it at a reasonable figure—” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Lessing!” he broke in. “So that's the sort of thing that makes your + day-dreams! No wonder—well!—” + </p> + <p> + “Why should you be surprised? Isn't that a delightful dream? If I can only + make it come true—” + </p> + <p> + “You can. Do you want a visiting surgeon?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do. Will you—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mrs. Lessing,” said he, stopping short just below her on the steep + path and looking up into her face with eyes of eager pleasure, “that's + been one of my dreams so long I can't remember when I began to think about + it. But I haven't been able to finance it yet, nor to find time to get + anybody else to do it. If you'll provide the place I'll do everything I + can to make it a success. There are no less than four children this minute + I'm longing to get into such a home. We'll go into partnership if you'll + take me. I—why—you see, I can't even talk straight about it! And you—I + thought you were a society woman!” + </p> + <p> + “I am a society woman, I suppose,” she answered laughing, “though our + ideas might differ as to what that term stands for. But why should that + prevent my caring for this lovely plan?” + </p> + <p> + “Evidently it doesn't. How many sides have you anyhow? I've found out two + new ones to-day. Girl—and patron saint—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, don't make fun of me. I'm no girl and very far from any kind of + saint. Please help me down this four-foot drop as if I were a very, very + old lady, for my head is dizzy with joy that I've found somebody to care + for my schemes.” + </p> + <p> + He leaped down and held up his arms. “Come, grandma!” he invited, his face + full of mischief and enthusiasm and happiness. + </p> + <p> + “I think I'll play girl, after all,” she refused gaily and, accepting one + hand only, swung herself lightly down to his side. + </p> + <p> + “And it's 'bracers' the fellows think they need to put the heart back into + them!” jeered Red Pepper Burns to himself. “Let them try the open country + and a comrade like this—if there is another anywhere on earth! But + they can't have her!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. IN WHICH HE CONTINUES TO SAW WOOD + </h2> + <p> + “Here you are at last, Red, you sinner, and I'm the loser. Ches and I've + had a bet on since we saw the Green Imp tear off just as the first guests + were coming. I vowed it was a fake call and you'd never get back till the + musicians were green-flannelling their instruments.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew he wouldn't do us a cut-away trick like that,” declared Arthur + Chester with an affectionate, white-gloved hand on Burns's black-clad arm. + “Not that I'd have blamed you on a night like this. What people want to + give dances for in August, with the thermometer at the top of the tree, I + don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Go along in, old man, and see the ladies. Take out Pauline. Mrs. Lessing + isn't dancing. Make a sitting-out engagement with the lovely widow, then + bolt out here. That's my advice,” urged Macauley. + </p> + <p> + “Much obliged, I will. Wouldn't have come if Winifred hadn't cornered me.” + </p> + <p> + “She's doing her duty by Pauline, and she considers her duty isn't done + till she's secured the men Pauline wants. But I say—when you get a + look at Ellen you'll forget the rivulets coursing down your neck. It's the + first time she's worn anything not suggestive of past experiences. It's + only white tonight, but—” Macauley's pause was eloquent. + </p> + <p> + Burns pushed on into the house, through whose open doors and windows came + sounds of revelry. A stringed orchestra was playing somewhere out of + sight, and to its music the late arrival, holding his head well up that he + might keep his collar intact until the latest possible moment, set his + course toward his hostess. + </p> + <p> + Outside, in the bower which had been made of the porch, Chester, + disgracefully shuffling off the duties of host and lounging with Macauley + and two or three other of the young married men, reported through the + flower-hung window the progress of the victim led to the sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + “He's shouldered his way to Win—he's shaking hands and trying not to + look hot. Hi! Pauline's sighted him already. She's making for him like the + arrow to the target.” + </p> + <p> + “Or the bullet for the hippopotamus,” suggested Macauley under his breath + in Chester's ear. He, too, began to reconnoiter. + </p> + <p> + “He's asking her if she saved the first one for him, and she's telling him + she did till the last minute. Her card is full now, but he shall have the + last half of this next one. Doesn't he look overjoyed?” Chester chuckled + wickedly. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Ellen? Why isn't she on deck now just as Red comes?” Macauley + began to fume. “She's behaved nobly all the evening so far—she might + have a rational being how for a partner as her reward. But I presume she's + sitting out somewhere with that chump of a Wardlaw—he follows her + like a shadow and she's too kindhearted to shake him. She's—” + </p> + <p> + A voice speaking softly from the lawn below the porch interrupted him. “Is + Doctor Burns here?” it asked. + </p> + <p> + Chester went over to the rail. “He's only just come, you know, Miss + Mathewson. You don't have to call him out this minute, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, Mr. Chester, but I'm afraid I must. The call is very urgent.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell 'em to get somebody else.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor Burns wouldn't like it—they're special friends of his.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well—I suppose he'll see the bright side of getting out of that + Turkish bath in there, but I must say I wish I didn't have to pull through + this whole affair without his support,” grumbled Chester as he went in to + find Burns, now disappeared into the inner rooms where the music came + from. + </p> + <p> + Red Pepper came out looking the name more than usual, for three rounds of + the floor had brought, as it seemed to him, every drop of blood to his + face, and his hair clung damply to his brow. He held a brief colloquy with + his office nurse. + </p> + <p> + “No way out; I'll have to go, Ches,” said he with ill-concealed joy. + </p> + <p> + “But you'll hustle? You'll make one more try of it?” begged Chester. “This + thing won't break up early: not with Pauline pushing it. You'll be back in + time to be taken out and fed?” + </p> + <p> + “Try to,” and Burns disappeared off the end of the porch. + </p> + <p> + “Lucky dog,” gloomed Macauley. “The call's five miles out on the road to + the city. I'd like to be in the Green Imp for the spin Red'll make of it. + By George! I—” + </p> + <p> + He broke off suddenly, gave a hasty look around and bolted off the end of + the porch into the semidarkness of the lawn. He ran across behind the + houses to his own back porch, procured a dustcoat from within and dashed + back, regardless of the bodily heat he was generating. As the Green Imp + backed out of the barn Macauley swung himself into the unoccupied seat. + </p> + <p> + Burns, also in dust-coat pulled on over his evening clothes, grinned + cheerfully. “Deserter?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + “You'll be back within the hour, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Less than that, probably. The Imp's running like a bird to-night—show + you her paces when we get out. Hi, there! Who's that chasing us? Well, of + all the—you, too, Ches?” + </p> + <p> + Panting, Chester flung himself upon the running-board just as the car + turned out of the yard. “Had a hunt for my coat—nearly lost you!” he + gasped. + </p> + <p> + Burns stopped the car. “See here, sonny,” he expostulated. “You happen to + be host, you know. I might be detained out there, though I don't expect + it.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take the trolley back if you are,” replied Chester, settling + himself. “I can't stand it to see you fellows cut away out of the pow-wow + and not go, too. I'll take my chances.” + </p> + <p> + “So be it!” and, laughing, with a glance back at the gaily lighted house, + Burns sent the car on her course. “You two are always bragging up the + married life,” he remarked as the Green Imp gathered speed, “but it + strikes me you're pretty eager to get away from the glories of your wives' + entertaining.” + </p> + <p> + “It's one curious thing,” admitted Macauley thoughtfully, “that no matter + how harmonious a couple may be they're bound to differ on what does and + does not constitute entertainment.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, a girl like Pauline always wants to dance, no matter how + torrid the night,” explained Chester. “Win and I have to consider our + guest's wish. But you can bet Pauline isn't getting her wish—not + with R. P. Burns running around the country all the evening and only + making five-minute stops at her side.” + </p> + <p> + By the speed with which the Green Imp swallowed the ground it looked as if + Burns might make several such trips and still interpolate a number of + “five-minute stops” before the affair at the Chester house should be over. + Before his passengers were well aware of the distance they had covered he + pulled up in front of a small cottage. They settled themselves comfortably + to await a fifteen-minute stay, but in five he was out again. Both dust + coat and clawhammer were off—his sleeves were rolled to the elbow. + </p> + <p> + “I'm in for it, boys,” he said. “Can't get away under two hours at the + shortest. Sorry. But they didn't let me know what they wanted me for, and + I'm caught. You'll have to drive home. Call up Johnny Caruthers and let + him bring back the Imp and Miss Mathewson. I can't be spared long enough + to go myself, so take her this note to tell her what to bring. Get busy, + now.” + </p> + <p> + He handed Macauley a hasty scrawl on a prescription blank, and smiled at + the discomfited faces of his two friends showing plainly in the lights + which streamed from the house. + </p> + <p> + “You look blamed pleased over your job,” growled Macauley. + </p> + <p> + “I like the job all right,” admitted Burns; “particularly when contrasted + with—” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't say it if you'd caught one glimpse of Mrs. L.” called back + Chester, as the Imp responded somewhat erratically to Macauley's + unaccustomed touch. But all the answer they got was, an emphatic “Don't + change gears as if you were running a thrashing machine, Mac.” + </p> + <p> + It was two hours and a half later that Burns came out of the small cottage + again, wiping a damp face, his white shirt-front a pathetic ruin, his + hastily reassumed white waistcoat and tie decidedly the worse for having + been carelessly handled. But his face, when he turned it toward the stars + as he crossed the tiny patch of a flower-bordered yard, was a contented + one. + </p> + <p> + “It pays up all the arrears when you can leave a chunk of happiness behind + you as big as that one,” he said to himself. Johnny Caruthers had gone + home by trolley long ago, and Miss Mathewson was to remain for the night + and return with the doctor when he came for his morning after-visit. Burns + sent the Green Imp off at a moderate pace, musing as he drove through the + now moderated and refreshing air of two o'clock in the morning. + </p> + <p> + “Party must be about over by now; think it'll adjourn without seeing any + more of Red Pepper and his misused dress clothes,” he reflected. “I + suppose those dancing puppets think they've had a good time, but it isn't + in it with mine. Bless the little woman: she's happy over her first boy! + He's a winner, too. As for Tom, I could have tipped him over with a nod of + the head when he was thanking me for leaving the merry-go-round to stand + by. It must feel pretty good to be the father of a promising specimen like + that. Must beat the adopting business several leagues. And that's not + saying that Bobby Burns isn't the best thing that ever happened to R. P.” + </p> + <p> + Philosophizing thus, he presently sent the Green Imp at her quietest pace + in at the home driveway. The Chester house was still brilliantly + illumined; his own dark except for the dim light in the office and—he + discovered it as he rounded the turn—a sort of half-radiance coming + from the windows of his own room, where Bob slept in the small bed beside + his own. Burns gazed anxiously at this, for it showed that somebody had + turned on the hooded electric. He was accustomed to leave the door open + into his private office; in which a light was always burning, and with + this Bob had hitherto been satisfied. + </p> + <p> + “He must have waked up and called for Cynthia,” he decided. Housing the + Imp, he quietly crossed the lawn to the window, avoiding any sound of + footsteps on the gravelled paths. Both windows, screened by wire and + awnings, were wide open; he could see with ease into the room, for the + house was an old one and stood low. Climbing wistaria vines wreathed the + windows, and sheltered by these he found himself secure from observation. + </p> + <p> + For after the first look he became exceedingly anxious not to be + discovered. He had come home in the stirred and gentle mood often brought + upon him by his part in such a scene as the one he had lately left behind + him. In the first wave of joy swept by a birth into a home, whether humble + or exalted, the man who has been of service in the hour of trial is often + caught and lifted into a sympathetic pleasure which lasts for some time + after he has gone on to less satisfying work. Burns had often jeered + gently at himself for being, as he considered, more than ordinarily + susceptible to a sort of odd tenderness of feeling under such conditions, + and as he stared in at the scene before him he was uneasily conscious that + he could not have come upon it at a more vulnerable moment. + </p> + <p> + Bobby Burns was sitting straight up in bed, his cheeks flushed, his + eyelids reddened as if with prolonged crying, but his small face radiant + with happiness as he regarded his companion, his plump little fist thrust + tight into the hand which held his. In a chair close beside him sat a + figure in silvery white; bare, beautifully-moulded arms, from which the + gloves had been pulled and flung aside upon the bed, gleaming in the glow + from the hooded light. + </p> + <p> + Black head was close to black head, her black lashes and his disclosed + dark eyes curiously alike in the distracting glance of them; even the + colouring of the faces was similar, for both showed the warm and peachy + hues laid there by the summer sun. + </p> + <p> + “They might easily be mother and son,” was the thought forced upon the + spectator. His own cheek suddenly burned, in the shadow of the wistaria + vines. + </p> + <p> + He listened abstractedly to the conclusion of the story: it must have been + a charming tale, for the boy's cry of regret when it ended was eloquent. + But the eavesdropper heard with full appreciation the richness of the low + voice and could not wonder at Bob's delight in it. He watched with + absorbed eyes the embrace exchanged between the two and, forgetting to be + cautious, allowed his shifted foot to crunch the gravel under the window. + </p> + <p> + Quicker than thought the light went out. Burns made for the office door, + consumed with eagerness to catch her before she could get away. But when + he set foot upon the threshold of his room only the little figure, pulling + itself again erect in the bed, met his eyes in the dim light issuing from + the office, and otherwise the room was empty. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody heard me cryin' but her,” explained Bob to his questioning + guardian. “Cynthia was all goned away and I heard the fiddles and they + made me cry. She comed in and told me stories. I love her. But she wented + awful quick out that way.” He pointed toward a French window opening like + a door upon the lawn. “I wish she didn't go so quick. She looked awful + pretty, all white and shiny. She loves me, I think, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, old man. That's your particular good luck—eh? Now lie + down and go to sleep and tell me all about it in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you going back to the party?” queried Bob anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Hardly.” Burns glanced humorously down at his attire. “But I'm not going + to bed just yet, so shut your eyes. I'll not be far away.” + </p> + <p> + The child obeyed. Exchanging the claw-hammer for his office coat, Burns + went out by way of the French window to the rear of the house. + </p> + <p> + An hour afterward Arthur Chester, putting out lights, discovered from a + back window a familiar figure at a familiar occupation. But at this hour + of the night the sight struck him as so extraordinary that, curiosity + afire, he hurriedly let himself out of the side door he had just locked, + and crossed the lawn. + </p> + <p> + “In the name of all lunatics, Red, why sawing wood? It can't be ill temper + at missing the show?” + </p> + <p> + In the August moonlight the figure straightened itself and laid down the + saw. “Go to bed, and don't bother your addle pate about your neighbours. + Can't a man cut up a few sticks without your coming to investigate?” + </p> + <p> + “Saw a few more. You haven't got the full dose necessary yet,” advised + Chester, his hands in his pockets. “Want me to sit up with you till you + work it all off?” + </p> + <p> + “It's beginning to look as if it wouldn't work off,” muttered R. P. Burns. + </p> + <p> + “Must be a worse attack than usual. How long have you been at it?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Sawed that whole heap at the side there?” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose so.” + </p> + <p> + “Lost a patient?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Blow out a tire?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Bad news of any sort?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel I oughtn't to leave you,” persisted Chester. “Don't you think it + might ease your mind to tell me about it?” + </p> + <p> + Burns came at him with the saw, and Chester fled. Burns went back to his + woodpile, marshalled the sawed sticks into orderly ranks, then stood still + once more and once more looked up at the stars. + </p> + <p> + “If an hour of that on a night like this won't take the nonsense out of + me,” he solemnly explained to a bright particular planet now low in the + heavens, “I must be past help. But I'll be—drawn and quartered if + I'll give in. Haven't I had knockouts enough to be able to keep my head + this time? Red Pepper Burns, 'Remember the Maine' Now, go to bed + yourself!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. IN WHICH HE IS UNREASONABLY PREOCCUPIED + </h2> + <p> + “Red Pepper Burns, put down that stuff and come over. It's nine o'clock, + and Pauline goes tomorrow, as you very well know. And not only Paul, but + Mrs. Lessing. Paul's persuaded her to start when she does, though she + wasn't expecting to go for three days longer.” + </p> + <p> + R. P. Burns looked up abstractedly. “Can't come now. I'm busy,” he + replied, and immediately became reabsorbed in the big book he was + studying. + </p> + <p> + Chester gazed at him amazedly. He sat at the desk in the inner office, + surrounded by books, medical magazines, foreign reviews in both French and + German, as Chester discovered on approaching more closely, by loose + anatomical plates, by sheets of paper covered with rough sketches of + something it looked more like a snake in convulsions than anything else. + Evidently Burns was deep in some sort of professional research. + </p> + <p> + It was not that the sight was an unaccustomed one. There could be no + question that R. P. Burns, M.D., was a close student; this was not the + first nor the fortieth time that his friend had thus discovered him. The + view to be had from the point where Chester stood, of the small laboratory + opening from this office, was also a familiar one. He could see steam + arising from the sterilizer: he knew surgical instruments were boiling + merrily away there. A table was littered with objects suggesting careful + examination: a fine microscope in position; a centrifuge, Bunsen burners, + test-tubes; elsewhere other apparatus of a description to make the + uninitiated actively sympathetic with the presumable coming victim. + </p> + <p> + The point of the situation to Chester was that astonishing fact that Burns + could hear unmoved of the immediate departure of Ellen Lessing. He made up + his mind that this scientific enthusiast could not have assimilated the + dreadful news; he would try again. + </p> + <p> + “Red! Do you hear? She's going to-morrow—tomorrow!” + </p> + <p> + “Let her go. Don't bother me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean Pauline. Ellen's going, too.” + </p> + <p> + Burns put up one sinewy hand and thrust it through his hair, which already + stood on end. His collar was off and he wore a laboratory apron: his + appearance was not prepossessing. He pulled a piece of paper toward him + and began to make rapid lines. It was the snake again, in worse + convulsions than before. Evidently he had not heard. Chester approached + the desk. + </p> + <p> + “Red!” he shouted. “The patient isn't on the table yet: he won't die if + you listen to me one minute. I want you to take this thing in. Mrs. + Lessing—” + </p> + <p> + Knocking the sketch to one side and precipitating three books and a mass + of papers to the floor, Red stood up. He towered above his shrinking + fiend, wrath in his eye. His lips moved. If it had been three months + earlier Chester would have expected to hear language of a lurid + description. As it was, the first syllable or two did slip out, but no + more followed. Only speech—good, vigorous Saxon, not to be + misunderstood. + </p> + <p> + “Will you try to get it into your brain that I don't care a hang who goes + or where, so long as I figure out a way to do this trick? The other + fellows all say it can't be done. Not one of 'em'll do it, not even Van + Horn. I say it can, and I'm going to do it to-morrow morning at nine + o'clock, if I can work out a tool to do it with and make it. And I can do + that if idiots like you will get out and keep out.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down and was instantly lost again in his effort at invention. + Chester looked at him in silence for a minute more, then he walked quietly + out. Offended? Not he. He had not listened to invective from that Celtic + tongue for eight years not to know that high tension over a coming + critical operation almost invariably meant brilliant success. But even he + had never seen Red Pepper keyed up quite so taut as this. It must be a + tremendous risk he meant to take. Success to him—the queer, fine old + boy! + </p> + <p> + “He may be over later when he gets that confounded snake of an instrument + figured out.” Chester offered this to the group upon his porch as + consolation. + </p> + <p> + “And if he doesn't get it figured out before we break up, he won't be + over,” prophesied Macauley. “Ten to one he forgets to come and say + good-bye before he starts for the hospital in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to be standing beside the driveway when he goes,” vowed + Pauline. “And if he doesn't notice me I'll climb on the car.” + </p> + <p> + “Ellen, don't go to-morrow,” whispered Martha Macauley to her sister. + “Don't let it end this way. When he comes to, you'll be gone, and that's + such a pity just now.” + </p> + <p> + “But I think I would rather be gone, dear.” Ellen Lessing whispered back. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why? When Red's excited over a big success he's simply off his head—there's + no knowing what he won't do.” + </p> + <p> + “I prefer him when he has his head. Don't urge, Martha. I've promised to + go in the morning with Pauline, and nothing could make me change.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a shame for him to be so absorbed. Who wants a man who can forget + the existence of a woman like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Who wants one who can't? A sorry surgeon he'd be—his hand would + shake. Don't talk about it any more, dear. I'm going to enjoy this evening + with you all. And I hope—oh, how I hope—that operation will be + a success!” + </p> + <p> + If it were not to be a success it would not be the fault of the man who + worked till one o'clock—two o'clock—three o'clock it the + morning to perfect the strangely convoluted tool which was to help “do the + trick” if it could be done. Part of the work was done in the laboratory, + part in the machine shop which occupied a corner of the old red barn, + where the Green Imp lent her lamps as aids to the task in hand. At four, + the instrument finished, sterilized, and put away as if it were worth its + weight in gold—which it might easily have been if it were to prove + fitted to the peculiar need—Burns went to bed. At six he was up + again, had a cold plunge and a hearty breakfast, and at seven was sending + the Imp out of the gateway, his office nurse beside him. If Mrs. Lessing + hoped the operation would be a success, Miss Mathewson hoped and feared + and longed with all her soul. Beneath the uniform and behind the quiet, + plain face of the young woman who had been R. P. Burns's professional + assistant for eight years, lived a person than whom none cared more how + things went with him. But nobody knew that least of all Burns himself. He + only knew that he could not get on without her; that never a suture that + she had prepared made trouble for him after an operation: and that none + other of the hundred nice details upon which the astounding results of + modern surgery depend was likely to go wrong if it were she who was + responsible. + </p> + <p> + At five o'clock that afternoon the Green Imp came back. Arthur Chester had + just returned from the office and had thrown himself into a hammock on the + porch, for the September weather was like that of June. Catching the + throbbing purr of the Imp as the car swung in at the driveway Chester + jumped up. Burns flung out a triumphant arm; Miss Mathewson was smiling. + </p> + <p> + “By George, the old boy's won out!” Chester said to himself, and hurried + down to meet the Imp. “All over but the shouting, Red?” he questioned + eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “All over.” Burns's face was aflame. + </p> + <p> + “Pull up and tell me about it.” + </p> + <p> + The car came to a standstill. “Nothing to tell. The curve I got on that + bit of steel did the work, around the corner and inside out. The fellows + said it wouldn't; stood around and croaked for an hour beforehand. Lord! + I'd have died myself before I'd have failed after that.” + </p> + <p> + “Should have thought they'd have unsettled your nerve,” declared Chester, + looking as if he would like personally to pitch into the entire medical + profession. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't. Just made me mad. I can do anything when I'm mad—if I can + keep my mouth shut.” Burns laughed rather shamefacedly. “That's the one + advantage of a temper. I say, Ches, don't you want to go with me? There + are probably half a dozen calls waiting at the office. I'll run and see.” + </p> + <p> + He jumped out, seized his surgical handbags and hurried away. Miss + Mathewson descended more deliberately, Chester plying her with eager + questions as he assisted her. “How was it? Pretty big feather in his cap, + Miss Mathewson?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed it was, Mr. Chester. Every one of the other city surgeons said it + couldn't be done without killing the patient. They all admitted that if + she survived the operation she would have every chance for recovery. They + were all there to see. I never knew them all there at once before.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be ungenerous to imagine they wanted him to fail,” chuckled + Chester, “but we're all human. How did they take it when he succeeded?” + </p> + <p> + “They remembered they were gentlemen and scientists,” declared Miss + Mathewson—“all but one or two who aren't worth mentioning. When they + saw he had done it, they began to clap. I don't believe there was ever + such a burst of applause in that surgery.” + </p> + <p> + “What did the old fellow do? Tried to look modest, I suppose,” laughed + Chester, glowing with pride and pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “He was white all through the operation—he always is, with the + strain. But he turned red all over when they cheered, and just said: + 'Thank you, gentlemen.' It really was a wonderful thing, Mr. Chester, even + in these days. Only one man has done it, a German, and he has done it only + twice. Doctor Burns will be distinguished after this.” + </p> + <p> + “Good for him! No wonder he looks the way he does—as if he'd like to + turn a few handsprings,” Chester reflected as he watched the nurse's trim + figure walk away. + </p> + <p> + Burns came back. “Jump in,” he said. “Work enough to keep me busy till + bedtime. If there hadn't been, I'd have proposed a beefsteak in the woods + by way of a celebration and a let down. I'm beginning to get a bit of + reaction, of course; should have liked an hour or two of jollity. You and + Win, and Mrs. Lessing and I might have—” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Lessing! You old chump, don't you remember she's gone? Why, Mac + started for the train with them all in his car, not ten minutes before you + came. They haven't been gone fifteen. I begged off from going along + because I was dusty and tired. Just got home myself.” + </p> + <p> + R. P. Burns, making the circuit of the driveway behind the houses and now + turning the Imp's nose toward the street again, stared at his friend in + amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Why, she wasn't going till day after to-morrow!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “I came over last night,” drawled Chester in a longsuffering tone, “and + explained to you and shouted at you and tried in every way to ram the idea + into your head that Pauline had wheedled Mrs. Lessing to start when she + did, because their routes lay together as far as Washington. You put me + out, calling me names and generally insulting me. It's all right, of + course. She's to spend the winter in South Carolina, but she'll be back + next summer. You can say good-bye to her then. It'll do just as well.” + </p> + <p> + Burns's watch was in his hand. “What time does that train go?” he + demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Five-thirty. You can't make it.” Chester's watch was also out. “What do + you care? Send her a picture postcard explaining that you forgot all about + her until it was too—” + </p> + <p> + The last word was jerked back into his throat by the jump of the Green + Imp. She shot out of the driveway like a stone out of a catapult, and was + off down the mile road to the station, All conveyances going to that train + had passed quarter-hour before, and the course was nearly clear. + </p> + <p> + “There's the train's smoke at the tunnel. You can't do it,” asserted + Chester, pointing to the black hole a few rods to one side of the station + whence a gray cloud was issuing. “She only makes a two minute stop. You + won't more than get on board before—” + </p> + <p> + “If I get on board you drive into the city and meet me there, will you?” + begged Burns. + </p> + <p> + “I can't drive the Imp, Red; you know I can't.” + </p> + <p> + “Then 'phone Johnny Caruthers from the station and send him in for me. + That'll give me fifteen minutes on the train.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the use? Pauline'll be at your elbow every minute. She'll—” + </p> + <p> + But Burns was paying no attention. He was taking the Imp past a lumbering + farm-wagon with only two inches to spare between himself and the ditch. + Then the car was at the station, Burns was out and through the building, + through the gate and upon the slowly-moving train after a moment's hasty + argument with a conductor to whom he could show no ticket. On the platform + James Macauley, junior, and Martha Macauley, Winifred Chester, and four + small children of assorted ages stared after the big figure bolting into + the Pullman. Bobby Burns gave a shriek of delight followed by a wail of + disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “By George, he's turned up, after all!” exulted Macauley, and the two + women looked at each other with meaning, relieved glances. + </p> + <p> + In the car, the passengers observed interestedly the spectacle of a large + man with a mop of fiery red hair, from which he had pulled a leather cap, + striding, dust-covered, into the car and up to the two prettiest young + women there. One of these very smartly clad in blue, received him with + looks half gay, half pouting, and with a storm of talk. The other, in + gray, with a face upon which no eye could rest once without covertly or + openly returning in deference to its charm, gave him a quiet hand and + turned away again to wave her farewell to the group of friends on the + platform. + </p> + <p> + “Take my chair and I'll perch on the arm of Ellen's,” commanded Pauline, + “while you explain, apologize and try to make your peace with us. You'll + find it hard work. I may smile for the sake of appearances, but inside I'm + really awfully angry. So is Ellen, though she doesn't show it.” + </p> + <p> + Thus Pauline, indefinitely prolonged and repeated, with variations, + interpolations, interruptions. It didn't matter; Redfield Pepper Burns + heard none of it. Even with Pauline “perching” on the arm of Ellen + Lessing's chair, her face within eight inches of the other face, she was + not within the field of his vision. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure the operation was successful,” said Mrs. Lessing. + </p> + <p> + “One can see it in his eyes,” declared Pauline. “I never knew hazel eyes + could be so brilliant.” + </p> + <p> + “It went through,” admitted Burns. “It had to, you know. And I had a thing + to make last evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Arthur told us about it,” chattered Pauline. “It was like a sna—” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't miss my not coming over,” said Burns. He was leaning forward, + his hands on his knees, his rumpled head near enough so that very low + tones could reach the person to whom he spoke. He did not once look at + Pauline. One would have thought that that fact alone would have quieted + her, but it did not. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed we did—awfully!” cried Pauline. + </p> + <p> + “Neither did I myself, then, Mrs. Lessing. I miss it now. I shall miss it + more whenever I think about it. I don't know of but one thing that can + possibly make it up to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Name it! You don't deserve it, but our hearts are rather tender, and we + might grant—” Pauline looked arch. But what was the use? Nobody saw. + Even the passengers were watching the one in gray. Spectators always watch + the woman at whom the man is looking. And in this case it seemed well + worth while, for even the most admirable reserve of manner could not + control the tell-tale colour which was slowly mounting under the direct + and continued gaze of the man with the red hair. The man himself, it + occurred to more than one passenger, was rather well worth study. + </p> + <p> + “It's always been a theory of mine that no woman can know a man until + she's exchanged letters with him for a considerable period of time—say, + a winter,” Burns went on. Pauline, made some sort of an exclamation, but + he failed to notice it—“Neither can a man know a woman. It's a + stimulating experience. Suppose we try it?” + </p> + <p> + “How often do you propose to write to us?” inquired Pauline. + </p> + <p> + Now, at last, Red Pepper Burns looked at her. If she had known him better, + she would have known that all his vows to keep his tongue from certain + words were at that moment very nearly as written in water. But the look he + gave her stung her for an instant into silence. + </p> + <p> + “I shall want to hear about Bob,” Ellen replied, “all you can tell me. I + have promised to write to him. You will have to read the letters aloud to + him—which will give you a very fair idea of what I am doing. But if + you care for an extra sheet for yourself—now and then—” + </p> + <p> + “An extra sheet! When I am in the mood I am likely to write a dozen sheets + to you. When I'm not, a page will be all you'll care to read. Will you + agree to the most erratic correspondence you ever had, with the most + erratic fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “It sounds very promising,” she answered, smiling. + </p> + <p> + The train drew into the city station. The stop was a short one, for the + Limited was late. In the rush of outgoing and incoming passengers Burns + managed, for the space of sixty seconds, to get out of range of Pauline's + ears. + </p> + <p> + “I shall count the hours till I get that first letter,” said he. + </p> + <p> + She looked up. “You surely don't expect a letter till you have sent one?” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. “I'm going home to begin to write it now,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Pauline accompanied him to the vestibule where he shook hands with her + forgivingly. From the platform he secured a last glimpse of the other + face, which gave him a friendly smile as he saluted with his dusty leather + cap held out toward her at the length of his arm. When he could no longer + see her he drew a gusty sigh and turned away. + </p> + <p> + As he stood at the street entrance of the big station, waiting for Johnny + Caruthers and the Green Imp, this is what he was saying to himself: + </p> + <p> + “Red, you've made more than one woman unhappy, to say nothing of yourself, + by making love to her because she was a beauty and your head swam. This + time you've tried rather hard to do her the justice to wait till you know. + Only time and absence can settle that. Remember you found a nest of gray + hairs in your red pate this morning? That should show that you're gaining + wisdom at last, the salt in the red pepper, 'the seasoning of time,' eh, + R. P.? But by the rate of my pulse at this present moment I'm inclined to + believe—it's going to be a bit hard to write an absolutely sane + letter. Perhaps it would be safer if I knew Pauline Pry would see it! I'll + try to write as if I knew she would.... But by the spark I thought I saw + in those black eyes I don't really imagine Pauline will!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. IN WHICH HE SUFFERS A DEFEAT + </h2> + <p> + The hands of the office clock were pointing to half after two, on a + certain September night, when Burns came into his office, alone. The fire + in the office fireplace, kept bright until nearly midnight, when his + housekeeper had given up waiting for him and gone to bed, had burned to a + few smouldering lumps of cannel-slag. A big leather easy-chair, its arms + worn with much use, had been pulled into an inviting position before the + fireplace, and the night-light by the desk was burning, as usual. All that + could be expected had been done by the kind-hearted Cynthia, who + comprehended, by signs she knew well and had been watching for several + days, that affairs were going wrong with her employer. + </p> + <p> + But he needed more than could be given him by things inanimate—needed + it woefully. He came in as a man comes who is not only physically' weary + to the point of exhaustion, but heart sick and sore besides. He dropped + his heavy surgical bags upon the floor by the desk as if he wanted never + to take them up again, pulled off coat and cap and let them fall where + they would, then stumbled blindly over to the big chair and sank into it + with a great sigh, as if he had reached the end of all endeavour. + </p> + <p> + If it had been physical fatigue alone which had brought him to this pass + he might have dropped asleep where he sat, and waked, after an hour or + two, to drag himself away to bed, like one who had been drugged. For a + short space, indeed, he lay motionless in the chair in the attitude of one + so spent for sleep that he must needs find it in the first place his body + touches. But there are times when the mind will not let the body rest. And + this was one of them. + </p> + <p> + The scene he had left lately was burning before his tired eyes; the sounds + he had lately heard were beating in his brain. For a week he had been + putting every power he possessed into the attaining of an end for which it + had more than once seemed to him that he would be willing to sacrifice his + own life. He had dared everything, fought every one, had his own way in + spite of every obstacle, believing to the last that he could win, as he + had so often won before, by sheer contempt of danger. But this time he had + failed. + </p> + <p> + That was all there was of it—he had failed, failed so absolutely, so + humiliatingly, so publicly—this was the way he put it to himself—that + he was in disgrace. He had operated when others advised against operation + and had seemed to succeed, brilliantly and incredibly. Then the case had + begun to go wrong. He had operated a second time—against all + precedent, taking tremendous risks—and had lost. + </p> + <p> + But this was not the worst. He had lost cases before and had suffered + keenly over them, but not as he was suffering now. In a world of death + some cases must be lost, even by the most successful of all of his + profession. But this was an unusual case. This was—O God—how could + he bear losing this one? + </p> + <p> + He had known her from a little girl of eight till now, when at sixteen, + bright, beautiful, winsome sixteen, he had... what had he done? She might + have had a chance for life—without operation. He had taken that + chance away. And she had trusted him—how she had trusted him! Ah, + there was the bitter drop in the cup the turn of the knife in the raw + wound. When the others had opposed, she had looked up at him with that + smile of hers—how could she smile when she was in such pain?—and + whispered: “Please do whatever you want to, Doctor Burns.” And he had + answered confidently: “Good for you, Lucile—if only they'd all trust + me like that I'd show them what I could do!” + </p> + <p> + Vain boast—wild boast! He had been a fool—twice a fool—thrice + a fool! He was a fool clear through—that was the matter with him—a + proud fool who had thought that with a thrust of his keen-edged tools he + could turn Death himself aside. + </p> + <p> + And when he had tried his hand a second time, in the last futile effort to + avert the impending disaster, she had trusted him just the same. When he + had said to her, speaking close to her dull ear: “Dear little girl, I'm + going to ask you to go to sleep again for me,” she had turned her head + upon the pillow, that tortured young head—he would not have thought + she could move it at all—and had smiled at him again... for the last + time... He would remember that smile while he lived. + </p> + <p> + He got up from his chair as the intolerable memory smote him again, as it + had been smiting him these three hours since the end had come. He began to + pace the floor, back and forth back and forth. There were those who said + that R. P. Burns threw off his cases easily, did not worry about them, did + not take it to heart when they went wrong. It is a thing often said of the + men who must turn from one patient to another, and show to the second no + hint of how the first may be faring. Those who say it do not know—can + never know. + </p> + <p> + The hours wore on. Burns could not sleep, could not even relax and rest. + To the first agony of disappointment succeeded a depression so profound + that it seemed to him he could never rise above it and take up his work + again. A hundred times he went painfully over the details of the case, + from first to last. Why had he done as he had? Why had he not listened to + Grayson, to Van Horn, to Fields? Only Buller had backed him up in his + decisions—and he knew well enough that Buller had done it only + because of his faith in Burns himself and his remembrance of some of his + extraordinary successes, not because his own judgment approved. + </p> + <p> + Five o'clock—six o'clock—he had thrown himself into the chair + again, and had, at last, dropped into an uneasy sort of half slumber, when + the office door quietly opened and Miss Mathewson came in. It was two + hours before she was due. Burns roused and regarded her wonderingly, with + eyes heavy and blood-shot. She stood still and looked down at him, + sympathy in her face. She herself was pale with fatigue and loss of sleep, + for she had been with him throughout the week of struggle over the case he + had lost, and she knew the situation as no one else, even his professional + colleagues, knew it. But she smiled wanly down at him, like a pitying + angel. + </p> + <p> + “You didn't go to bed, Doctor,” she said, very gently. “I was afraid you + wouldn't. Won't you go now? You know there's a day's work before you.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. “No—I'd rather get out in the air. I'm going now. + I'd like to take the Imp and—drive to—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!”—She spoke quickly, coming closer, as if she understood and + would not let him use the reckless, common phrase which sometimes means + despair. “I thought you might be feeling like that—that's why I came + early. Not that I can say anything to cheer you, Doctor Burns—I know + you care too much for that. But there's one thing you must realize—you + must say it over and over to yourself—you did your best. No human + being can do more.” + </p> + <p> + “A fool's best,” he muttered. “Cold comfort that.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a fool's best—a skilful surgeon's best.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head again, got slowly up from his chair, and stood staring + down into the ashes of the long-dead fire. The usually straight shoulders + were bent; the naturally well-poised head, always carried confidently + erect, was sunk upon the broad chest. + </p> + <p> + Amy Mathewson watched him for a minute, her own face full of pain; then + laid her hand, rather timidly, upon his arm. He looked round at her and + tried to smile, but the effort only made his expression the more pitiful. + </p> + <p> + “Bless your heart,” said he, brokenly, “I believe you'd stand by me to the + last ditch of a failure.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes suddenly filled. “I'd let you operate—on my mother—to-day,” + said she, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + He gazed into her working face for a long moment, seized her hand and + wrung it hard, then strode away into the inner office and flung the door + shut behind him. + </p> + <p> + A half-hour later he came out. He had himself sternly in hand again. His + shoulders were squared, his head up; in his face was written a peculiar + grim defiance which those who did not comprehend might easily mistake for + the stoicism imputed to men of his calling under defeat. Miss Mathewson + knew better, understood that it was taking all his courage to face his + work again, and realized as nobody else could that the day before him + would be one of the hardest he had yet had to live. But she was hopeful + that little by little he would come back to the same recognition of that + which she felt was really true, that, in spite of the results, he had been + justified in the risk he had taken, and that he could not be blamed that + conditions which only a superhuman penetration could have foreseen would + arise to thwart him. + </p> + <p> + “Cynthia has your breakfast ready for you Doctor,” Miss Mathewson said + quietly, as he came out. She did not look up from the desk, where she was + working on accounts. But as he passed her, on his way to the dining-room, + he laid his hand for an instant on her shoulder, and when she looked up + she met his grateful eyes. She had given him the greatest proof of + confidence in her power, and it had been the one ray of light in his black + hour. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you take just a taste o' the chops, Doctor?” urged his housekeeper, + anxiously. She knew nothing of the situation, but she had not served him + for eight years not to have learned something of his moods, and it was + clear to her that he had had little sleep for many nights. + </p> + <p> + But he put aside the plate. “I know they're fine, Cynthia,” said he in his + gentlest way. “But the coffee's all I want, this morning. Another cup, + please.” + </p> + <p> + Cynthia hesitated, a motherly sort of solicitude in her homely face. + “Doctor, do you know you've had four, a'ready? And it's awful strong.” + </p> + <p> + “Have I! Well—perhaps that's enough. Thank you, Cynthia.” + </p> + <p> + His housekeeper looked after him, as he left the room. “He's terrible + blue, to be so polite as that,” she reflected. “When he's happy he's in + such a hurry he don't have time to thank a body. Of the two. I guess I'd + rather have him hustlin' rude!” + </p> + <p> + In the middle of the day Burns met Van Horn. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry the case went wrong, Doctor,” said his colleague. There was a + peculiar sparkle in his eye as he offered this customary, perfunctory + condolence. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” replied Burns, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't wish to seem skeptical, and you certainly have had remarkable + success in somewhat similar cases. But it seemed to me that in advising as + I did I was holding the only safe ground. Personally I'm not in favour of + taking chances and in this case it seemed to me they were pretty slim.” + </p> + <p> + “They were.” + </p> + <p> + “I did my best to assure the family that you were within your rights.” + </p> + <p> + “Much obliged.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't blame you for feeling broken up about it,” declared the other + man, soothingly. “But we all have to learn by experience, and conservatism + is one of the hardest lessons.” + </p> + <p> + An ugly light was growing in Red Pepper's eye. He got away without further + words. Only last week Van Horn had been helped out of a serious and + baffling complication by Burns himself, and no credit given to the + rescuer. From him this sort of high and mighty sympathy was particularly + hard to bear. + </p> + <p> + Around the corner he encountered Grayson. This, as it was so little to be + desired, was naturally to be expected. + </p> + <p> + “Too bad, Doctor,” Grayson began, stopping to shake hands. Van Horn had + not even shaken hands. “I hoped till the last that we were all wrong and + you were right. But that heart seemed dangerously shaky to me, though I + know you didn't think so.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't.” + </p> + <p> + “There was a queer factor in the case, one I felt from the first, though I + couldn't put my finger on it. It was the thing that made me advise against + operation.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “But of course there's no use crying over spilt milk; you did your best,” + continued Grayson cheerfully. “Pretty little girl—plucky, too. Sorry + to see her go.” + </p> + <p> + Burns nodded—and bolted. These Job's comforters—were they + trying to make the thing seem even more unbearable than it already was? + Certainly they were succeeding admirably. He went on about his work with + set teeth, expecting at the next turn to run into Fields. He would + undoubtedly find him at the hospital, ready to greet him with some + croaking sympathy. True to his expectations Fields met him at the door. He + himself was looking particularly prosperous and cheerful, as people have a + way of appearing to us when our trouble is root theirs. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Doctor.” Fields shook hands, evidently trying to modify his + own demeanour of unusual good cheer over a list of patients all safely on + the road to ultimate recovery. “I want to express my regret over the way + things came out last night. Mighty pretty operation—if it had + succeeded. Sorry it didn't. Better luck next time.” + </p> + <p> + “Much obliged.” Burns had a bull-dog expression now. Not the most + discerning observer would have imagined he felt a twinge of regret over + his failure. + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind telling me what made you so confident that the spleen had + nothing to do with the complication?” Fields inquired in a deprecatory + manner which made Burns long to twist his neck. + </p> + <p> + “Did you suggest that it did—beforehand?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I did—if I remember.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you didn't—nor any other man till I got in and found it. + You all observed it then—and so did I. Excuse me—I'm in too + much of a hurry to stop to discuss the case now. I'm due upstairs.” And + once more Burns made good his escape. + </p> + <p> + “Sore,” was Field's verdict, looking after the man who had been his + successful rival for so long that this exception could hardly fail to + afford a decided, if rather shame-faced satisfaction to a brother surgeon + not above that quite human' sentiment. + </p> + <p> + But in the course of the day Burns met Buller. He had dreaded to meet him, + but not for the same reason that he had dreaded the others. Meeting Buller + was quite another story. + </p> + <p> + “Old boy, I'm so sorry I could cry, if it would do you any good,” said + Buller, his steady, honest gaze meeting his friend's miserable eyes. For + the defiance had melted out of Burns's aspect and left it frankly wretched + before the hearty friendship in this man's whole attitude; friendship + which could be counted upon, like that of his office nurse's, to the end + of all things. + </p> + <p> + Burns swallowed hard, making no reply, because he could not. But his hand + returned the steady pressure of Buller's in a way that showed he was + grateful. + </p> + <p> + “I knew you'd take it hard—much harder than common. And, of course, + I understand why. Any man would. But I wish I could make you feel the way + I do about it. There's not one particle of reason for you to blame + yourself. I've thought the case over and over from start to finish, and + I'm more and more convinced that she wouldn't have lived without the + operation. You gave her her only chance. Take that in? I mean it. I went + around there this morning and told the family so—I took that + liberty. It was a comfort to them, though they believed anyway. They + haven't lost a particle of faith in you.” + </p> + <p> + Burns bit his lip till he had it under control, and could get out a word + or two of gratitude. + </p> + <p> + “And now I want a favour of you,” the other went on hurriedly. “A case I + want you to see with me—possible operation within a day or two.” + </p> + <p> + Burns hesitated an instant, changing colour. Then: “Are you sure you'd + better have me?” he asked, a trifle huskily. + </p> + <p> + The other looked him in the eye. “Why not? I know of nobody so competent. + Come, man—put that Satan of unreasonable self-reproach behind you. When + man becomes omniscient and omnipotent there'll be no errors in his + judgment or his performance—and not before. Meanwhile we're all in + the soup of fallibility together. I—I'm not much at expressing + myself elegantly: but I trust I'm sufficiently forcible,” smiled Buller. + “Er—will you meet me at four at my office? We'll go to the Arnolds' + together, and I'll give you the history of the case on the way. It's a + corker, I assure you, and it's keeping me awake nights.” + </p> + <p> + Proceeding on his way alone in the Imp—he had not wanted even Johnny + Caruthers's company to-day—Burns found the heaviness of his spirit lifting + slightly—very slightly. Tenderness toward the little lost patient who had + loved and trusted him so well began gradually to usurp the place of the + black hatred of what he felt to be his own incompetency. Passing a + florist's shop he suddenly felt like giving that which, as it had occurred + to him before, had seemed to him would be only a mockery from his hands. + He went in and selected flowers—dozens and dozens of white rosebuds, + fresh and sweet—and sent them, with no card at all, to her home. + </p> + <p> + Then he drove on to his next patient, to find himself surrounded by an + eager group of happy people, all rejoicing in what appeared to them to be + a marvelous deliverance from a great impending danger, entirely due to his + own foresight and skill. He knew well enough that it was Nature herself + who had come to the rescue, and frankly told them so. But they continued + to thrust the honour upon him, and he could but come away with a softened + heart. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go on again,” he said to himself. “I've got to go on. Last night I + thought I couldn't, but, of course, that's nonsense. The best I can—God + knows I try... And I'll never make that mistake again... But oh!—little + Lucile—little Lucille!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. IN WHICH HE PROVES HIMSELF A HOST + </h2> + <p> + “Winifred,” said R. P. Burns, invading Mrs. Arthur Chester's sunny + living-room one crisp October morning, leather cap in hand, “I'm going to + give a dinner to-night. Stag dinner for Grant, of Edinburgh—man who + taught me half the most efficient surgery I know. He's over here, and I've + just found it out. Only been in the city two days: goes to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “How interesting, Red! Where do you give it? At one of the clubs or hotels + in town?” + </p> + <p> + “That's the usual thing, of course. That's why I'm not going to do it. + Grant's a rugged sort of commonsense chap—hates show and fuss. He + gets an overpowering lot of being 'entertained' in precisely the + conventional style. He's a pretty big gun now, and he can't escape. When I + told him I was going to have him out for a plain dinner at home he looked + as relieved as if I'd offered him a reprieve for some sentence.” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly he'll enjoy the relaxation. But you'll have a caterer out + from town, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Not on your life. Cynthia can cook well enough for me, and I know Ronald + Grant's tastes like a book. But what I want to ask is that you and Martha + Macauley will come over and see that the table looks shipshape. Cynthia's + a captain of the kitchen, but her ideas of table decoration are a trifle + too original even for me. Miss Mathewson's away on her vacation. I'll send + in some flowers. My silver and china are nothing remarkable, bur as long + as the food's right that doesn't matter.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be delighted to do it for you, Red, as you know. So will Martha. + We—” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks immensely. I want Ches of course, and Jim Macauley's coming. The + rest are M, D.'s. I must be off.” + </p> + <p> + He would have been off, without doubt, in an instant more, for he was half + out of the door as he spoke, but Winifred Chester flew after him and laid + an insistent hand on his coat sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Red! You must stop long enough to tell me something about it. How can I + help you unless I know your plans? What hour have you set? How many are + coming, and who? How many courses are you going to have? Have you engaged + a waitress?” + </p> + <p> + Red Pepper looked bewildered. “Is there all that to it?” he inquired + helplessly. “How in thunder—I beg your pardon—how do I know + how many courses there'll be? Ask Cynthia that. The hour's seven-thirty; + can't get around earlier, even if I wanted to be less formal. There's Van + Horn and Buller and Fields and Grayson and Grant and Ches and Jim and—and + myself. I may have asked somebody else, seems as if did but I can't + remember. You'd better put on an extra plate in case I have.” + </p> + <p> + He was starting off again, but Winifred, laughing helplessly, again + detained him. “Red, you're too absurd! What about the waitress? Shall I + find one for you?” + </p> + <p> + “I supposed Cynthia could serve us; she always does me.” + </p> + <p> + “She can't to-night, and prepare things to send in, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, see to it if you'll be so kind; only let me go, for I've only + fifteen minutes now to meet a consultant ten miles away. Good-bye, Win.” + </p> + <p> + He took time to turn and smile at her, and for the sake of the smile—she + knew of none other just like it—she forgave him for involving her in + the labours she already clearly foresaw were to be hers. How precisely + like Red Pepper Burns it was to plan for a “stag” dinner in this + inconsequent way! If it had been a coming operation, now, no detail of + preparation would have been too insignificant to command his attention. + But in the present instance unquestionably all he had done was to appear + at the door of the kitchen and casually inform Cynthia that eight or nine + men were coming to dinner to-night, and he'd trust her to see that they + should have something good to eat. Poor Cynthia! + </p> + <p> + Winifred ran over to consult Martha Macauley and together they braved + Burns's housekeeper in her kitchen. The result was relief, as far as the + dinner itself was concerned. Cynthia was a superior cook, and long + experience with exclusively masculine tastes had taught her the sort of + thing which, however out of the beaten line for entertaining, was likely + to prove successful in pleasing “eight or nine men,” wherever they might + hail from. + </p> + <p> + “Cynthia's planned a dinner that will be about as different from Lazier's + concoctions as could be imagined,” Winifred said to Martha, “but it will + taste what Ches calls 'licking good.' Now for the table. I'm afraid Red's + china and linen are none too fine. We'll have to help him out there.” + </p> + <p> + They helped him out. Only the finest of Martha's linen and silver, the + thinnest of Winifred's plates and cups and the most precious of her glass + would content them. When the table was set in the low-ceiled, + casement-windowed old dining-room where Red Pepper was accustomed to bolt + his meals alone when he took time for them at all, it was a table to + suggest arrogantly the hand of woman, Winifred eyed it with milled + satisfaction and concern. + </p> + <p> + “It looks lovely, Martha, but not a bit bachelor-like. Do you suppose + he'll mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Not as long as the food is right; and judging by the heavenly smells from + the kitchen there's no fear for that. But it's five o'clock, and the + flowers he promised you haven't come. Do you suppose he's forgotten?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he has. If he remembers the dinner itself it'll be all we can + expect of him. It doesn't matter. There are heaps of pink and crimson + asters yet in the garden, and some fall anemones. We'll arrange them, and + then if his flowers do come we'll change. But they won't.” + </p> + <p> + They didn't. But the pink and crimson asters furnished a centrepiece + decidedly more in keeping, somehow, with a men's dinner than roses would + have been, and the decorators were content with them. Dora, Mrs. + Macauley's own serving maid, who was to take the part of the waitress Red + Pepper had not thought necessary, said they looked “awful tasty now.” + </p> + <p> + “It's after seven and Red hasn't come yet.” Winifred Chester rushed at + Arthur, dressing placidly. “Jim went in for the men with his car, and said + he'd surely have them here by seven-twenty. You'll have to go over and do + the honours for him till he comes. He'll have to dress after he gets + here.” + </p> + <p> + “He won't stop to dress—not if he's late,” predicted Chester, + obediently hastening. “He'll rush in at the last minute, smelling horribly + of antiseptics, and set everybody laughing with some story. They won't + care what he wears. It's always a case of 'where MacGregor sits, there's + the head of the table,' you know, with Red. I certainly hope nothing will + make him late. I'm not up to playing host to a lot of physicians and + surgeons. I should feel as if I were about to be operated on.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, dear, there's no jollier company when they're off duty. But Red + isn't here yet, and I'm sure I hear Jim's Gabriel down the road. Do + hurry!” + </p> + <p> + Chester ran across the back lawn and in through Burns's kitchen, startling + Cynthia so that she nearly dropped the salt-box into a sauce she was + making for the beefsteak. He reached the little front porch just in time + to welcome the batch of professional gentlemen who came talking and + laughing up the path together. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor Burns has been detained, but I'm sure he'll be here soon,” Chester + explained, shaking hands, and discovering for himself which was the famous + Scottish surgeon by the “rugged commonsense” look of the man, quite as R. + P. Burns had characterized him. + </p> + <p> + Seven-thirty—no Red Pepper. Seven-forty-five—eight o'clock—still + no sign of him; harder to be explained, no sign from him. Why didn't he + telephone or send a telegram or a messenger? Waiting longer would not do; + Cynthia, in the kitchen, was becoming unnervingly agitated. + </p> + <p> + The dinner was served. Chester, at one end of the table, Macauley at the + other, both feeling a terrible responsibility upon them, did their best. + There had turned out to be two extra guests instead of the one whom Burns + had thought he might have asked but couldn't be sure; and Winifred had had + a bad ten minutes looking out a full set of everything with which to set + his place. For Red Pepper's place must certainly be left unfilled; it + would be beyond the possibilities that the dinner should end without him. + </p> + <p> + “I believe he has forgotten,” whispered Martha to Winifred in the office, + from whose dim shadows they were surreptitiously peering into the dining + room to make sure that everything was going properly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he couldn't, not with the Edinburgh man here. He's often told us + about Doctor Grant and how much he owes him. He does look splendid and + capable, doesn't he—for all he's so burly and homely? And the other + men all feel honoured to be here with him; even Doctor Van Horn, who's + always so impressed with himself.” + </p> + <p> + “They seem to be having a good time. And they're eating as if they never + saw food before. It's a success—as much as it can be without the + host himself. Oh, why doesn't Red come?” + </p> + <p> + “He wouldn't desert a patient in a crisis for a dozen dinners.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but he'd send word.” + </p> + <p> + “Look at Arthur. He's hobnobbing with Doctor Grant as if he'd always known + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Jim is having a bad time with Doctor Van Horn. I can see it in his eye. + Mercy! one of them looked this way. I'm afraid he saw me. Come!” + </p> + <p> + The next time they reconnoitred, the dinner was working toward its end. It + was time, for it was nearly ten o'clock, and Cynthia's courses though not + many, had been mighty. Presently the table had been cleared, and the men + were drinking coffee and lighting the excellent cigars which had been + Macauley's thought when he found that Red Pepper was not on hand to + provide them himself. + </p> + <p> + Under the influence of these genial stimulants—Burns never offered + any others, and one man who knew it had declined to come—the + sociability grew more positive. Chester relaxed his legs under the table, + feeling that at last Red's guests could take care of themselves. Grayson + proved an accomplished story-teller; Buller had lately had some remarkable + adventures; even Ronald Grant, who had seemed a trifle taciturn, related + an extraordinary experience of another man. The Scottish surgeon had the + reputation of never talking about himself. + </p> + <p> + The smoke grew thick. Macauley's cigars were of a strong brand; the air + was blue with their reek. Still the guests sat about the table, and still + the talk went on. + </p> + <p> + It was interrupted quite suddenly by the advent of Red Pepper Burns + himself. Macauley saw him first, standing in the doorway between dining + room and office, but for an instant he did not know him. Macauley's + startled look caught Chester's attention; he sprang to his feet. At the + same moment the Scottish surgeon, following Chester's eyes, observed the + figure in the door. He was first to reach it. + </p> + <p> + “What's happened ye, lad?” he asked, and acted without waiting for an + answer. He threw a powerful arm about Burns's shoulders and led him, + reeling, back into the office where the air was purer. + </p> + <p> + They crowded round, doctors though they were and had many times sharply + ordered other people not to crowd. They could see at a glance that Burns + was very faint, that his right arm hung helpless at his side, that his + forehead wore a blackening bruise, and that his clothes were torn and + covered with dirt. For the rest they had to wait. + </p> + <p> + Grant took charge of his friend—the pupil whom he had never + forgotten. The arm was badly broken, too badly to be set without an + anaesthetic. In the inner office Van Horn, his dress coat off, gave the + chloroform while the Scotchman set the arm; and the American surgeons, no + longer crowding, but standing off respectfully as if at a clinic, looked + on critically. It was rapid and deft work, they admitted, especially since + the surgeon was using another man's splints, and the patient proved to be + one of the subjects who fight the anesthetic from beginning to end. + </p> + <p> + Chester, white-faced but plucky, stuck it out, but Macauley fled to the + outer air. Seeing a familiar long, dark form half on, half off the + driveway, he hurried toward it. A minute later he had all the unoccupied + guests around him on the lawn, and one of the Green Imp's lamps was turned + upon its crippled shape. + </p> + <p> + “By George, he's had a bad accident,” one and another of them said as they + examined the car's injuries. The hood was jammed until they wondered why + the engine was not disabled; the left running-board was nearly torn off + and the fender a shapeless wreck. The green paint was scraped and + splintered along the left side. + </p> + <p> + “He must have come home by himself. How far, do you suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Not far, driving with his left hand, and faint.” + </p> + <p> + “He probably wasn't faint till he struck the indoor heat and the tobacco + smoke.” + </p> + <p> + “He's come at least five miles. Look at that red clay on her sides. + There's no red clay like that around here except in one place—at the + old mill on the Red Bank road.” Chester demonstrated his theory excitedly. + “I ought to know, I've ridden with him on every out-of-the-way by-path in + the county, first and last. There's a fright of a hill just there.” + </p> + <p> + “Five miles with that arm? Gee!” This was Buller. + </p> + <p> + “Plucky,” was Grayson's comment, and there was a general agreement among + the men standing round. + </p> + <p> + Macauley put his shoulder to the Imp. “Let's push her in, fellows,” he + proposed. He had forgotten that they were medical gentlemen of position. + “I don't seem to want to drive her just now,” he explained. + </p> + <p> + They pushed the Imp to the red barn and shut it in with its injuries. Then + they went back to the house, where presently Burns came out from under his + anaesthetic and lay looking at his guests from under the bandage which + swathed his head. + </p> + <p> + “I'm mighty sorry to have broken up the fun this way, gentlemen,” he said + with a pale sort of smile. “Grayson was telling a story when I butted in, + I think. Finish it, will you, Grayson?” + </p> + <p> + “Not much. Yours is the story we want now, if you're up to telling it. + What happened out there on the Red Bank road?” + </p> + <p> + Burns scanned him. “How do you know what road?” + </p> + <p> + “Your friend Mr. Chester's detective instincts. He says there's no other + red clay like that that plasters your car. By the way, that's a fast + machine of yours. Did you lose control on the hill?” + </p> + <p> + “That's it,” acknowledged Burns simply. “I lost control.” + </p> + <p> + Chester was staring at him. It was not in the nature of reason to suppose + that Red Pepper had lost control of that car unless something else had + happened first. The steering gear of the Imp was certainly in perfect + condition; Macauley had said so. He wondered if Red meant that he had lost + his temper. But what could make him lose his temper—on Red Bank + hill? + </p> + <p> + They questioned him closely, all of them in turn. But that was all he + would say. He had lost control of the car. One or two of the men who knew + Burns least looked as if they could tell what was the probable cause of + such loss of control. Chester wanted to knock them down as he fancied he + recognized this attitude of mind. And at last they went away—which + was certainly the best thing they could do in the circumstances. + </p> + <p> + All but Ronald Grant. The Scottish surgeon accepted without hesitation + Burns's suggestion that Doctor Grant should stay and keep him company for + an hour or two while he got used to his arm, and should then sleep under + his roof. So they settled down, Burns on his couch, Grant in an armchair. + When Chester left he was thinking that, except for the outward signs of + his adventure, Burns did not look as unfit as might have been expected for + a happy hour with an old friend. + </p> + <p> + Just outside the house Chester himself had an adventure. He was quite + alone, and he almost ran into a slim figure on the walk. The lights from + the office shone out into the October night, and Chester could see at a + glance who the girl was, even if the gleam of golden hair which all the + town knew had not told him. She was panting and her hand was on her side. + </p> + <p> + “Did Doctor Burns get home all right?” she cried under her breath. + </p> + <p> + “What do you know about Doctor Burns?” was Chester's quick reply. He was + startled by the girl's appearance here at this hour. + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't make any difference what I know. Tell me if he got home. Was + he much hurt? Why shouldn't you tell me that, Mr. Chester?” + </p> + <p> + “He is home and all right. Do you want him professionally? He can't go out + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “I know he can't. But I had to know he got home. I—” + </p> + <p> + She sank down on the doorstep, shaken and sobbing. Chester stood looking + down at het, wondering what on earth he was to say. What had Rose Seeley + to do with Red? What had she to do with his losing control on the Red Bank + hill? A quick thought crossed his mind, to be as quickly dismissed. No, + whatever Red's private affairs were, they could have nothing to do with + this Rose—too bruised and trampled a rose to take the fancy of a man + like him even in his most evil hour. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she lifted her head. “He saved my life and 'most lost his. They'd + been making repairs on the hill and, some way, the lanterns wasn't lit. + It's an awful dark night. He saw what he was comin' to and turned out + sudden into the grass. He had to go into the ditch, then, not to run over + me—and somebody else. He ran away!” Plainly that scornful accent did + not mean Burns. “I didn't. I helped him get the car up. I got his engine + goin' for him; he showed me how. His arm was broke. There ain't no house + for a mile out there. I hated to see him try to come home alone. I've + walked all the way—run some of it—to make sure he got here.” + </p> + <p> + “He got here,” murmured Chester, thinking to himself that this was the + queerest story he'd over heard, but confident he would never have any + better version of it and pretty sure that it was the true one. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I'm a crazy fool to tell you, Mr. Chester,” said the girl + thickly. “But you're a gentleman. You won't tell. No more will he. He + didn't tell you how it happened, did he?” + </p> + <p> + She did not ask the question. She made the assertion, looking to him for + confirmation. Chester gave it. “No, he didn't tell,” he said gravely. + </p> + <p> + When she had gone he crossed the lawn to his own home, musing. “For a + 'plain, quiet dinner,'” said he, quoting a phrase of Burns's used when he + gave Chester the invitation, “I think Red's has been about as spectacular + as they make 'em. Bully old boys.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. IN WHICH HE GETS EVEN WITH HIMSELF + </h2> + <p> + R. P. Burns sat at his desk in the inner office, laboriously inscribing a + letter with his left hand. It did not get on well. The handwriting in the + four lines he had succeeded in fixing upon paper bore not the slightest + resemblance to his usual style; instead, it looked like the chirography of + a five-year-old attempting for the first time to copy from some older + person's script. + </p> + <p> + He held up the sheet and gazed at it in disgust. Then he glanced + resentfully at his sling-supported right arm, especially at the fingers + which protruded from the bandages in unaccustomed limp whiteness. Then he + shook his left fist at it. “You'll do some work the minute you come out of + those splints,” he said. “You'll work your passage back to fitness quicker + than an arm ever did before, you pale-faced shirk!” + </p> + <p> + Then he applied himself to his task, painfully forming a series of + pothooks until one more sentence was completed. He read it over, then + suddenly crumpled the sheet into a ball and dropped it into the waste + basket. + </p> + <p> + “Lie there!” he whimsically commanded it. “You're not fit to go to a + lady.” + </p> + <p> + He got up and marched into the outer office where his office nurse sat at + a typewriter, making lout bills. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Mathewson,” he requested gruffly, “please take a dictation. No, not + on the bill letterheads—on the regular office sheets. I'll speak + slowly. In fact, I'll probably speak very slowly.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry I don't know shorthand,” said Miss Mathewson, preparing her + paper. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not. Instead, I'd rather you'd be as slow as you can, to give me time + to think. I'm not used to transmitting mediums—the battery may be + weak—in fact, I'm pretty sure it is. All ready? My dear Mrs. + Lessing”: + </p> + <p> + His cheek reddened suddenly as he saw the nurse's waiting hands poised + over the keys when she had written this address. He cleared his throat and + plunged in. + </p> + <p> + “This has been a typical November day, dull and cold. We had fine October + weather clear into the second week of this month, but all at once it + turned cold and dull. The leaves are all off the trees—Hold on—don't + say that. She knows the leaves are all off the trees the middle of + November.” + </p> + <p> + “I have it partly written.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Well, go on, then; I'll fix it: a fact it may be necessary to remind + you of down there in South Carolina, where—Miss Mathewson, do you + suppose the leaves are on in South Carolina?” + </p> + <p> + “I really don't know, Doctor Burns. I have always lived in the North.” + </p> + <p> + “So have I—bother it! Well, leave that out.” + </p> + <p> + “But I've written 'a fact it may be necessary—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, finish it: a fact at may be necessary to remind you of, you have + been gone so long. Oh, hang it—that sounds flat! How can I tell how + a sentence is coming out, this way? Let that paragraph stand by itself—we'll + hasten on to something that will take the reader's mind off our + unfortunate beginning: + </p> + <p> + “You will be glad to know that Bobby Burns is well, and not only well, but + fat and hearty. He had a wrestling bout with Harold Macauley the other day + and downed him. He got a black eye, but that didn't count, though you may + not like to hear of it. He is heavier than when you saw him—Oh, I've + said that! Miss Mathewson, when you see I'm repeating myself, hold me up.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't always tell when you're going to repeat yourself,” Miss Mathewson + objected. + </p> + <p> + “That's enough about Bob, anyhow. Mrs. Macauley writes her all about him + every week, only she probably didn't mention the black eye. Well, let's + start a new paragraph. When in doubt, always start a new paragraph. It may + turn out a gold mine. + </p> + <p> + “I found my work much crippled by the loss of my arm. Good Heavens, that + sounds as if I'd had it amputated! And I suppose she naturally would infer + that a man can't do as much with his arm in a sling as he can when it's in + commission. Well, let it stand. I didn't realize how much surgery I was + doing till I had to cut it all out. 'Cut it out,' that certainly has a + surgical ring. It sounds rather bragging, too, I'm afraid. Never mind. The + worst of it is to feel the muscles atrophying from disuse and the tissues + wasting, so that when it comes out of the splints it will still have to be + cured of the degeneration the splints have—Oh, hold on, Miss + Mathewson—this sounds like a paper for a surgical journal!” + </p> + <p> + Burns, who had been walking up and down the room, cast himself into an + armchair and stared despairingly at his amanuensis. But she reassured him + by saying quietly that it was always difficult to dictate when one was not + used to it, and that the letter sounded quite right. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you think so, we'll try another paragraph—that's certainly + enough about me. Let me see—” He ran his left hand through his hair. + </p> + <p> + Footsteps sounded upon the porch. Arthur Chester opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, excuse me, Red. It's nothing. I was going for a tramp, and I thought—” + </p> + <p> + “I'm with you.” Burns sprang to his feet looking immensely relieved. + “Thank you, Miss Mathewson, we'll finish another time. Or perhaps I can + scrawl a finish with my left hand. I'll take the letter. I'll look in at + Bob and get my hat in a jiffy, Ches.” + </p> + <p> + He seized the letter, ran into the inner office, looked in at the + dimly-lighted room where the boy was sleeping, took up a soft hat and, out + of sight of Miss Mathewson, crammed the typewritten sheet into his pocket + in a crumpled condition. Pulling the soft hat well down over his eyes he + followed Chester out into the fresh November night, drawing a long breath + of satisfaction as the chill wind struck him. + </p> + <p> + “You were just in time to save me from an awful scrape I'd got myself + into,” he remarked as they tramped away. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you looked hot and unhappy. Were you proposing to Miss + Mathewson by letter? It's always best to say those things right out: + letters are liable to misinterpretation,” jeered Chester. + </p> + <p> + “You're right there. I was riding for a fall fast enough when you reined + up alongside. But what's a fellow to do when he can't write himself, + except in flytracks?” + </p> + <p> + “I presume the lady would prefer the fly-track to a typewritten document + executed by another woman.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know the thing was to a lady?” Burns demanded. + </p> + <p> + “That's easy. No man looks as upset as you did over a communication to + another man. What do you write to her for, anyhow, when she's as near as + Washington?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn't she keep you informed? Winifred says Martha says Ellen came back + up to Washington yesterday for the wedding of a friend—hastily + arranged—to an army officer suddenly ordered somewhere—old + friend of Ellen's—former bridesmaid of hers, I believe. She—” + </p> + <p> + Burns had stopped short in the middle of the hubbly, half-frozen street + they were crossing. “How long does she stay in Washington?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. Ask Win. Probably not long, since she only came for this + wedding. It's tonight, I think she said. Aren't you coming?” + </p> + <p> + Burns walked on at a rapid stride with which Chester, shorter-legged and + narrower-chested, found it difficult to keep up. They had their tramp, a + four-mile course which they were accustomed to cover frequently together + at varying paces. Chester thought they had never covered it quite so + quickly nor so silently before. For Burns, from the moment of receiving + Chester's news, appeared to fall into a reverie from which it was + impossible to draw him, and the subject of which his companion found it + not difficult to guess. After the first half mile, Chester, than whom few + men were more adaptable to a friend's mood, accepted the situation and + paced along as silently as Burns, until the round was made and the two + were at Burns's door. + </p> + <p> + “Good night. Afraid I've been dumb as an oyster,” was Burns's curt + farewell, and Chester chuckled as he walked away. + </p> + <p> + “Something'll come of the dumbness,” he prophesied to himself. + </p> + <p> + Something did. It was a telegram, telephoned to the office by a sender who + rejoiced that having one's left arm in a sling did not obstruct one's + capacity to send pregnant messages by wire. He had obtained the address + from Martha Macauley, also over the telephone: + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. E. F. Lessing, Washington, D. C. Am leaving Washington to-night. + Hope to have drive with you to-morrow morning in place of letters + impossible to write. R. P. BURNS.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that's a fool telegram,” he admitted to himself as he hung up + the receiver, “but after that typing mess I had to express myself somehow + except by signs. Now to get off. Luckily, this suit'll do. No time to + change, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + He telephoned for a sleeper berth; he called up a village physician and + the house surgeon at the city hospital, and made arrangements with each + for seeing his patients during the two nights and a day of his absence. He + had no serious case on hand and, of course, no surgical work, so that it + was easier to get away than it might be again for a year after his arm + should be once more to be counted on. Then he interviewed Cynthia on the + subject of Bob; after which he packed a small bag, speculating with some + amusement, as he did so, on the succession of porters, bell-boys, waiters + and hotel valets he should have to fee during the next thirty-six hours to + secure their necessary assistance, from the fastening of his shoes to the + tying of his scarfs, the cutting up of his food, and the rest of the + hundred little services which must be rendered the man with his right arm + in a sling. + </p> + <p> + “I may not look a subject for travel, Miss Mathewson,” he announced with a + brilliant smile, appearing once more in the outer office, where the + bill-copying was just coming to a finish, “but I'm off, nevertheless. + Thank you for your struggle with my schoolboy composition. We won't need + to finish it. I'm—Oh, thunder!” + </p> + <p> + It was the office bell. Miss Mathewson answered it. Burns, prepared to + deny himself to all ordinary petitioners, saw the man's face and stopped + to listen. It was a rough-looking fellow who told him his brief story, but + the hearer listened with attention and his face became grave. He turned to + Miss Mathewson. + </p> + <p> + “Call Johnny Caruthers and the Imp, please,” he directed. “Telephone the + Pullman ticket office and change my berth reservation from the ten-thirty + to the one o'clock train.” + </p> + <p> + He went out with the man, and Miss Mathewson heard him say: “You walked + in, Joe? You can ride back with us on the running-board.” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes after he had gone Chester came again. He found Miss Mathewson + reading by the office droplight. On the desk stood a travelling bag; + beside it lay a light overcoat, not the sort that Red Pepper was + accustomed to wear in the car, a dress overcoat with a silk lining. On it + reposed a that and a pair of gloves rolled into a ball, man fashion. + Chester regarded with interest these unmistakable signs of intended + travel. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor Burns going out of town?” he inquired casually. It must be + admitted that he had scented action of some sort on the wind which had + taken his friend from his company at the conclusion of the walk. + Ordinarily, Burns would have gone into Chester's den and settled down for + an hour of talk before bedtime. + </p> + <p> + “I believe so,” Miss Mathewson replied in the noncommittal manner of the + professional man's confidential assistant. “But he has gone out for a call + now.” + </p> + <p> + “Back soon?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Mr. Chester.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he go in the Imp?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Country call, probably—they're the ones that bother a man at night + as long as he does country work. I've often told Doctor Burns it was time + he gave up this no-'count rural practice. Well, do you know what time his + train goes?” + </p> + <p> + “After midnight, some time.” Miss Mathewson knew that Mr. Chester was + Doctor Burns's close friend, but she was too accustomed to keep, her lips + closed over her employers affairs to give information, even to Chester, + except under protest. + </p> + <p> + “Hm! Well, I believe I'll sit up for him and help him off. A one-armed man + needs an attendant. Don't stay up, Miss Mathewson. I'll take any message + he may leave for you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid I ought to wait,” replied the faithful nurse doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it. Go home and go to bed, like a tired girl, as you no + doubt are, and trust me. If he wants you I promise to telephone you. I'll + see him off and like to do it. Come!” + </p> + <p> + There being no real reason for doing otherwise than follow this most + sensible advice, Miss Mathewson went away. Chester, settling himself by + the drop-light in the chair she had vacated, fancied she looked a trifle + disappointed and wondered why. Surely, he reasoned, the girl must get + enough of erratic night work without sitting up merely to hand Burns his + overcoat and wish him a pleasant journey. + </p> + <p> + It was a long wait. Chester enlivened it by telephoning Winifred that he + wouldn't be home till morning—or sooner, and elicited a flurry of + questioning which he evaded rather clumsily. + </p> + <p> + It was all right for him to be curious concerning Red's affairs, he + considered, but there was no need for the women to get started on + inquisitive questions. + </p> + <p> + He read himself asleep at last over the office magazines, and was awakened + by a hurried step on the porch and a gust of November night air on his + warm face. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here?” was the question which assaulted him. + </p> + <p> + “Sitting up for you,” was Chester's sleepy reply. He rubbed his eyes. + “Thought you might like to have me see you off:” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going anywhere except back to the case I've just left. Go home + and go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + Chester sat up. He looked at Burns with awakening interest. He had never + seen his friend's face look grimmer than it did now under the gray slouch + hat, which he had worn for the tramp, pulled well down over his brows, and + which, during all his preparations and his hasty departure in the car, it + had not occurred to him to remove or to exchange for the leather cap he + usually wore on such trips. + </p> + <p> + “Back to a country case instead of to Washington?” Incredulity was written + large on Chester's face. + </p> + <p> + Burns nodded, growing grimmer than before, if that were possible. He sat + down on the arm of a chair, glancing over at the desk where his belongings + lay. “How did you know I was going to Washington?” + </p> + <p> + “Inferred it.” + </p> + <p> + “You're mighty quick at inference. Maybe I wasn't. But I was. Now I'm not. + That's all there is to it.” + </p> + <p> + “But why not? Can't you turn the case over? I'll bet my hat it's a + dead-beat case at that!” + </p> + <p> + Burns nodded again. “It is.” + </p> + <p> + “You're an ass, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't expect—her—to stay in Washington waiting for you, + do you, when she only came up for that wedding and is going straight back + to keep some other engagements? That's what Win says she's to do.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't expect her to wait.” Burns pulled the slouch hat lower yet. + Chester could barely see his eyes. He could only hear the tone of his + denial of any such absurd expectation. + </p> + <p> + Chester rose and stood looking down at his friend, who had folded his left + arm over his right in its sling, as he sat on the chair arm, and looked + the picture of dogged resignation. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose there's some reason at the bottom of what strikes me as pure + foolishness,” he admitted. “You won't do me the honour of mentioning it?” + </p> + <p> + “Case of infected wound in the foot. Threatened tetanus. Five-year-old + child.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody competent to treat the case but you?” + </p> + <p> + Burns looked up. Chester saw his eyes now, gloomy but resolute. “No. It's + up to me alone. I owe it to the woman. It's the only child she has left: a + girl. It was her boy I sent to a better world with maledictions on his + mother's head.” + </p> + <p> + Comprehension dawned at last on Chester's face. He saw that, taking into + consideration Burns's feeling in that matter, there was really nothing to + be said. “I hope you win out,” he evolved at length from the confusion of + ideas in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “I hope I do.” Burns rose. “I must send a telegram,” he said, and went to + the telephone in the inner office. + </p> + <p> + While he was there Chester heard the honk of the Imp's horn outside. When + Burns came back he opened the outer door and called to Johnny Caruthers, + to know if he had obtained the serum for which he had been sent to the + druggist. Johnny shouted back that he had. Burns turned to Chester. + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” he said. “Much obliged for waiting up for me.” + </p> + <p> + Then, with a certain fighting expression on his lips which Chester had + learned to know meant that his whole purpose was set on the attainment of + an end for which no price could be too great to pay, Burns went out to + Johnny Caruthers and the Green Imp. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. IN WHICH HE HAS HIS OWN WAY + </h2> + <p> + “Doc”—Joe Tressler followed Burns down the path, leaving his wife + standing in the doorway, her eyes fixed, on the retreating figure of the + man who had saved to her her one remaining child—“Doc, we ain't + a-goin' to forget this!” + </p> + <p> + “Neither am I, Joe, for various reasons,” replied Burns, watching Johnny + Caruthers try the Green Imp's spark. He jumped in beside Johnny and looked + back at Joe. “Remember, now, keep things going just as I leave them, and I + shall expect to find Letty nearly as well as ever when I see her again. I + shall be back in five days. Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be around when you get back, with some money.” + </p> + <p> + Burns looked the man in the eye. “Oh, come, Joe, don't say anything you + don't mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean it this time, Doe—I sure do. Me and the old woman—we—Letty—” + The fellow choked. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Joe. I'm as glad as you are Letty's safe. Take care of her. + Take care of your wife. Do a stroke of good, back-breaking work once in a + while. It'll help that tired feeling of yours that's getting to be + dangerously chronic. You've no idea, Joe, what a satisfaction it is, now + and then, to feel that you've accomplished something. Try it. Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + He waved his hand at the woman in the door, who responded with a flutter + of her dingy apron; which was immediately thereafter applied to her eyes. + Within, by the window, a little pale-faced girl hugged a remarkable doll + with yellow hair and a red silk frock. + </p> + <p> + “You'd ought to be pretty proud, Letty Tressler,” said the woman, + returning to the small convalescent, “to think Doc kissed you when he + left. He's been awful good to you, Doc has, and him with that arm in a + sling a-bothering him all the time. But I didn't think he'd do that.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe it's 'cause I'm so clean now,” speculated the child weakly. “When + he did it he whispered in my ear that he liked clean faces.” + </p> + <p> + “Letty, you ain't goin' to have any kind o' face but a clean face after + this, jest on account o' Doc Burns,” vowed her mother emotionally, and the + child, her doll pressed against her face, nodded. + </p> + <p> + Far down the road Burns was bidding Johnny Caruthers put on more speed. + “We have to make time to-day, Johnny,” he explained. “I'm going to get off + on that ten-thirty to-night if I have to break my other arm to do it. I + don't know that I'd be much more helpless than I am now if I did. Curious, + Johnny, how many things there are a man can't do with one hand.” + </p> + <p> + “I should say you could do more with that left hand of yours than most + folks can with both,” declared young Caruthers, honest admiration in his + eye. + </p> + <p> + Burns laughed—a hearty, care-free laugh. He was in wild spirits, + Johnny could see that, and wondered why the Doctor should be so happy over + pulling a dead-beat family out of their troubles. Everybody knew Joe + Tressler. And Johnny understood that the Doctor had given up going away on + Joe's account ten days ago, when he took the case on the eve of his + departure. Johnny had seen his employer in all stages of tension since + that day, as he had driven him out, at first half-a-dozen times in the + twenty-four hours, to this same little old wreck of a house. Johnny had + driven him to other houses, also to one especially, in the city, where the + lad had sat and speculated much on the extremes of experience in the life + of a busy practitioner. + </p> + <p> + It was to this same house that Johnny took Burns next; a house reached by + a long drive through wonderful grounds, to a palace of a home within which + the man with his arm in the sling disappeared with precisely the same + rather brusque and hurried bearing characteristic of him everywhere. But + Johnny could not see within. If he had, his honest eyes might have opened + still wider. + </p> + <p> + On his way upstairs Burns was intercepted by the master of the house. + </p> + <p> + “You've decided to go with us, Doctor Burns, I hope?” The question was put + in the fashion of a person who expects but one answer. But the answer + proved to be not that one expected. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, but I can't do it, Mr. Walworth.” Burns's left hand, in the + cordial grip which expresses hearty liking, was retained while William + Walworth, who was accustomed to be able to arrange all things to his + pleasure by the simple expedient of paying whatever it might cost, stared + into the bright hazel eyes which met his with their usual straightforward + glance. + </p> + <p> + “Can't'! But you must, my dear Doctor, Pardon me, but I feel that no + ordinary considerations can be allowed to stand in the way. My daughter + needs your care on this journey. Her mother and I have agreed that her + wish to have you with us must be fulfilled. It's an essential factor in + her recovery.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not essential at all, Mr. Walworth. Miss Evelyn is well started on + the road to full health; she has only to keep on. My going with you would + be a mere matter of pleasing her, and that's not in the least necessary.” + </p> + <p> + His smile softened the words which struck upon the ear of the magnate with + an unaccustomed sound. Mr. Walworth released Burns's hand, his manner + stiffening slightly. + </p> + <p> + “I must differ with you, Doctor. I feel that at this stage Evelyn's + pleasure is a thing to be planned for. She has taken this fancy to have + you with us on the Mediterranean cruise. We'll agree to land you and send + you home at the end of a couple of months if you positively feel that you + can't neglect your practice longer. But let me remind you, Doctor, that + your fee will be made to cover all possible income from your practice + during that time, and—I shall not be contented to measure its size + by that.” + </p> + <p> + It was Burns's turn to stiffen within, if he did not let it show + outwardly. He spoke positively and finally. Even William Walworth saw that + it would be of no use to urge a man who said quite quietly: + </p> + <p> + “I've thought it over, as I promised you, and decided against it. I assure + you I appreciate the honour you would do me, and I should immensely like + the experience. But I know my going is not necessary to Miss Evelyn's + recovery, and that's the only thing that could make me hesitate. I'll go + up and see her at once, if you will forgive my haste. I have a busy day + before me.” + </p> + <p> + William Walworth looked after him as he ran up the stately staircase, and + his thoughts were somewhat as Johnny Caruthers's had been. “He's more of a + man, crippled like that, than any I know. I wonder why he won't go. I + wonder. But he won't, that's settled. Now to appease Evelyn. He'll not + find that so easy.” + </p> + <p> + Burns did not find it easy. He sat down beside the convalescent, a patient + who had everything on her side with which to win her chosen physician's + consent to stay by her till she should be in the possession once more of + the blooming beauty which had made her one of the envied of the earth. He + told her, in the direct manner he had used with her father, that he could + not fall in with their plans. + </p> + <p> + When he came away he was tingling all over. It had been so plain. She had + tried to disguise it, but she was where she could not run to cover, and he + had seen it all. It gave him no pleasure: he was not that sort. He was + sorry for the girl, but he was not in the least anxious about her. She + would get over it; it was not his fault—he was conscience-clear on + that. If ever he had been coolly—however kindly—professional + in his bearing it had been in this home of great wealth, where it would + have gone against his inmost grain to have seemed to court liking. If + anything, his orders had been more curt, his concessions fewer, his whole + treatment of the case on simpler lines than it might have been in almost + any less pretentious home with which he was familiar. + </p> + <p> + He ran down the stone steps in eager haste to be gone, his vision still + engaged with the reproachful look Evelyn's mother had given him when she + heard of his incredible refusal to accompany the Walworths on the + luxuriously-equipped expedition in search of recuperation and enjoyment + for the idolized only daughter. “This settles me with them to the end of + time, I suppose,” he said to himself. As the car ran down the drive, he + straightened his shoulders with a sense of thankfulness that his practice + was not often in the homes of the comparatively few people who can afford + to buy even that most precious of commodities, the time of others, when + that time has been consecrated to certain uses. + </p> + <p> + “Not going to stop for lunch, Doctor?” inquired young Caruthers anxiously, + as the round of calls went on and one o'clock passed, with the Imp in a + portion of the city remote from the hotel at which Burns was accustomed to + refresh himself and Johnny when home was out of the question. + </p> + <p> + “We'll go to the hospital next, and I shall be there a couple of hours. + You can go and fill up then. I must be back at the office by four—for + engagements.” + </p> + <p> + So the day went. The busy physician who goes out of town for even a five + days' vacation must plan for it and do much arranging in various ways. In + spite of the fact that it would still be many weeks before Burns could + attempt surgery again, he was having plenty to do. Only the determination + to get away this time without fail made it possible for him to go. But + there would be never a time when he could better be spared, and he meant + to let nothing hinder his purpose. + </p> + <p> + “The arm's coming on well,” was Doctor Buller's verdict late that + afternoon as he gave the healing member its usual manipulation and + massage. “It takes patience to wait, though, doesn't it, Burns? Never + tried a broken arm myself, but I should say that hand must be itching to + be at work in the operating-room again.” + </p> + <p> + “Itching! It's burning, blistering, scarifying! I never knew how I liked + that part of my work till I had to come down to an exclusive practice in + pills and plasters. Grayson's doing a stunt to-day that would have driven + me mad with envy if I could have stopped to look on. Doing it cleverly, + too, by the report I had from Van Horn just now. When Van takes the + trouble to praise another man it means something.” + </p> + <p> + “Means it's been forced from him,” commented Buller. “Besides, Van enjoys + praising Grayson to you. He's enjoyed your smashed arm, too, the old + fraud. Was he ever so decent to you before?” + </p> + <p> + Burns laughed. “You can't strike fire that way today,” he declared. “Hold + on! You're not going to put that arm back into the splints?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I am. It lacks two days yet off the shortest modern regulation + period. Come on here.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave 'em off. I'll take the consequences.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be foolish, man. If I had my way I'd keep the thing put up another + full week. I'm not an advocate of this hurry business.” + </p> + <p> + “I am. The arm's well enough to come out. I'll wear it in a sling, but I + want my coat sleeve on, and I'm going to have it on. Fix me up, will you? + I'm in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “You're going on a journey?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Get busy.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the very reason why you should keep that arm out of danger till + you get back. Jostling round in a crowd.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this my arm or yours?” thundered Burns. + </p> + <p> + Buller laughed. “Don't knock me down with it, Pepper-pot. It may be your + arm, but you're my patient, and I—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you fool yourself. If you won't fix me up I'll go out with it + hanging, I can judge my own condition. Will you dress me and put any arm + in this sling here, or must I send for Grayson? He's none of your idiotic + conservatives.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep quiet, and I'll make you look pretty, little boy. I see—these + are new clothes just home from the tailor, and they're an elegant fit. + Bully fresh scarf, peach of a pin, brand-new black silk sling—Oh, I + say!” + </p> + <p> + For with his good left arm Burns was threatening his professional friend + in a way that looked ominous. But a laugh was in his eye, now that he had + got his way, and the altercation ended in a fire of jokes. Then Burns + stood up. + </p> + <p> + “You're a jewel, Buller boy,” said he. “You've brought me through in great + shape. It was a nasty fracture, and you've given me an arm that'll be as + good as new. I'm grateful—you know that. Now, if you'll look over + that list I gave you of cases here in the city, and go out once to take a + look at Letty Tressler, I'll be ever faithfully yours. Griggs'll see to my + village practice. Now I'm off.” + </p> + <p> + “Hope you enjoy your trip. Must be a concentrated pleasure, to be crammed + into five days and still make you look like a schoolboy just let out,” + observed Buller as Burns turned, with his band on the door-knob. + </p> + <p> + “A dose doesn't have to be big to be powerful,” rejoined Burns, opening + the door. + </p> + <p> + “Nitro-glycerin, eh?” Buller called after the departing bulk of his + friend. “Don't let it carry you too far up. You might come down with a + thud!” + </p> + <p> + “He's right enough there,” was what Burns murmured to himself as he caught + the elevator in the great building in which Buller's office was a crowded + corner. “I may come down in just that style. But better that than any more + of this dead level of suspense. I don't think I could stand that one more + day.” + </p> + <p> + He and Johnny Caruthers whirled home in the Imp to find Burns's village + office as crowded as Buller's city one. It was late before he could get + his dinner, and after it he was kept busy turning calls over to other men. + It was the usual experience to have work pile up during the last hours, as + if Fate were against his breaking his chains and meant to tie him hand and + foot. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to get out of this right now,” he announced suddenly to Miss + Mathewson an hour before train time, as he turned away from a siege over + the telephone with one hysterical lady who felt that her life depended + upon his remaining to see her through an attack of indigestion. “If I + don't, something will come in that will pull hard to keep me home, and I'm + not going to be kept. I'll trust you not to look me up for the next hour, + for I'll not tell you where I'm going, and you can't guess, you know. + Good-bye. Be a good girl.” + </p> + <p> + He wrung her hand, looking at her with that warmth of friendliness which + he was accustomed, when in the mood, to bestow on her, recognizing how + invaluable she was to him, and never once recking what it meant to her to + be so closely associated with him. She answered in her usual quiet way, + wishing him a safe journey and bidding him be very careful of the arm, no + longer protected except by the silken sign that injury had been done. + </p> + <p> + “In a crowd, you know, they won't notice the sling,” she warned him. + </p> + <p> + “Won't they? Well, if my trusty left can't protect my battered right I've + forgotten my boxing tricks. Don't be anxious about that, little friend. + See that Amy Mathewson has a good time in my absence, will you? She's + looking just a bit worn, to me.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, but her eyes did not meet his: she dared not let them. With + all his kindness to her he did not often speak with the real affection + which was in his voice now. She understood that he was, for some reason, + keyed high over his prospective journey even higher than he had been ten + days before when on the point of leaving. And she knew well enough where + he was going, though he had not told her. It would have taken thirty-six + hours to go to Washington, spend a brief time there and return. It was + going to take five days to go to South Carolina, remain long enough to + transact his business—was it business?—and come back. And + there had been no more attempts to write letters by way of an amanuensis. + The affection for his assistant in his manner to her was genuine, she did + not doubt that, but it did not deceive her for a moment. So, she did not + let her eyes meet his. They rested, instead, on the scarfpin which Buller + had termed a “peach,” but they did not see it. She could not remember when + it had been so hard to maintain that quiet control of herself which had + long since made her employer cease to reckon with the possibilities of + fire beneath. + </p> + <p> + R. P. Burns stole away with Johnny and the Imp, without so much as letting + his neighbours know of his intentions. He had made sure that they were all + well; that no incipient scarlet fever or invading measles was threatening + them. He smiled to himself as the car went past the Chester house, to + think how interested they would be to know where he was going. But he got + safely off and nobody opened a door at sound of the Imp to call to him to + come in a minute because somebody seemed not quite well. + </p> + <p> + And then, after all, he ran upon Arthur Chester—and at the city + station, to which he had taken the precaution to go, although the + ten-thirty stopped for a half-minute at the village. It must be admitted + that he tried to dodge his best friend, but he did not succeed. His + shoulders were too conspicuous: he could not get away. + </p> + <p> + “Going to see an out-of-town patient at this hour of night?” queried + Chester, coming up warmly interested, as best friends have a trick of + being, in spite of all that can be done to avert their curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Where else would I be going?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know where else, but I doubt if it's to see a patient. There's an + air about you that's not professional. You—er—you can't be + going to Washington? There's nobody there now.” + </p> + <p> + “No, only a few Government officials and some odds and ends of hangers-on. + To be sure, Congress is in session, but there's nobody there. My train's + been called, Ches; so long.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me carry your bag.” Chester reached for it. “I say, this isn't a + tool-kit—this is a stunner of a regulation travelling bag. See here, + Red,” he was rushing along on the other's side, fairly running to keep up + with Burns's strides—“how long are you going to be gone?” + </p> + <p> + “Long enough to get a change of air. The atmosphere's heavy here with + inquisitive people who call themselves your friends. See here, Ches, + you're not looking well. You need rest and sleep. Go home and go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “You're always telling me to go home and go to bed. Not till I see which + train you take,” panted Chester, his eyes sparkling. “Ha! Going to turn in + at Number Four gate, are you? Sorry I can't take your bag inside. Well, + possibly I can guess your destination. Got your section clear through to + South Carolina? I say, keep your head, old man, keep your head!” + </p> + <p> + Burns turned about, shook his fist at Arthur Chester, seized his bag, + rushed through the gateway and boarded the last of the long string of + Pullmans. On the platform he pulled off his hat and waved it at his + friend. He could forgive anybody for anything tonight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. IN WHICH HE MAKES NO EVENING CALL + </h2> + <p> + Burns opened the white gate—it was sagging a little on its hinges—and + walked up the moss-grown path between the rows of liveoaks to the + tall-columned portico of the still stately, if somewhat timeworn and + decayed, mansion among the shrubbery. It was just at dusk, and far away + somewhere a whippoorwill was calling. It was the only sound on the quiet + air. + </p> + <p> + The door was opened by an old negro servant, who hesitated over his answer + to the question put by this unknown person looming up before him with his + arm in a sling. Mrs. Elmore was in, but she was not well and could not see + any visitors this evening. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mrs. Lessing in?” + </p> + <p> + “Yas, Sah, she is. But she done tole me she couldn't see nobody herse'f. + She tekkin' cah ob Miss Lucy.” + </p> + <p> + Burns produced his card and made a persuasive request. The old darky led + the way to a long, nearly dark apartment, where the scent of roses mingled + with the peculiar odour of old mahogany and ancient rugs and hangings. The + servant lit a tall, antique lamp with crystal pendants hanging from its + shade, the light from which fell upon a bowlful of crimson roses so that + they glowed richly. He left Burns, departing with a shuffling step and an + air of grudging the strange gentleman the occupancy of the room, although + it was to be for only so long as it would take to bring back word that + neither of the ladies would see him to-night. + </p> + <p> + Burns sat still for the space of two minutes then, as no further sound + could be heard in the quiet house, he became restless. His pulses beat + rather heavily and, to quiet them or the sense of them, he got up and + walked about, pausing at one of the long French windows to gaze out into + the dusky labyrinth of a garden, where he could just make out paths + winding about among the bushes. The night was mild, and the window stood + ajar as if some one had lately come in. + </p> + <p> + Then he turned and saw her. She had almost reached him, but he had not + heard her, her footfall upon the old Turkey carpet with its faded roses + and lilies had been so light. She was in white, and the light from the old + lamp shone on her arms end face and brought out the shadows of her hair + and eyes. She put out both hands—then quickly drew back one as her + glance fell upon the sling, and gave him her left, smiling. But he drew + the arm that had been broken out of its support and held it out. + </p> + <p> + “Please take this hand, too,” he said. “It will be its first experience + and, perhaps, it will put new life into it. It's pretty limp yet.” + </p> + <p> + She laid hers in it very gently, looking down at it as his fingers closed + slowly over hers. + </p> + <p> + “That's doing very well, I should think,” she said. “It's barely time for + it to be independent yet, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “About time. I had something of a wrestle with Doctor Buller to get him to + leave the splints off. How warm and soft your hand is. This one of mine + has forgotten how the touch of another hand feels.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure you ought not to use it yet. Please put it back in the sling.” + She drew her own hand gently away. + </p> + <p> + It occurred to him that while he had been absent from her he had not been + able to recall half her charm, and that if he had he would never have been + able to wait half so long before pursuing her down into this Southern + haunt of hers. He drew a full, contented breath. + </p> + <p> + “At last,” he said, “I am face to face with you. It's worth the journey.” + </p> + <p> + In the lamplight it seemed to him the rose cast a reflection on her face + which he had not observed at first. + </p> + <p> + “I'm so sorry Aunt Lucy isn't able to see you tonight,” she said—“unless + she would consent go see you professionally. She really ought—” + </p> + <p> + He held up his hand “Not unless she is in serious straits, please,” he + begged. “I've fled from patients, only to find them all the way down on + the train. I don't know what there can be about me to suggest to a + conductor that I'm the man he's looking for to attend some emergency case, + but he seems to spot me. Only at the station before this did I get + released from the last of the series. Let me forget my profession for a + bit if I can, just now I'm only a man who's come a long way to see you. Is + it really you?” + </p> + <p> + He leaned forward, studying her intently. His head, with its coppery + thatch of heavy hair, showed powerful lines in the lamplight; beneath his + dark throws the hazel eyes glowed black. + </p> + <p> + “It's certainly I,” she answered lightly. “And being I, with the mistress + of the house prevented from showing you hospitality, I must offer it. She + begged me to make you comfortable and to tell you she would see you in the + morning. You've had a long journey. You must want the comfort of a room + and hot water. I'll ring for Old Sam.” + </p> + <p> + She crossed the room and pulled an old-fashioned bell-cord, upon which a + bell was heard to jangle far away. The old darky reappeared. + </p> + <p> + “I should have gone to a hotel,” Burns said, “if I could have found one in + the place.” + </p> + <p> + “There is none. And if there had been Aunt Lucy would have been much hurt + to have you go there. Where did you leave your bag?” + </p> + <p> + “At the station. I can stay only for a night and a day, so it's a small + one.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll send Young Sam for it. Now let Sam take you to your room, and in a + few minutes I'll give you supper.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't bother about supper at this hour. I only want—” + </p> + <p> + “You want what you are to have,—some of Sue's delicious Southern + cookery.” She smiled at him as he looked back at her, following the old + servant. “She's been in the family for forty years and she loves to have + company to appreciate her dishes. Sam, you are to help Doctor Burns. He + has had a broken arm.” + </p> + <p> + When Burns came down, fresh from a bath and comfortable with clean linen, + he smelled odours which made him realize that, eager as he was for other + things, he was human enough to be intensely hungry with a healthy man's + appetite. So he surrendered himself to the fortunes that now befell him. + </p> + <p> + Old Sam conducted him to the dining-room, a quaintly attractive apartment + where candle-light illumined the bare mahogany of the round table laid + with a large square of linen at his place and set with delicate ancient + china and silver. Ellen Lessing was already there in a high-backed chair + opposite the one set for him, a figure to which his eyes were again drawn + irresistibly and upon which they continued to rest as he took his seat. + </p> + <p> + Sam disappeared toward the kitchen, and Burns spoke in a low voice across + the table. + </p> + <p> + “I feel as if I were in a dream,” said he. “Forty-eight hours ago I was + rushing about, hundreds of miles from here, trying to attend to the wants + of a lot of people who seemed determined not to let me get away. Now I'm + down here in the midst of all this quiet and peace, with you before me to + look at, and nobody to demand anything of me for at least twenty-four + hours. It's all too good to be true.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems rather odd to me, too,” she answered, letting her eyes stray + from his and rest upon the bowl of japonicas of a glowing pink, which + stood in the centre of the table. The candle-light made little starry + points in her dark eyes as she looked at the rich-hued blooms. “The last + person in the world I was expecting to see to-night was you.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I was as far from your thoughts as your expectation,” he + suggested. + </p> + <p> + “How should I be thinking of a person who had not written to me for so + long I thought he had forgotten me?” she asked, and then as he broke out + into a delighted laugh at her expense she grew as, pink as her flowers and + seemed to welcome the return of Sam bearing a trayful of Sue's good things + to eat. + </p> + <p> + Fried chicken and sweet potatoes, beaten biscuit and fragrant coffee, had + a flavour all their own to Burns that night. He ate as a hungry man + should, yet never forgot his companion for a moment or allowed her to + imagine that he forgot her. And by and by the meal was over and the two + rose from the table. + </p> + <p> + “I must go and see that Auntie is comfortable for the night, if you will + excuse me for half an hour,” said the person he had come to see. “Will you + wait in the drawing-room? I will have Sam bring you some late magazines.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll wait, and no magazines, thank you. I can fill the time somehow,” he + answered. “But don't let it be more than the half-hour, will you?” + </p> + <p> + He watched her until she disappeared from his sight at the turn of the + staircase landing, then went in to pace up and down the long room, his + left arm folded over his right, after the fashion he had acquired since + the right arm became useless. After what seemed an interminable interval + she came back. He met her at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Are the duties all done?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “All done for the present. I must look in on Auntie by and by, but I think + she is going to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “May she sleep the sleep of the just! And there's nothing more you feel it + incumbent upon you to do for me? No more sending me to my room, no more + waiting upon me by Sam, no more feeding me till my capacity is reached? Is + there really no notion in your mind as to how you can put off the coming + hour?” + </p> + <p> + His voice had its old, whimsical inflection, but there was a deeper note + in it, too. She parried him gently, yet not quite so composedly as was her + wont. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I want to put if off? Aren't we going to sit down and have a + delightful talk? I want to hear all about Bob and Martha and all of them, + and about your work since I saw you.” + </p> + <p> + “You want to hear all about those things, do you? I had the impression + that we discussed them quite thoroughly while I was at supper. Still, I + can go over them all again if you insist. It may take up another five + minutes, and when one is fencing for time, even five minutes counts.” + </p> + <p> + It was his old way, with a vengeance. There was a saying of Arthur + Chester's current among his and Burns's friends that it never was of any + use to try to evade Red Pepper when once he had begun to fire upon your + defenses. With his eyes searching you and his insolent tongue putting + point blank questions to you, you might as well capitulate first as last. + </p> + <p> + There being no conceivable answer to this thrust about fencing for time, + even for a woman experienced in replying skilfully to men under all sorts + of conditions, Ellen Lessing was forced to look up or play the part of a + shy girl. So she looked up, lifting her head bravely. There really was + nothing else to do. + </p> + <p> + It was all in his face. He had not come all those hundreds of miles to pay + her an evening call, nor did he mean to be put off longer. His eyes held + hers: she could not withdraw them. + </p> + <p> + “It's odd,” he said, speaking slowly, “how like a magnet drawing a steel + bar you've drawn me down here. Pull-pull-pull—an irresistible force. + I wonder if the magnet feels the attraction, too? Could it pull so hard if + it didn't?” + </p> + <p> + There was a long minute during which neither stirred—it might have + been the counterpart of that minute, months back, when they had first + observed each other. Recognition it was, perhaps, at the very first; there + could be no question about the recognition now—it went deep. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he slipped his right arm out of the sling. Before she could draw + breath she was in the circle of his arms, but he had not touched her. + </p> + <p> + “Am I wrong?” he was saying. “Has it pulled both ways from the first?” + </p> + <p> + It must be as useless for the magnet to resist as for the bar. And when + they, have come within a certain distance of each other— + </p> + <p> + If Red Pepper's left arm caught her in the stronger grasp, the right did + all, and more than all, that could have been expected of it. It was his + right arm which slowly drew her hands up, one after the other, and + indicated to them that their place was locked together, behind his neck. + </p> + <p> + An old garden in South Carolina is a place to lure the Northerner + out-of-doors. Before breakfast next morning Burns was walking down the + box-bordered paths, feasting his gaze and his sense of fragrance on the + clumps of blue and white violets, the clusters of gay crocuses, the + splendid spikes of Roman hyacinths. But he did not fail to keep track of + all doorways in sight, and when she appeared at the open French window of + the drawing-room he was there in a trice, offering her a bunch of purple + violets and feasting his eyes upon her morning freshness. + </p> + <p> + “I'm still dreaming, I think,” said he when he had drawn her back into the + quiet room long enough to satisfy himself with the active demonstration + that possession means privilege, and had himself fastened the violets in + the front of her crisp white morning dress. “Dreaming that I can stay down + here in this wonderful paradise with you and not go back to the slave's + life I lead.” + </p> + <p> + “You would never be happy away from that slave's life long, you know,” she + reminded him. “The rush of it is the joy of it to you.” + </p> + <p> + “How will it be to you? I shall be yours, you remember, till Joe Tressler + or any other ne'er-do-weel wants me, then I'm his.” + </p> + <p> + “But you'll always come back to me,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “And will you be content with that?” + </p> + <p> + “So long as you want to come back.” + </p> + <p> + He looked steadily into her eyes, and his own took fire. “Want to come + back! I've waited a long time to find the woman I could be sure I should + always want to come back to. I thought there would never be such a woman: + not for an erratic fellow like me.... But now I'm wondering how I shall + ever be able to stay away.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. IN WHICH HE DEFIES SUPERSTITION + </h2> + <p> + “Hades of Hymen! Red, are you making calls this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? I'm not to be married till noon, am I?” + </p> + <p> + “I say, take me with you, will you? I want to go along with a man who has + the nerve to see patients up to the last minute before his wedding!” + </p> + <p> + “Takes less nerve than to sit around and wait for the fateful hour, I + should say. Come on, if you think you'll have time to dress when you get + back. It may be close work.” + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you got to dress yourself?” demanded Arthur Chester, settling + himself in the car beside its driver. “Or shall you go to the altar in + tweeds with April mud on your boots?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather than not get there, yes. But I can dress in half the time you can—always + could, and necessity has developed the art. Look here, there isn't any + April mud. The roads are fine.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I suppose if I were booked for a wedding journey in the Green Imp + before the leaves were fairly out I shouldn't be able to see any mud + myself. As it is, well, I don't know the colour of the bride's motoring + clothes, but I presume they'll be adapted to the circumstances. I never + saw her look anything but ready for whatever situation she happened to be + in. That's a trick that'll serve her many a good turn as the wife of R. P. + Burns, M.D., eh, Red?” + </p> + <p> + The Imp whirled about the country all the morning, having made an early + start. The car was in fine fettle, like a horse that has been trained for + a race. Although it was beginning its second season it had never been in + better trim for business. The engine, having been cared for and seldom + abused, was running more smoothly than when it had been first put upon the + road. The Imp had had a fresh coat of the dark-green which gave it its + name, and its brasswork was shining as only Johnny Caruthers by long and + untiring labors could make metal shine. It had that morning acquired a + luggage-rack attached to its rear, which was soon to receive a + leather-covered motor trunk at that moment receiving its final + consignments in the Macauley house; and there were several other new + fittings about the machine which indicated that it was presently to be put + to uses which had never been required of it before. + </p> + <p> + The Imp drew up in front of the hospital. Chester looked anxiously at his + watch for the twenty-seventh time that morning. “For Heaven's sake, hurry, + Red,” he urged. “Women are the dickens about having a wedding late, and + it's ten minutes of eleven now. Noon comes sure and soon, and at noon, + allow me to remind you—” + </p> + <p> + Burns nodded. “Keep cool, boy,” he recommended. “No use getting excited + before a critical operation.” + </p> + <p> + But he disappeared at a pace fast enough to satisfy Chester, who sat back + and said to himself that R. P. had come nearer giving the crisis before + him its appropriate name than he had ever heard done before. + </p> + <p> + He became anxious again, however, before Burns returned, and his watch was + in his hand when the prospective bridegroom bolted out of the hospital + door and ran for his car as if he had not a moment to spare. + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see you're losing your head a trifle at last,” commented Chester + as the Imp turned a dizzy curve and shot away. “It's the only proper + thing. But we've really enough time if you don't stop anywhere else. + What's the matter? Good Lord, man, you'll get nabbed if you speed up like + this within limits. You—” + </p> + <p> + “Cut it and don't talk. I've got to make time,” was all the answer or + explanation he received; and Chester, with the wisdom of long association + with Red Pepper at his pepperest, obeyed. + </p> + <p> + As they approached the house Burns spoke for the first time since they had + left the city. “Go in and tell the bunch I have to do an operation at the + hospital as quick as I can get my stuff and drive back there. I'll be back + at—” + </p> + <p> + “Great Christopher, man! But—” + </p> + <p> + “I can be back by two. Ellen will understand.” + </p> + <p> + “The deuce she will! Don't ask me to explain to her.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't. I'll do it myself. You tell the rest.” + </p> + <p> + The Imp shot up the driveway. Burns jumped out and ran to his office. Five + minutes later, instrument bag in hand, he ran out again, Miss Mathewson + following. He bolted in at the Macauleys' front door. Chester had already + broken the incredible news to Martha Macauley and was standing out a storm + of expostulations and reproaches, as if by any chance anybody could expect + Arthur Chester to be able to stop R. P. Burns when he had started upon any + course of action whatsoever. But when Burns himself appeared at the + doorway the situation came to a crisis. Towering beside a group of palms + which decorated the foot of the staircase Burns demanded to see Ellen. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Red, you can't. She's—besides how can you—” + </p> + <p> + “Ask her to come where I can speak to her then. Quick, please.” + </p> + <p> + “But she—” + </p> + <p> + There was no knowing how long the sparring might have lasted, or what + extreme measures might have been taken, had not a figure in a floating + lilac-and-white garment, with two long braids of dark hair hanging over + its shoulders, appeared upon the staircase landing. Burns looked up, saw + it, and was up the stairs to the landing before Chester could flick an + eyelash. + </p> + <p> + “Dear, to save a life I want to delay things just two hours. There's + nobody else to do it. Van Horn was taken ill just as he was getting ready. + The only other man who would venture under the conditions—Grayson—is + out of town.” + </p> + <p> + His arms were about her as she stood a step above him. So, her eyes were + level with his. + </p> + <p> + “Do it, of course,” she whispered. “And take my love with you.” + </p> + <p> + For one minute Burns stayed to tell her that he had known she would send + him to his duty, then he was off. The door slammed behind him, and outside + the Imp's horn sent back a parting salute. + </p> + <p> + From the bottom stair Martha Macauley, distressed young matron and + hostess, gazed up at her sister, who, with arms leaning on the + vine-wreathed rail at the landing, was smiling down at her. + </p> + <p> + “Ellen! Was ever anything so crazy! I did suppose Red would take time + enough to be married in. There's everybody coming.” + </p> + <p> + “So few you can easily telephone them all to wait.” + </p> + <p> + “And the breakfast under way—” + </p> + <p> + “It will keep.” + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you superstitious enough not to want to postpone your wedding?” + demanded Martha urgently. + </p> + <p> + The dark braids of hair swung violently as the bride's head was + emphatically shaken. “Martha! Take it back! Let somebody die because I was + afraid to wait two hours?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe anybody would die,” insisted Martha. “Somebody could be + found. It's just Red's ridiculous craze for surgery. I always said he'd + rather operate than eat. Now, it seems he'd rather operate than be—” + </p> + <p> + But at this moment a large, determined hand came over her mouth from + behind, as James Macauley, junior, arriving upon the scene, asserted his + authority. He was in bathrobe and slippers, having been excitedly + interviewed by Chester through the bathroom door. + </p> + <p> + “Quit fussing, Marty. The thing can't be helped, and if Ellen doesn't mind + I don't know why we should. If we were having a houseful it would be + fierce, but with only ourselves and the Chesters and the minister's family + and Red's people—I'll go telephone Mr. Harding now.” + </p> + <p> + As Martha freed herself from the silencing hand the front door opened + again. This time it was Mrs. Richard Warburton—Burns's young sister + Anne—also in somewhat informal attire, over which she had thrown an + evening coat. She surveyed the group with laughing eyes. She herself had + been married within the year. + </p> + <p> + “It's absurd, isn't it?” she cried. “But it's just like Red. Ellen knows + that, don't you, dear? Ellen'll not only take him for better and for + worse, but for present and for absent—mostly absent! But we're + rather proud of him over at the house. Father's walking up and down and + saying no other fellow would have done it, and Mother's all tearful and + smiling. Dick wanted to go in with him, but of course Miss Mathewson had + to go: he seldom operates without her.” + </p> + <p> + “It's so uncertain when he'll get back,” mourned Martha, still + unreconciled. + </p> + <p> + “I made Miss Mathewson promise to telephone, the moment she should know. + It's lucky the wedding guests are all in the family, isn't it? Ellen, + dear”—pretty Anne ran up the stairs to the landing—“I really + don't see how, after he caught sight of you in that fascinating garb, with + your hair down, he could ever tear himself away! You're positively the + loveliest thing I ever saw in all my life, and I'm almost out of my senses + with joy that you're to be my sister, even though I never saw you in the + world till yesterday! I always said when Red did care for anybody for + keeps, she'd be a jewel!” + </p> + <p> + Red Pepper came back at precisely twenty minutes of three. His patient had + given him a bad hour of anxiety immediately after leaving the table, and + he could not desert her until she had rallied. But he felt easy about her + now, and he had arranged to leave her in Buller's hands—Buller, who + did not do major surgery himself, but was a most competent man when it + came to the care of surgical patients after operation. Burns brought Amy + Mathewson back with him, though she had begged to be allowed to stay with + the case. + </p> + <p> + “And not be at my wedding?” cried Red Pepper, in exuberant spirits. “Why, + I couldn't be properly married without you to see me through!” + </p> + <p> + Upon which she had smiled and obeyed him, and taken a tighter grip upon + herself as he put her into the Green Imp for the last ride together. That + was what it was to her, though she might yet go with him a thousand times + to help him in his work. To him it was a quick and joyful journey back to + his marriage. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Mother and Dad!” he exulted, coming in upon them in their + festal array. He shook hands with his father and his brother-in-law; he + kissed his mother. Then he ran for his own room where Bobby Burns, just + being finished off by Anne, herself superbly dressed, shrieked with + rapture at the sight of him. + </p> + <p> + “Red! At last! I've laid everything ready; you've only to jump into your + bath; I turned on the water when Dick saw the Imp down the road. Don't you + dare have a vestige of a surgical odour about you when you come out!” + </p> + <p> + In precisely seventeen minutes and three-quarters the bridegroom was ready + to the last coppery affair on his head. + </p> + <p> + “Have I a 'surgical odour,' Anne?” he asked as he came up to her. + </p> + <p> + She buried her face on his shoulder, both arms about him, regardless of + her finery. “You're the dearest, sweetest old trump of a brother that ever + lived, and you smell like sunshine and fresh air!” she cried. Whereat he + shook with laughter and patted her back as she clung to him. + </p> + <p> + “Promise me, Red,” she begged, lifting her head, “that you won't let + anything—anything—keep you from going off with Ellen in the + Imp. She's been so lovely about this horrid delay, but I'm always + suspicious of you. Promise!” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you this,” agreed her brother: “Wherever the Imp and I go, + after the minister has said the words, for this two weeks Ellen shall go + with me.” + </p> + <p><br /> + “Chester,” said Dick Warburton as he stood in that gentleman's company, + looking over a stupendous assortment of wedding gifts, which, in spite of + the fact that nobody outside the family had been asked to see Redfield + Pepper Burns married, overflowed two large rooms into the upper hall and + almost over the railing, “will you tell me who in the name of time sent + that rat-trap? This is the most extraordinary display of gold, silver, and + tinware that I ever saw, and I'm at the end of my astonishment. But that + rat-trap, is it a joke?” + </p> + <p> + “No joke whatever—,” declared Chester. “It comes from one of + Red's devoted friends—his own invention. And the point of the + thing is that the making of that rat-trap is going to be the making of the + worst dead-beat of a patient Red ever stood by. I really believe Joe + Tressler's going to get a patent on it, which also will be Red's doing. + But this is a special, particular rat-trap made of extra fine materials, + suitable for a wedding gift!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” mused Burns's brother-in-law. “And what millionaire sent the + diamond pendant? By Jove, I haven't seen finer jewels than those this side + of the water.” + </p> + <p> + “That came from the Walworths, I believe. Take it all together, it's a + great collection, isn't it? It shows up the odder because Ellen wouldn't + have the freak grateful-patient gifts put to one side—or even thrown + into a sort of refining shadow. Fix your eye on that rainbow quilt, will + you, Dicky, alongside of the Florentine tapestry? That quilt would put out + your eye if you gazed upon it steadily, so let up on it by regarding this + match-safe. Wouldn't that—” + </p> + <p> + “That came from Johnny Caruthers,” said a richly modulated low voice + behind him. “Please set it down carefully, Mr. Arthur Chester.” + </p> + <p> + The two men wheeled to see the bride come to the defense of her wedding + gifts. Behind her loomed her husband, laughing over her head, his eyes + none the less tender, like hers, for the queer presents which meant no + less of love and gratitude than the costlier gifts, of which there was no + mean array. + </p> + <p> + “I see you've married him, patients and all, Ellen Burns,” declared + Richard Warburton. “On the whole, it's your wisest course. The less he + knows you mind their devotion to him—” + </p> + <p> + “Mind it!” She gave him the flash of which the soft black eyes were + brilliantly capable. “Dick, I have no gift I like so well as that + rat-trap. You don't know the story, but I do, and it means to me—fidelity + to duty. And if there's one great big thing in the world I think it's + that!” + </p> + <p> + Over her head, Dick Warburton nodded at his brother-in-law. “I'm glad + we've got her into the family, Red,” said he. “It's a mighty rare thing to + find a beautiful woman who knows how to dress like a picture, with that + ideal at the back of her head! Cherish her, Red. If you don't I'll come + around and knock you down!” + </p> + <p> + “I'll let you do it,” agreed Burns soberly. All his marriage vows were in + his face. + </p> + <p><br /> + It was quite dusk when the Green Imp got away. Johnny Caruthers had the + satisfaction of lighting up the car's lamps—always a joy to him, and + particularly so to-night, for even the oil taillight bore witness to his + trimming and polishing till its red eye could gleam no brighter. As for + the front lamps and the searchlight the Imp's progress would be as down an + avenue of brilliance if its driver allowed them all full play upon the + road. + </p> + <p> + “She's in great trim, Johnny,” said Burns's voice in his ear. “I like her + looks immensely. I shall hate to get a speck of mud on her.” + </p> + <p> + “Meaning the lady, Doc?” asked Johnny anxiously. “There's a wet bit there + under the elms, Doc, remember. It would be a pity to splash any mud on + her!” + </p> + <p> + He glanced toward the porch, his freckled face eloquent of his admiration + for the figure which was the centre of the group gathered there. + </p> + <p> + Burns's eyes followed his. Bob, a picturesque, small person in his wedding + attire of white linen, was attempting to tie Ellen's motor-veil for her, + as she stooped, smiling, to the level of his eager little arms. It + occurred to both master and man, as they watched the child's efforts to + adjust the floating chiffon, that veils, however useful, were to be + regretted when they were allowed even partially to obscure faces like + those of Red Pepper's wife. + </p> + <p> + “I meant the car, lad,” explained Burns, laughing. “You've done a great + piece of work an her since I brought her home this afternoon. I'm afraid + you've done some last polishing with your wedding clothes on, Johnny. + Here's something to take the spots out.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Doc!” breathed the boy. “Not to-night, Let me do it—for you—and + her.” + </p> + <p> + The money went back into Burns's pocket, and his hand met Johnny's in a + hearty grasp. “That's better yet,” said he, “and thank you, John. If + anybody but you were sending me off I'd ask if everything was surely in + the car But I'll not even ask you.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't need to,” vowed the boy proudly. “And there's some things in + you don't need to know about, just extrys in case of breakdown.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, that,” said his employer, “is what call proving one's self a + friend.” + </p> + <p> + The Imp went cautiously through the “wet bit,” for it lay under the corner + arc-light, and Johnny Caruthers would be watching. But, once on the open + road outside the village, the pace quickened. For late April the roads + were not bad, and if they had been sloughs the Imp could have pulled + through them. She had a great power hidden away in those six cylinders of + hers, had the Imp. + </p> + <p> + “You'll not mind if I stop at the hospital as we go through?” questioned + Burns. “Then we'll be off, out the old west road, out of reach of + telephones and summonses of any sort. But I shall be just that much + easier.” + </p> + <p> + “Do stop, please. I'm sure you'll be more satisfied and so shall I.” + </p> + <p> + She sat quietly in the car while he was gone looking up at the lighted + windows and thinking all sorts of sympathetic thoughts concerning those + inside—yet with a tiny fear in her heart that he would find some new + and unavoidable duty to detain him. If he should— + </p> + <p> + But he was back, and as the Imp's searchlight fell upon his face, + returning, she read there that he was free. + </p> + <p> + “Doing well, everything satisfactory, and I've not a care in the world,” + he exulted as he leaped in. “Now we're off, and never a stop till we've + put a wide space between us and the rest of them.” + </p> + <p> + The Green Imp ran at its quietest along the city streets, then through the + thinning suburbs, and finally, with the lights all behind them, the open + country ahead, the long, low car came out upon the straight highway which + leads a hundred miles before it comes again to any but insignificant + hamlets and small, rustic inns. + </p> + <p> + Burns had said little thus far, but as he glanced over his shoulder at the + now distant lights of the city he suddenly spoke low, out of the quiet: + </p> + <p> + “We're out of reach of everything and everybody; nobody even knows the + road we're taking. We're all alone in the world together. You can't think + what that means to me. I've lived nine years at the call of every soul + that wanted me: hardly a vacation except for study. A fortnight seems + pretty short allowance for a honeymoon; we'll take a longer one when we go + to Germany in the fall. But—for two weeks—” + </p> + <p> + He looked down at her in the April starlight. He bent to finish the + statement, whatever it might have been, upon her lips, for speech failed + him. Then, with a happy laugh, he gave the Green Imp her head. + </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2725 ***</div> + </body> +</html> + |