diff options
Diffstat (limited to '29570-8.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 29570-8.txt | 6748 |
1 files changed, 6748 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/29570-8.txt b/29570-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..579c59c --- /dev/null +++ b/29570-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6748 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rope, by Holworthy Hall + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rope + +Author: Holworthy Hall + +Release Date: August 2, 2009 [EBook #29570] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROPE *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +ROPE + + + + +ROPE + +BY + +HOLWORTHY HALL + +Author of "The Man Nobody Knew," etc. + +NEW YORK + +DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY + +1922 + + + + +ROPE + +CHAPTER I + + +As Henry came blithely into the house with a heavy suit-case in one +hand and a cumbersome kit-bag in the other, his Aunt Mirabelle marched +out like a grenadier from the living-room, and posted herself in the +hallway to watch him approach. There was this much to say for Aunt +Mirabelle: she was at least consistent, and for twenty years she had +worn the same expression whenever she looked at him. During that +period the rest of the world and Henry had altered, developed, +advanced--but not Aunt Mirabelle. She had changed neither the style of +her clothes nor the nature of her convictions; she had disapproved of +Henry when he was six, and therefore, she disapproved of him today. To +let him know it, she regarded him precisely as though he were still +six, and had forgotten to wash his face. + +"I suppose," remarked Aunt Mirabelle, in her most abrasive voice, "I +suppose you're waiting for me to say I hope you had a good time. Well, +I'm not a-going to say it, because it wouldn't be true, and I wouldn't +want to have it sitting on my conscience. Of course, _some_ people +haven't got much of any conscience for anything to sit on, anyway. If +they did, they'd be earnest, useful citizens. If they did, then once +in a while they'd think about something else besides loud ties and +silk socks and golf. And they wouldn't be gallivanting off on +house-parties for a week at a time, either; they'd be tending to their +business--if they had any. And if they hadn't, they ought to." + +Henry put down the bag and the suit-case, removed his straw hat, and +grinned, with a fair imitation of cheerfulness. He had never learned +how to handle Aunt Mirabelle, and small wonder; for if he listened in +silence, he was called sulky; if he disputed her, he was called +flippant; if he agreed with her, she accused him of fraud; and if he +obeyed his natural instincts, and treated her with tolerant +good-humour, she usually went on a conversation strike, and never +weakened until after the twelfth apology. Whatever he did was wrong, +so that purely on speculation, he grinned, and said what came to his +tongue. + +"Maybe so," said Henry, "maybe so, but conscience is a plant of slow +growth," and immediately after he had said this, he wished that he had +chosen a different epigram--something which wasn't so liable to come +back at him, later, like a boomerang. + +"Humph!" said Aunt Mirabelle. "It is, is it? Well, if I was in your +place, I'd be impatient for it to grow faster." + +Henry shook his head. "No, I don't believe you would. I've read +somewhere that impatience dries the blood more than age or sorrow." He +assumed an air of critical satisfaction. "The bird that wrote that had +pretty good technique, don't you think?" + +She shrugged her shoulders. "All right, Henry. Be pert. But I know +what made you so almighty anxious to sneak off on this house-party; +and I know whose account it was you went on, too, and I don't see for +the _life_ of me why your uncle hasn't put his foot down." She sighed, +as though in deep mourning. "I did hope you'd grow up different from +these other boys, Henry, but you're all of you just alike. When you +get old enough, do you pick out some pure, innocent, sensible, young +woman that's been trained the way girls were trained in _my_ day? No. +You go and make fools of yourselves over these short-skirted little +hussies all powdered up like a box of marshmallows. And as long as +they're spry enough _and_ immodest enough to do all these new bunny +dances and what not, you think that's a sure sign they'll make good +wives and mothers. Humph. Makes me sick." + +In spite of himself, Henry lost his artificial grin, and began to turn +dull red. "I wouldn't go quite so far as to say that." + +"Well," retorted Aunt Mirabelle, "I didn't hardly expect you would. +But you'll go far enough to _see_ one of 'em, I notice.... Well, your +uncle's home this afternoon; long's he's paying your bills, you might +have the grace to go in and say howdy-you-do to him." She marched +upstairs, and Henry, revolving his hat in his hand, gazed after her +until she was out of sight. He stood, irresolute, until the echo of +her common-sense shoes died into silence; and as he lingered, he was +struck for the ten thousandth time by the amazing mystery of the human +family. + +First, there was his mother, a small and exquisite woman with music in +her heart and in the tips of her fingers; his memory of her was dim, +but he knew that she had been the maddest and the merriest of all +possible mothers--a creature of joy and sunshine and the sheer +happiness of existence. And then her sister Mirabelle, who found life +such a serious condition to be in, and loved nothing about it, save +the task of reforming it for other people whether the other people +liked it or not. And finally, her brother John, bald, fat, and +good-natured; a man whose personal interests were bounded by his own +physical comfort, and by his desire to see everyone else equally +comfortable. Whenever Henry thought of this trio, he reflected that +his grandparents must have been very versatile. + +He drew a long breath, and glanced up the stairway, as though the +spirit of his Aunt Mirabelle were still haunting him; then, with a +depressing recollection of what she had said about his conscience, and +with hot resentment at what she said about his taste, he walked slowly +into the library. + +His uncle John Starkweather, who had been writing at a big desk +between the windows, sprang up to shake hands with him. "Hello, boy! +Thought Bob Standish must have kidnapped you. Have a good party?" + +"Fine, thanks," said Henry, but his tone was so subdued and joyless +that his uncle stared at him for a moment, and then went over to close +the door. Standing with his back to it, Mr. Starkweather smiled +reminiscently and a trifle ruefully, and began to peel the band from a +cigar. "What's the matter? Mirabelle say anything to you?" + +"Why--nothing special." + +His uncle hesitated. "In a good many ways," he said, lowering his +voice, "Mirabelle puts me in mind of my father. When he was a boy, +out in the country, he'd had to smash the ice in the water-pitcher +every mornin', and he was proud of it--thought a boy that hadn't +earned some of his godliness with an ice-pick was a dude. Thought +what was good enough for his father was good enough for _him_, and +sometimes it was _too_ good. Didn't believe in modern improvements +like telephones and easy chairs and three-tined forks; didn't believe +in labour-savin' devices because labour wasn't _meant_ to be saved. +Bible says for us to work six days a week, and if he ever had any +spare time before Sat'day night, he figured he must have forgot +somethin'. Business--well, he called advertisin' a rich man's luxury, +and said an audit was an insult to his partners. Said he'd welcome a +sheriff sooner'n he would an expert accountant--and in the long +run, that's exactly what he _did_. Involuntary bankruptcy--found +his sanctimonious old cashier'd been sanctimoniously lootin' the +till for eighteen years." He paused, and eyed his cigar. "Well, +Mirabelle's cut more or less off the same piece. Lord, I wish _she_ +could go through some kind of bankruptcy, if 't would shake her up +like it did father." + +"It--shook him up, did it?" inquired Henry, fidgeting. + +"Well," said his uncle, "after the crash, I don't recollect he ever +mentioned the good old times again except once; and that was to praise +the good old habit of takin' defaulters and boilin' 'em in oil. No, +sir, he wouldn't so much as add two and two together without an addin' +machine, and he used to make an inventory of his shirts and winter +flannels pretty near every week. And Mirabelle's the same way; she's +still tryin' to live under the 1874 rules." He came back to his desk, +and sat down thoughtfully. "Well, she's been talkin' to me ever since +you went off on this party and as far's most of it's concerned, I'm +not on _her_ side, and I'm not on _your_ side; I'm sort of betwixt and +between." He looked sidewise at Henry, and discovered that Henry was +peering off into space, and smiling as though he saw a vision in the +clouds. "Just as man to man, just for the information; suppose you +passed up everything I've said to you, and went and got married one of +these days--did you expect I'd go on supportin' you?" + +Henry came down to earth, and his expression showed that he had landed +heavily. "Why--what was that?" + +His uncle repeated it, with a postscript. "Oh, I've always told you +you could have anything you wanted within reason that I could pay for. +But from what I been told"--his eyes twinkled--"wives ain't always +reasonable. And it does seem to me that when a young man gets to be +twenty five or six, and never did a lick of work in his life, and +loafs around clubs and plays polo just because he's got a rich uncle, +why, it's a sort of a reflection on both of 'em. Seem so to you?" + +Henry glanced up nervously and down again. "To tell the truth, I +hadn't thought much about it." + +"Say," said his uncle, confidentially. "Neither had I. Not 'till +Mirabelle told me you went off on this party because Anna Barklay was +goin' to be there.... Now I had pretty hard sleddin' when I was your +age; I've kind of liked to see you enjoy yourself. But Mirabelle--Now +I said before, I ain't on _her_ side, and I ain't on _your_ side; I +had the thing out with you once or twice already, and I guess you +know what my angles are. Only if Mirabelle's got any grounds, maybe I +ought to say it over again.... You been out of college four years now, +and you tried the automobile business for two months and the bond +business for two weeks and the real-estate business for two minutes, +and there you quit. You spent five, six thousand a year and _that_ was +all right, but I admit I don't like the idea of your gettin' married +on nothin' but prospects, specially when _I_'m all the prospects there +is. Sound fair to you?" + +Henry nodded, with much repression, "You couldn't be unfair if you +tried, Uncle John." + +"Well, you was always open to reason, even when you was in +kindergarten.... Now, in some ways I don't approve of you any more'n +Mirabelle does, but she wants me to go too blamed far. She wants me to +turn you loose the way my father did me. She wants me to say if you +should ever marry without my consent I'll cut you out of my will. But +that's old stuff. That's cold turkey. Mirabelle don't know times have +changed--she's so busy with that cussed Reform League of hers, she +don't have time to reform any of her own slants about things." He +rolled his cigar under his tongue. + +"Well, I'm goin' to compromise. Before you get involved too deep, I +want you to know what's in my mind. I don't believe it's the best +thing for either of us for me to go on bein' a kind of an evergreen +money-bush. And a man that's earnin' his own livin' don't have to ask +odds of anybody. Don't you think you better bundle up your courage and +get to work, Henry?" + +Henry was twiddling his watch-chain. "It hasn't been a matter of +_courage_, exactly--" + +"Oh, I know _that_. I don't believe you're _scared_ of work; you're +only sort of shy about it. I never saw you really afraid of more'n +three things--bein' a spoil-sport, or out of style, or havin' a waiter +think you're stingy. No, you ain't _afraid_ of work, but you never +been properly introduced, so you're kind of standoffish about it. I've +always kind of hoped you'd take a tip from Bob Standish--_there's_ +one of your own breed that knows where the durable satisfactions of +life are. Just as good family's yours; just as much money; just as +fond of games;--and workin' like a prize pup in my office and makin' +good. _He_'ll tell you.... But if you go get married, boy, before you +show you _could_ take care of yourself, and what money I might leave +you--oh, I don't say you got to put over any miracle, but I _do_ say +you got to learn the value of money first. You'd do that by earnin' +some. If you don't, then you and me'd have a quarrel. Sound logical to +you?" + +Henry was frowning a little, and sitting nearer to the edge of his +chair. "Too _darned_ logical," he said. + +His uncle surveyed him with great indulgence. "What's the idea?" he +asked, humourously. "You ain't gone off and got yourself married +already, have you?" + +Henry stood up, and squared his shoulders, and looked straight into +his uncle's eyes. His voice was strained, but at the same time it held +a faint note of relief, as if he had contained his secret too long +for his own nerves. "Yes, Uncle John...." + +And waited, as before the Court of last appeal. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The older man sat limp in his chair, and stared until the ash of his +cigar tumbled, untidily, over his waistcoat. He brushed at it with +uncertain, ineffective motions, but his eyes never left his nephew. He +put the cigar once more to his lips, shuddered, and flung it away. + +"Boy--" he said, at length, "Boy--is that true?" + +Henry cleared his throat. "Yes, Uncle John." + +"Who is it? Anna Barklay?" + +"Yes, Uncle John." + +"_When?_" + +"Yesterday afternoon." + +"Does--Judge Barklay know it yet?" + +"No, not yet. He's out of town." + +His uncle drew a tremendous breath, and pulled himself upright. "Boy," +he said, "why in the hell did you ever go and do a thing like that?... +Haven't I been pretty decent to you, the best I knew how?... Why'd +you ever go, and--_have_ I been mistaken in you all this while? Why, +boy, I thought you and me were _friends_." + +There was another heavy silence. "I don't know. It just happened. The +way things do--sometimes. We've always been crazy about each other." + +Mr. Starkweather was looking at and through his nephew, who was +man-grown and presumably a rational human being; but what Mr. +Starkweather actually saw was the vision of a little boy dressed in +Lord Fauntleroy velvet, with silver knee-buckles and a lace collar; +and much as a drowning man is supposed to review, in a lightning +flash, every incident of his whole life, so was Mr. Starkweather +reviewing the life of Henry, beginning with the era of black velvet, +and ending with the immediate present. That history was a continuous +record of dashing impulses, and the gayest irresponsibility; and yet, +when the time came for an accounting, Henry had offered only +explanations, and never excuses. In his glorious pursuit of the +calendar, he had paid his penalties as royally as he had earned them; +and even now, when he was confessed of the most impetuous and the +most astounding act of all his unballasted youth, he had nothing to +say in defence. As a climax, marriage had "happened" to him, and he +was braced for whatever might happen next. + +Presently, Mr. Starkweather, coming out of his daze, began to wonder +if, by this very climax, Henry hadn't prescribed his own medicine, and +at the same time taken out insurance on his own salvation. For one +thing, he had selected the right girl--a girl with no money, and +plenty of character--a girl who would manage him so skilfully that +Henry would think himself the manager. For another thing, Mr. +Starkweather believed that Henry was profoundly in love with her, even +though he tried to conceal his seriousness by spreading it with a +generous helping of light manner, and modern vocabulary. These facts, +together with Mr. Starkweather's control of the finances, might +possibly operate as the twin levers which would pry Henry out of his +improvidence. The levers themselves were certainly strong enough; it +was a question only of Henry's resistance. Mr. Starkweather winced to +realize that by the time the minute-hand of his watch had gone twice +again around the dial, he should know definitely and permanently +whether Henry was worth his powder, or not. + +He leaned his elbows on his desk, judicially. "I'm pretty much knocked +edgeways, Henry--but tell me one more thing; this wasn't any bet, was +it, or--" + +"Bet!" flared Henry, and all the youth went out of his features. + +"Yes. Nobody _dared_ you to go and get married--it wasn't any kind of +a put-up job, was it?" + +The younger man was righteously indignant. "Uncle John, I admit I +haven't won any medals for--for _some_ things,--and maybe you think I +_am_ the kind of bird that would--do this on a bet, or a dare--and if +you _do_ think that--I guess we're _both_ mistaken in each other!" + +His uncle's hand went up. "Hold your horses! You've answered the +question. If you hadn't got mad, I'd have thrown you out the window. +Why _did_ you do it, then?... No--never mind." He looked away. "_I_ +know. Spring, and impulse and no emergency brakes. _I_ know...." He +looked back at Henry, and smiled oddly. "And I was just goin' to tell +you, before you sprung it on me, that if you cared two cents about +that girl,--and me, too,--you'd want to deserve her:--do somethin' +besides be a model to hang expensive clothes on." + +"Yes," said Henry, also judicial. "I guess I'm entitled to that +wallop." + +His uncle nodded. "That one and quite a few more. Still, you never +heard anybody accuse me of not bein' a good sport, did you?" + +"No, Uncle John. I counted on it." + +"Who knows this--besides us?" + +"Just Bob Standish. We took him along for a witness." + +"So! Bob Standish! Hm. I'd have thought Bob'd had sense enough to try +to stop it. I'll have words with him." + +"He did try." + +Mr. Starkweather rose. "Where's Anna?" + +"Out in the car. With Bob." + +His uncle froze. "Out there? Waitin' there all this time? For Heaven's +sake, Henry, she'll be in a conniption fit! You go bring her in +here--and tell her to stop worryin'. I'm sore as the devil, and I'm +goin' to make an example out of you, but that ain't any reason to act +like a grouch, is it? Sound sensible to you? Bring her in here. Not +Bob--I'll see him afterwards." + + * * * * * + +She was small and intensely feminine, but there was nothing fragile +about her, and no slightest hint of helplessness. She was pretty +enough, too, and her attractions were more than skin-deep; to the +qualities which showed in her eyes--sincerity and humour and +imagination--there was also to be added sweetness of disposition and +sensitiveness, which were proved by the curves of her mouth; and +finally, there was quiet determination, stopping just short of +stubbornness, which was evident in the moulding of her strong little +chin. + +She came in slowly, questioningly, not in fear, but merely poised so +as to adjust herself to any style of reception. Mr. Starkweather +met her eyes and laughed--a fat, spontaneous, understanding +laugh--and blushing furiously, she ran to him, with both her hands +outstretched. + +"Well, my dear," said Mr. Starkweather, and interrupted himself long +enough to kiss her, "I'll say Henry's got a darned sight better +judgment 'n _you_ have.... Go on and blush. Make a good job of it. +Ashamed of yourself? So 'm I. Sit down there and cringe. You too, +Henry." He himself remained on his feet. "Funny thing," he said, after +a pause. "Only chance I ever had to get married myself was somethin' +like this is--oh, _I_ wasn't a gilt loafer, like Henry is; I was +workin' sixteen hours a day, but I wasn't makin' money enough. Both +our fathers said so. And she'd have run off, but I wouldn't. Thought +it wasn't respectable, I guess. Anyhow, it kind of petered out, and I +lost my nerve. Wish to thunder I'd taken a chance when I had it. Worth +it, sometimes." He whirled on Henry, abruptly. "Well, you took _your_ +chance. Now let's see if you think it's worth it. If you're figurin' +on any help from me, you got to work for it first. If you'd waited, +I'd kind of made things easy for you. Now, I'm goin' to hand you the +meanest job I can think of. It won't be an insult and it won't be a +joke, but maybe you'll take it for both--until you learn better." + +"What is it, Uncle John?" + +"I'll tell you when you get back from your honeymoon." + +The two young people stared at each other, and at Mr. Starkweather. +"From our--what?" asked the girl, incredulously. + +"Honeymoon. Oh, you made a couple of prize fools of yourselves, and if +I did what I ought to, I'd cut Henry off sharp this minute. But--guess +I better make a fool of _my_self, so you'll feel more at home." He +coughed explosively. "Besides, you're awful young, both of you--and +damn it, if you don't cash in on it now, next thing you know you'll be +wonderin' where the time's gone, anyway. No sense in robbin' you of +the best months of your life, just because you hadn't sense enough to +rob your_selves_ of it--is there? Oh, I suppose I'm a kind of a +sentimental cuss, but--must be I like the feelin' of it." He jerked +his head toward Henry. "This is April. Take her off somewhere--Italy? +South of France?--'till next August. Then you report back here, all +fixed and ready to eat crow. Sound fair to you?" + +The girl rose, and crossed the room to him. "Mr. Starkweather--" + +"Name's Uncle John," he corrected. "You married it." + +"Uncle John--I--I don't know how to--" She bit her lip, and he saw the +depths of her eyes, and saw that they were filling with tears. She +gestured imperatively to Henry. "You know him better--_you_ tell +him." + +Henry had sprung across to join them. "Uncle John, you're a peach! +I'll break rock on the streets if you say so! You're a peach!" + +"Well," said Mr. Starkweather, uncomfortably. "If everybody else's +goin' to bawl, I guess it'll have to be contagious.... Only when you +get back, you're both goin' to pay the piper. I'm goin' to make Henry +earn his salt, whether he's got it in him or not; I'm goin' to make +him crawl. That goes as it stands, too; no foolin'.... Look here, +don't you want me to break it to the Judge? Guess I better. I can put +it up to him in _writin'_ twice as good as Henry put it up to me by +talkin', anyhow.... And I'll put an announcement in the _Herald_ +that'll take the cuss off. Anna, you hustle up some engraved notices +to get around to all our friends. You know what's in style.... Oh, +you're a couple of champion idiots, and Henry's goin' to sweat for it +when he comes home, but--God bless you, my boy, and you too, my +dear--only _how_ in blazes am I goin' to get it across to Mirabelle? +That's what bites me the worst, Henry; that's what bites me the +worst!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +In a small office on the third floor of the City Bank Building Mr. +Theodore Mix, broker and amateur politician, sat moodily intent upon +his morning newspaper. For thirty years (he was fifty-five) Mr. Mix +had been a prominent and a mildly influential citizen, and by great +effort he had managed to keep himself excessively overrated. A few +years ago he had even been mentioned as a candidate for Mayor, and the +ambition was still alive within him, although fulfilment was never so +distant. But despite his appearance, which was dignified, and despite +his manner, which would have done for the diplomatic corps, and +despite his connection with local charities and churches and civic +committees, Mr. Mix was secretly a bit of a bounder; and although the +past decade or two he had made a handsome income, he had contrived to +get rid of it as fast as he conveniently could, and by methods which +wouldn't always have stood analysis. + +Lately, for no apparent cause, his best customers had edged away from +him; he was gliding rapidly into debt, and he knew that unless he +clambered out again within six or eight weeks, he should have +considerable difficulty in preserving his reputation, both financial +and ethical. And like all men in the same position, Mr. Mix was +fiercely jealous of his prestige; by long practice he had warped +himself into thinking that it belonged to him; and he was ready to +defend it with every conceivable weapon. + +For the moment, however, Mr. Mix was querulous rather than defensive. +He was trying to place the blame for the past two seasons of +misfortune, and when he observed that Pacific Refining was twelve +points up from Saturday's close, he sighed wearily and told himself +that it was all a matter of luck. He had had an appointment, last +Saturday at nine o'clock, with his friend John Starkweather, and he +had meant to borrow something from him, if possible, and to risk a +few hundred shares of Pacific Refining on margin; but he had +overslept, and Mr. Starkweather had left his office at nine fifteen +and hadn't come back again that day, so that the profit which might so +easily have come to rest in Mr. Mix's pockets was now in other +quarters. + +Luck! The most intangible of assets and the most unescapable of +liabilities. On Saturday, Mr. Mix had arrived too late because he had +overslept because his alarm-clock had been tinkered by a watchmaker +who had inherited a taste for alcohol from a parent who had been +ruined by the Chicago fire--and almost before he knew it, Mr. Mix had +trailed the blame to Adam and Eve, and was feeling personally +resentful. It was plain to him that his failure wasn't in any sense +his own fault. + +As he resumed his paper, however, his querulousness yielded to a broad +sunny optimism, and he turned to the sporting page and hunted out the +news from the Bowie track. He had a friend at Bowie, and the friend +owned a horse which he swore was the darkest three-year-old in +captivity; he had wired Mr. Mix to hypothecate his shirt, and bet the +proceeds on the fourth race, this coming Saturday. The odds would be +at least 10 to 1, he said, and he could place all the money that Mr. +Mix might send him. + +Mr. Mix leaned back and built a stable in the air. Suppose he could +borrow a couple of thousand. Twenty thousand clear profit. Then a +quick dash into the cotton-market (the price was certainly going to +break wide open in another month) and the twenty would unfold, and +expand, and become fifty. And if a shrewd, cold-blooded man went down +to Wall Street with fifty thousand dollars, and played close to his +chest, he ought to double his capital in four months. To be sure, Mr. +Mix had been losing steadily for a dozen years, but he was confident +that he had it in him to be a great and successful plunger. He felt +it. Heretofore, he had been handicapped by operating on a shoestring; +but with fifty thousand dollars to put his back against-- + +His stenographer announced a caller, and on the instant, Mr. Mix, put +on his other personality, and prepared to silver his tongue. The +caller, however, came straight to Mr. Mix's desk, and flipped out one +sheet from a large portfolio. "Say," he remarked brusquely. "What's +the matter with this bill? Ziegler and Company. Two ninety two +sixty--dated November." + +Mr. Mix laughed genially, and offered a cigar. "Why, nothing's the +matter with it." + +"What's the matter with Ziegler and Company? Aren't they solvent?" + +The visitor lighted his cigar, and mellowed. "Well it ain't any of +_my_ funeral, but Ziegler he says if you don't settle by the +fifteenth, he'll give it to his attorney." + +For the third time in a week, an attorney had been lugged into the +conversation; more than that, Mr. Mix had received four letters from +two different collection agencies. "In the words of the Good Book," he +said soothingly, "have patience and I will pay thee all." + +"What say? Will I come in next week sometime?" + +"Now, that," said Mr. Mix, with a rush of approval, "is a first-rate +idea. That's first-rate. Come in next week some time." + +"Right-o. Only Ziegler, he's pretty hard-boiled, Mr. Mix.... Say, why +don't you gimme a check now, and save me from gettin' flat-footed? Two +ninety two sixty? Why for _you_ that's chicken-feed." + +"Bill hasn't been audited yet," said Mr. Mix, with all the grandeur of +an industrial chieftain. "Come in next week." + +The visitor went out, and Mr. Mix scowled at the bill, threatened to +tear it, and finally put it away in a drawer where it had plenty of +companionship. To think that after his lifetime as an important +citizen--generally supposed to be well-to-do if not actually rich--he +couldn't pay a trifling account of less than three hundred dollars +because he didn't have three hundred dollars in the bank. Collection +agencies and the warning of suits--and impertinence from young +ruffians who were hired to dun him! He scowled more heavily, and then +gave his shoulders an upward movement of rancour and disgust. + +And yet--the lines receded from his forehead--and yet there was +always John Starkweather, and the friend at Bowie. Mr. Mix rose, +and went out to the corridor, and down it to a door which was +lettered with Mr. Starkweather's name, followed by the inscription: +Real Estate and Insurance, Mortgage Loans. And as he entered, and +remembered that thirty years ago he and John Starkweather had +occupied adjoining stools at the same high desk, and broken their +back over the same drudgery, and at the same wage, he was filled +with an emotion which made his cheeks warm. Side by side, only +thirty years ago, and separated now by the Lord knew what, and +the Lord knew why. Mr. Mix knew that he was brainier than John +Starkweather; he admitted it. Brainier, smoother, quicker of wit, +and more polished. But Starkweather's office handled the bulk of +local realty transactions; it wrote more insurance than all of +its competitors in a mass; it loaned almost as much money, on +mortgage, as the Trust and Savings. And Mr. Mix, Broker, was on the +verge of bankruptcy. Luck! No question about it. + +At the swinging gate there was a girl-clerk who smiled up at him, +flirtatiously. "Want to see the boss? He's busy for a coupla +minutes." + +"All right," said Mr. Mix in an undertone. "I'll stay here and talk to +you." + +"The nerve of some folks! Think I'm paid to listen to your line of hot +air? Not 'till they double my salary. You go sit down and have a +thought. Exercise's what you need." + +Mr. Mix rolled his eyes heavenward. "So young, and so heartless!" he +murmured, and went sedately forward to the reception room. + +The door of the private office was not quite closed; so that the +voices of two men were faintly audible. Mr. Mix cast about him, made +sure that he was unobserved, and dignifiedly changed his seat--nearer +that door. + +"Yes," said a voice which at first he couldn't recognize. "The deed's +recorded. So legally, Henry owns the property now." Mr. Mix nodded +triumphantly; the voice belonged to Mr. Archer, a leading lawyer and +Mr. Starkweather's closest friend. + +"That's the idea." This was in Mr. Starkweather's familiar bass. "Now +how'd you fix the will?" + +"Why, it was very simple. Your point was that you didn't want +everybody to know what was going on. So--" + +"No. And if I put a lot o' conditions like that in a will, why just as +soon as it was probated, Henry and Mirabelle'd both get an awful lot +o' bum publicity. They'd both be sore, and I'd look like a nut.... +Naturally, I don't plan to die off as soon as all this, but better be +safe. I just want to fix it up so Henry'll get the same deal no matter +what happens." + +"Very wise, very wise,... Well, here's what I've done. I've changed +the will so that the entire residuary estate is left to me in trust +for your sister and nephew to be administered according to the +trust-deed we're executing today. They can probate that until they're +black in the face, but nobody's going to find out any more than we +want them to." + +"Sounds all right so far, but don't you have to take a trust agreement +like that into Court, too?" + +"Sooner or later, yes. But you'll notice that I've covered it so that +unless Henry or Miss Starkweather says something, nobody's going to +know until the year's out, and I make the accounting. Now for the +trust agreement itself--if Henry demonstrates to me that within a +year--" + +"A year from August first. The lease don't expire 'till then, and +Henry won't be home 'till then. August to August's what I'm goin' to +put up to him." + +"Correct. If he demonstrates to me that within the calendar year he's +made a net profit of ten thousand dollars from the property--by the +way, isn't that rather steep?" + +"No. Man's in there now's made three thousand and manhandled it. Just +horse-sense and some alterations and advertising'll bring it up to +ten." + +"You're the doctor. If Henry makes ten out of it, then he receives +from me, as trustee, the whole residuary estate, otherwise it goes to +your sister. And during that trial year, she gets the whole income +from it, anyway." + +Mr. Mix was sitting motionless as a cat. + +"That's right." + +"Well, then, if you'll just read these over and make sure I've got +your meaning, and then get a couple of witnesses in here, we can +clear the whole thing up and have it out of the way." + +Mr. Mix heard the scrape of chair-legs against the floor, and hastily, +on tiptoe, he crossed the room to his original seat, and in passing +the centre table he helped himself to a magazine which he was reading +with much concentration when the door of the private office opened. + +"Why, hello, Mix," said Mr. Starkweather. "Been waitin' long? Be with +you in half a second." + +"Just got here," said Mr. Mix, as though startled. He returned the +magazine to the table, and was still standing when his friend came +back, in convoy of young Mr. Robert Standish, his chief assistant. + +"Come on in, Mix. Want you to witness a will." + +"Anything to oblige," said Mr. Mix, with alacrity. + +He spoke cordially to young Mr. Standish and in another moment, to the +lawyer. With due solemnity he carried out the function which was +assigned to him; he would have loved a peep at the body of the +documents, but already he was possessed of some very interesting +information, and he kept his eyes religiously in the boat. Mr. Mix +believed that in business and society, as well as in war, advance +information is the basis of victory; and even while he was blotting +his second signature, he was wondering how to capitalize what he had +overheard. No inspiration came to him; so that methodically he stowed +away the facts for reference. + +"Stay right here, Mix. That's all, ain't it, Mr. Archer?" + +"That's all." The lawyer was packing up his papers. "Good-morning, +gentlemen." He bowed himself away; Standish had long since vanished. + +Mr. Starkweather mopped his face. "Hot, ain't it?" + +"You aren't looking so very fit," said Mr. Mix, critically. "Feel all +right, do you?" + +Mr. Starkweather pulled himself together. "Sure," he said, but his +voice lacked its usual heartiness. "I feel fine. Well, what can I do +for you?" + +Mr. Mix, delaying only to close the door (and to see that it latched) +began with a foreword which was followed by a preface and then by a +prelude, but he had hardly reached the main introduction when Mr. +Starkweather put up his hand. "To make a long story short, Mix--how +much do you want?" + +Mr. Mix looked pained. "Why, to tide me over the dull season, John, I +need--let's see--" He stole a glance at his friend, and doubled the +ante. "About five thousand." + +Mr. Starkweather drummed on his desk. "Any security!" + +Mr. Mix smiled blandly. "What's security between friends? I'll give +you a demand note." + +At length, Mr. Starkweather stopped drumming. "Mix, I don't quite get +you.... You've had a good business; you must have made considerable +money. You oughtn't be borrowin' from me; that's what your bank's for. +You oughtn't be borrowin' money any way. You been too big a man to get +in a hole like this. What's wrong--business rotten?" + +"_Too_ good," said Mr. Mix, frankly. "It's taking all my capital to +carry my customers. And you know how tight money is." + +"Oh, yes. Well--I guess your credit's good for five, all right. When +do you have to have it? Now?" + +"Any time that suits you, suits me." + +Mr. Starkweather shook his head. "No, it don't, either. When a man +wants money, he _wants_ it. Wants it some particular day. When is +it?" + +"Why, if you _could_ let me have it today, John, I'd appreciate it." + +"Make out your note," said Mr. Starkweather, heavily, "Interest at six +percent, semi-annually. I'll have the cashier write you out a check." + +Ten minutes later Mr. Mix, patting his breast pocket affectionately, +bestowed a paternal smile upon the girl at the wicket; and Mr. +Starkweather, alone in his office, drew a prodigious breath and +slumped down in his chair, and fell to gazing out over the roof-tops. + +It was a fortnight, now, since Henry's last letter. He wished that +Henry would write oftener. He told himself that one of Henry's +impulsive, buoyant letters would furnish the only efficacious antidote +to Mirabelle. And he needed an antidote, and a powerful one, for +during the past two weeks Mirabelle had been surpassing herself. That +is, if one can surpass a superlative. + +Judge Barklay, of course, had taken the revelation like a man. Like a +philosopher. He was fond of Henry personally; he had objected to him +purely for the obvious reasons. He agreed, however, with Mr. +Starkweather--marriage might awaken Henry to complete responsibility. +Indeed he had Mr. Starkweather's guaranty of it. To be sure a secret +marriage was somewhat sensational, somewhat indecorous-- + +"Humph!" Mirabelle had interrupted. "I don't know who's insulted +most--you or us. Still I suppose you've got _one_ consolation--and +that's if two young fools marry each other instead of somebody else it +only leaves just the two of 'em to repent at leisure instead of +four." + +Mr. Starkweather recalled, with chagrin, his own and the Judge's +futile attempts at tact. Mirabelle was tact-proof; you might as well +try subtle diplomacy on a locomotive. He took another deep breath, +and gazed abstractedly out over the roof-tops. He wished that Henry +would write. Henry had his defects, but the house was not quite +livable without him. Mr. Starkweather was swept by an emotion which +took him wholly by surprise and almost overcame him; he sat up, and +began to wonder where he could find some occupation which would chink +up the crevices in his thoughts, and prevent him from introspection. +Eventually he hit upon it, and with a conscious effort, he pulled +himself out of his chair, and went over to Masonic Hall to meet his +sister Mirabelle. + +She had been attending a conference of the Ethical Reform League, and +as Mr. Starkweather's car drew in to the curb, the reformers were just +emerging to the sidewalk. He surveyed them, disparagingly. First, +there was a vanguard of middle-aged women, remarkably short of waist +and long of skirt, who looked as though they had stepped directly from +the files of Godey's Lady's Book; he recognized a few of them, and +judged the others accordingly--these were the militants, the infantry, +who bore the brunt of the fighting. Next, there was a group of +younger women, and of young men--the men, almost without exception, +wore spectacles and white washable ties. These were the skirmishers +and the reserves. At one side, there was a little delegation in +frock-coats and silk hats, and as Mr. Starkweather beheld them, he +lifted his eyebrows; some of those older men he hadn't seen in public +for a dozen years--he had forgotten that they were alive. But the +majority of them were retired or retiring capitalists; men who in +their day, had managed important interests, and even now controlled +them. Mr. Starkweather reflected that life must have become very +insipid to them; and he further reflected that their place in this +organization must be as shock-troops. They would seldom go into +action, but when they did, they had the power of consequence to give +them an added momentum. + +His sister caught sight of him, and waved her hand in greeting; and +this astonished him all the more, because since Henry's departure, she +had behaved towards him as though his character needed a bath. + +Mr. Starkweather made room for her. "Thought I'd give you a lift back +to the house," he said. + +There was an unusual colour in her cheeks, and her eyes were +brilliant. "John, do you know what I am?" + +Mr. Starkweather didn't dare to hesitate. "No. What?" + +"I'm the--president," she said, and her voice was trembling with pride +and bewilderment. + +"President? Of the League?" + +Transfigured, she nodded again and again. "The nominating committee +reported this morning. I'm the only candidate...." She stared at him +and stiffened. "Of course, I know you aren't interested in anything +helpful or progressive, so I don't expect to be congratulated. Of +course not." + +Mr. Starkweather made a dutiful struggle to be joyous about it, +and succeeded only in producing a feeble smirk. "I'll say one +thing--you've got some money represented in that crowd. Those old +codgers. I didn't realize it.... Well, what's your program?" + +She unbent a little, and began to recite her platform, and as she +skipped from plank to plank, her own enthusiasm was multiplied, and +Mr. Starkweather was correspondingly encased in gloom. As a mere +active member of the League, a private in the ranks, Mirabelle had +made his house no more cheerful as a mausoleum; and when he considered +what she might accomplish as a president, in charge of a sweeping +blue-law campaign, his imagination refused to take the hurdle. + +Fortunately, he wasn't expected to say anything. His sister was making +a speech. She didn't stop when the car stopped, nor when Mr. +Starkweather climbed down stiffly, and held open the door for her, nor +even when they had reached the portico of the big brick house. He told +himself, dumbly, that if the world would ever listen to Mirabelle, it +would certainly reform. Not necessarily in contrition, but in +self-defence. + +And yet when he sat opposite her, at lunch, his expression was as calm +and untroubled as though she had fashioned for him an ideal existence. +He was seeing a vision of Mirabelle as a soap-box orator; he was +seeing humorous stories about her in the newspapers; he was +shuddering at all the publicity which he knew would be her portion, +and yet he could smile across the table at her, and speak in his +normal voice. Physically, he was distressed and joyless, but he found +it easier to rise above his body than above his mind. His smile was a +tribute to a dual heroism. + +"Got a little present for you," said Mr. Starkweather, suddenly. He +tossed a slip of paper to her, and watched her as she examined it. +"There's a string to it, though--I want you to hold it awhile." + +She looked up, sceptically. "Suppose it's good?" + +"Oh, it's perfectly good. Mix is all right. Only I don't want you to +press him for awhile. Not for three, four months, anyhow." He pushed +away his dessert, untasted. "You know why I'm givin' you these little +dibs and dabs every now and then, don't you? So if anything ever +happens to me, all of a sudden, you'll have somethin' to draw on. +Let's see, I've put about forty in the little trust fund I been +buildin' up for you, and given you twelve--" He broke off abruptly; +his own symptoms puzzled him. As though somebody had tried to +throttle him. + +His sister had already been sitting bolt upright, but now she achieved +an even greater rigidity. "Did you take my advice about your will? I +don't suppose you did." + +"I made some changes in it this morning," said Mr. Starkweather, +uncomfortably. + +"Did you do what I told you to--about Henry?" + +He was struggling to keep a grip on himself. "Well, no--not exactly." + +"Oh, you didn't?" she said tartly. "Well, what _did_ you do?" + +"Mirabelle," said her brother, "don't you think that's--just a little +mite personal?" + +"Well--I should hope so. I meant it to be. After the way Henry's +acted, he don't deserve one bit of sympathy, or one dollar from +anybody. And if _I_'ve got anything to say, he won't get it, either." + +Mr. Starkweather's round, fat face, wore an expression which his +sister hadn't seen before. He stood up, and held the back of his chair +for support. "Mirabelle, you haven't got a _word_ to say about it. +I've made some changes in my will, but it's nobody's damned business +outside of mine." + +She reached for her handkerchief. "John! To think that you'd +_swear_--at _me_--" + +He wet his lips. "I didn't swear at you, but it's a holy wonder I +don't. I've stood this just about as long as I'm goin' to. Henry's my +own flesh and blood. And furthermore he wouldn't waste my money a +minute quicker'n _you_ would. He'd do a damn sight better with it. +He'd have a good time with it, and make everybody in the neighbourhood +happy, and you'd burn it up in one of your confounded reform clubs. +Well, all I've got's a sister and a nephew, so I guess the money's +goin' to be wasted anyhow. But one way's as good's another, and +Henry's goin' to get a fair break, and don't you forget it." He took a +glass of water from the table, and spilled half of it. "Don't you +forget it." + +At last, she had perception. "John, you don't know what you're saying! +What's the matter? Are you sick?" + +He was swallowing repeatedly. "Yes, I am. Sick of the whole thing." +His eyes, and the hue of his cheeks, genuinely alarmed her; she went +to him, but he avoided her. "No, I don't want anything except to be +let alone.... Is the car out there?" + +"But John--_listen_ to me--" + +He waved her off. "I listened to you the day Henry came home, +Mirabelle. That's enough to last me quite some time. I ain't forgot a +word you said--not a word. Where's my hat?" He rushed past her, and +out of the house, and left her gaping after him. + +Half an hour later, young Mr. Standish telephoned to her. + +"Miss Starkweather?... Your brother isn't feeling any too well, and +I've just sent him home. He looks to me as if he's in pretty bad +shape. Wouldn't be a bad idea to have your doctor there, seems to +me." + +She had the doctor there, and before the night was over, there was +another doctor in consultation. There were also two nurses. And to +both doctors, both nurses and Mirabelle, Mr. Starkweather, who knew +his destiny, whispered the same message at intervals of fifteen +minutes. "Don't have Henry come back--don't have Henry come back--no +sense his comin' back 'till August. Tell him I said so. Tell him I +want him to stay over there--'till August." + +And then, in the cool, fresh morning, Mr. Starkweather, who hadn't +stirred a muscle for several hours, suddenly tried to sit up. + +"Postman!" said Mr. Starkweather, with much difficulty. + +He was waiting for a letter from Henry, and when they put it into his +hands, he smiled and was content. He hadn't the strength to open it, +and he wouldn't let anyone else touch it; he was satisfied to know +that Henry had written. And after that, there was nothing worth +waiting for. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +It never occurred to Henry, when he came home in late July, to take +his wife to the big brick house which had been his uncle's. He didn't +know whether the house would go to Aunt Mirabelle or to himself, and +for the time being, it was immaterial; Aunt Mirabelle was welcome to +possession of it, undisturbed. Except for his uncle, there would have +been open warfare between them long ago; now that the arbitrator was +gone, war was inevitable, but Henry wouldn't fight on sacred ground. +He preferred to accept the hospitality of Judge Barklay. The Judge's +house was a third the size, and not the least prepossessing, and there +really wasn't room for the young Devereuxs in it, but as soon as you +stepped inside the door, you knew that you were welcome. + +He was sorry for his aunt, and he went to see her immediately, but +even in this new situation, she let him know that she disapproved of +him thoroughly and permanently. She wasn't reconciled to his +marriage; she didn't care to receive Anna; she implied that regardless +of Mr. Starkweather's express wishes, Henry was a stony-hearted +ingrate for remaining so long abroad. To be sure, his presence at home +would have served no purpose whatsoever, but Mirabelle was firm in her +opinion. More than that, she succeeded in making Henry feel that by +his conduct he had hurried his uncle into an untimely grave; she +didn't say this flatly, nor yet by innuendo, but she managed to convey +it through the atmosphere. + +"Of course," she said, "you've been to call on Mr. Archer, haven't +you?" + +Henry flushed indignantly. "I hadn't even thought about it." + +"Well, when you do, you'll hear some fine news." Her lip curled. "Your +friend Bob Standish's bought the business. Some of it, anyway. Bought +it on a shoestring's _my_ guess,--but he's bought it." + +"I didn't know it, Aunt Mirabelle." + +"Well, they only closed the deal a few days ago." + +"Good for Bob!" He was thinking that if honest toil were demanded of +him, nothing could be more pleasant than an alliance with this same +Standish. His uncle had always offered up Standish, subtly, as an +illustration of what Henry himself ought to be. And it was a tribute +to the mutual affection of all three men that Henry had never been +irritated at Mr. Starkweather, nor resentful towards his friend. On +the contrary, he admitted that unless he were himself, he would rather +be Standish than anyone else. He wondered if his uncle could have +planned for him so delightful a penance as a year or two of happy +servitude under Bob. He must see Bob and congratulate him. Only +twenty-seven, and the head of the most important concern of its type +in several counties. + +Aunt Mirabelle sniffed. "Good for _nothing_. He's most as scatter-brained +as you are." + +Henry declined the combat, and after she sensed his intention, she +went on, with increasing acridity. + +"The rest of the whole estate's tied up for a year in a trust, to see +what you're going to do with some piece of property he deeded to you +just before he died, but Mr. Archer wouldn't tell me much about it +'till you came home. I _suppose_ it's part of the business--some +department of it. If you can make ten thousand dollars out of it, +you're to have everything. All _I_ get's a few thousand outright, and +what John gave me in a little separate fund, and a year's income from +the whole estate. I suppose you think that's perfectly fair and right +and just. Naturally, you would." + +In his present mood, Henry was immune to astonishment. "I don't +believe it's up to me to criticize Uncle John, whatever he did." + +"Not under the circumstances, no. You've got some piece of property--_I_ +don't know what it is; he didn't tell me; _I_'m only his sister--and +he's fixed things so it's just a gamble for you. You're going to do the +gambling; and I sit back and fold my hands and wait a year to see +whether you get everything, or I do. Even this house." + +"What's that?" + +She made a deprecating gesture. "Oh, yes, if you aren't a good enough +gambler, then _I_ come into everything. It puts me in such a sweet +position, doesn't it? So comfortable for me." Her smile was bitter; +she was recalling what her brother had said to her at lunch, on that +final day--that he wouldn't listen to her, because already he had +heard the worst that she had to say. Originally, as she knew, he had +intended to bequeath Henry a fourth of his property, and herself the +remainder; and she knew that by her too vigorous indictment of Henry +she had egged her brother into a state of mind which, regardless of +the cause of it, she still considered to be unfathomable. The memory +galled her, and so did the possibility of Henry's triumph. "Well," she +said, "I wish you every happiness and success, Henry. I suppose you +feel in your conscience you deserve it, don't you?" + +When he left her, he was aware that the last tie had been severed. + + * * * * * + +His friend Bob Standish was a young man who in the past ten years had +achieved many different kinds of success by the reason that mere +acquaintances, as well as strangers, invariably underestimated him. +For one thing, his skin was so tender, his eyes so blue and innocent, +his mouth so wide and sensitive, his forehead so white and high, +that he gave the impression of almost childish simplicity and +ingenuousness. For another thing, he dressed with such meticulous +regard for the fashion, and he moved about with such indolent +amiability, that his clothes and his manners distracted attention +from what was underneath. + +And so, at college, a full battalion of kindly sophomores had +volunteered to teach him poker, and couldn't understand why the +profits went not to the teacher, but to the pupil. Immature +professors, who liked to score off idlers and fat-brained sons of +plutocrats, had selected him as the perfect target, and some of them +had required several terms to realize that Standish, always baby-eyed, +beau-attired and apparently dreaming of far distant things, was never +lower in rank than the top twenty of his class. Out on the Field, +visiting ends and tackles, meeting him for the first time, had nearly +laughed in his face, and prepared to slaughter him, only to discover, +with alarm and horror which steadily increased from the first whistle +to the last, that Standish could explode his muscles with such a burst +of dynamic energy that his hundred and sixty pounds felt like two +hundred and ten. It was equally discouraging to learn, from breathless +experience, that when he was in his stride he was as unpursueable as a +coyote; and that he could diagnose the other fellow's tactics even +before the other fellow had quite decided what to do next. + +In commerce, he had merely continued the same species of career; and +by virtue of being thoroughly depreciated, and even pitied, by his +customers, he had risen in six years from the grade of city insurance +solicitor to that of Mr. Starkweather's principal assistant. And now, +as casually as he had ever raked in a jack-pot from the bewildered +sophomores, he had bought the Starkweather business, and not on a +shoestring, either, as Mirabelle had suspected. + +He had roomed with Henry at college; he had been his inseparable +companion, out of office hours, ever since; he knew him too well to +proffer any trite condolence. But his sympathy was firm and warm in +his fingers when he shook hands and Henry got the message. + +"Thought probably you'd rather not have me at the train," said +Standish, "so I didn't come. Right or wrong?" + +"Right, Bob.... Allow smoking in your sanctum?" + +"Don't allow anybody _not_ to smoke. What are you doing--borrowing or +offering?" + +Henry glanced at Standish's brand. "Neither one. Every man for +himself--and you've got vile taste. Well, I hear you're the big boss +around here. Please, mister, gimme a job?" + +"Nothing I'd like better," said Standish. "I've got just the thing for +you. Sit over on the window-sill and be a lily. Flowers brighten up an +office so." + +"You basely misjudge me. Didn't you know I'm going to work?" + +Standish's eyes were round and guileless. "See any sea-serpents on +your way over? I've heard there _are_ such things." + +"Fact, though, I am. And you know it, too. I'm hoping it's here." + +His friend shook his head. "Not here, Henry." + +"No?" + +"No, and I'm sorry. I'd make you clean inkwells and say 'sir,' and +you'd get to be almost as democratic as I am.... Haven't you seen +Archer?" + +"Not yet." + +"Why not?" + +"Oh, just squeamish, I suppose. You sort of hate to think of the--cash +end of it." + +"That's right, too. But as long as you're in the building, you'd +better drop in there. From all the talk there is, you've picked up a +mystery." + +"Mystery? In what way?" + +"Not for me to say. Go find out. And say--you and Anna come and dine +with me tonight, will you? I just want to have you all to myself. +Mind?" + +"Not noticeably." + +"Good. Seven o'clock. Now get out of here and see Archer. Come back +afterwards, if you want to; but do that first." + +As if from pressure of business, he projected Henry into the corridor; +and then, meditatively, he returned to his desk. Young Mr. Standish +had watched his employer very closely, during those last few days, and +in witnessing Mr. Starkweather's will, he had sensed, intuitively, +that it contained a stick of dynamite for Henry. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Archer, who had known Henry since the Fauntleroy days, greeted him +with the proper mixture of repression and cordiality. "But I'm +afraid," owned Mr. Archer, "I'm afraid you're going to be a little +disappointed." + +Henry shook his head. "Then you've sized me up all wrong," he said, +much subdued. "Because no matter what I get, I'm going to be satisfied +that Uncle John wanted me to have it. Besides, I've apparently got to +hump myself, or I don't get anything at all. Aunt Mirabelle gave me +some idea of it--I'd thought it was probably an interest in the +business, but Bob Standish says it isn't." + +"No, it's a building. 361 Main Street. But it's rather more than a +mere building; it _is_ a business. It's leased until next Monday; +after that it's yours to operate. The deed's recorded now. It's yours +outright. Did your aunt tell you what the conditions are?" + +"All or nothing!" + +"Yes. Oh, he made a separate provision for Miss Starkweather; she'll +never go hungry; but the bulk of the estate depends on what you do +with the business in the next year. And strictly between ourselves, +your uncle expected you to finish with a bit to spare." + +"I know this much; if it's anything _he_ doped out for me, it's an +even bet. It's to make ten thousand dollars?" + +"Yes, and without any outside help except straight commercial +loans--if you can get 'em. No favours from anybody, and no free keep +from your families." + +"What building is it, Mr. Archer?" + +The lawyer paused to wipe his glasses. "It's one your uncle took over +on a mortgage last winter.... You see, Henry, he'd figured out what he +was going to do with you, and it would have been this same thing even +if he'd lived. He picked out what he thought would do you the most +good--get you in touch with different people--break down some of your +(excuse me for being blunt) class prejudice--teach you how many dimes +there are in a dollar. And for that reason he expressly stipulated +that you've got to keep your own books. That'll give you more of a +respect for money than anything else would, I guess." + +"Keep my own books?" + +"That's the way Mr. Starkweather began--only in his case, he kept +somebody else's. But I warned you to expect something out of the +ordinary." + +"Oh, yes," said Henry. "I was all set for _some_ kind of a low-brow +job. What is it--a garage?" + +"I'm afraid you'll think a garage is fashionable, compared with it." + +Henry looked serious. "361 Main? I don't seem to--What on earth _is_ +it, Mr. Archer?" + +"Go down and look at it. Only don't be shocked, Henry; because it's +exactly what he'd have given you to do, anyway. And then let me know +what your plans are, will you? By the way--have you any money of your +own?" + +Henry looked pained. "I'm down to a couple of hundred. Why?" + +"Then you'd better not waste any time. Go on down and look it over +this morning, and let me know." + +"Why--let you know _what_?" + +"Whether you're going to take the dare." + +Henry's lips twitched. "Nobody ever beat me by default yet, Mr. +Archer." + +"Just the same, I wish you'd let me know definitely--won't you? Of +course, if you shouldn't feel inclined to go ahead on your uncle's +plan--and that _would_ disappoint me--you could simply sell out. I +hope you won't, though. I hope very much indeed that you won't. +But--go look at it. And one last thing, Henry; your uncle put the +thing in this shape so that too many people wouldn't be gossiping +about it. I mean, if you and your aunt don't tell--nobody will. +That's all--but let me know." + +Obediently, Henry proceeded down Main Street to the 300 block. His +curiosity was active, but he was warning himself to be on guard, for +his uncle's sentences, although invariably fair and invariably +appropriate, were also founded on a solid base of humour and +surprise. Henry remembered what Mr. Starkweather had said about +coming home to eat crow, and what Mr. Archer had said about the +comparative aristocracy of a garage, and he prepared himself for a +thunderstroke, and got a laugh ready. That book-keeping provision was +really clever; Uncle John had palpably framed it up to keep Henry +on the job. But Henry would outwit the provision. A few lessons in +a commercial-school, a modern card-system, and he could handle the +books of any small business in no time at all, as per the magazine +advertisements. Of course, the crow and the garage were merely +symbols; but whatever the business might be, and however distasteful, +there was only a year of it, and after that (so confident was Henry) +there was a lifetime of luxury. He was rather glad that his +penance came first; it would serve to make the enjoyment of his +wealth so much more zestful. He should always feel as though he had +worked for it, instead of having it handed out to him on a platter, +regardless of his personal deserts. Yes, he would work faithfully, +and because the task would be within his capabilities, (for Mr. +Starkweather was sane and practical, and Mr. Archer had prophesied +a finish with something to spare) he would end his probation in a +blaze of glory, and Anna would be proud of him, Judge Barklay would +approve of him, and Aunt Mirabelle would have to revise her estimate +of him. Altogether, it was a fine arrangement, provided that his +business, whatever it was, wouldn't entirely prevent him from +keeping up with the procession, socially, and playing enough golf to +hold his present form. + +He had passed 331 and 341 and 351 and his heart began to beat more +rapidly. This was almost as exciting as a Christmas stocking in the +Fauntleroy days. His eyes were searching among the numbers; there was +a four-story office building (335) and an automobile agency (339) ... +and next to that--.... Henry halted, and the laugh dried up in his +throat. He had been prepared for anything but the reality. The ark of +his fortunes was a shabby little motion-picture theatre. + +Gasping, he looked up again at the number, and when he realized that +he had made no mistake, his knees turned to gelatine, and he stood +staring, fascinated, numbed. His eyes wandered blankly from the +crumbling ticket-booth to the unkempt lobby and back to the lurid +billing--the current attraction was a seven-reel thriller entitled +"What He Least Expected," but Henry missed the parallel. With +trembling fingers he produced a cigarette, but in his daze he blew out +two matches in succession. He crushed the cigarette in his palm, and +moved a few steps towards the lobby. Great Heaven, was it possible +that John Starkweather had condemned Henry the fashionable, Henry the +clubable, Henry the exclusive to a year of _this_? Was _this_ his +punishment for the past? Was _this_ the price of his future? This +picayune sordidness, and vulgarity and decay? Evidently, it was so +intended, and so ordered. + +His power of reason was almost atrophied. He struggled to understand +his uncle's purpose; his uncle's logic. To break down his class +prejudice, and teach him the dimes in a dollar, and put him on the +level of a workingman? All that could have been accomplished by far +less drastic methods. It could have been accomplished by a tour of +duty with Bob. To be sure, Mr. Starkweather had promised him the +meanest job in the directory, but Henry had put it down as a figure of +speech. Now, he was faced with the literal interpretation of it, and +ahead of him there was a year of trial, and then all or nothing. + +He succeeded in lighting a fresh cigarette, but he couldn't taste it. +Previously he had paid his forfeits with the best of good-nature, but +his previous forfeits hadn't obliged him to declass himself. They +hadn't involved his wife. He hadn't married Anna to drag her down to +this. It would stand them in a social pillory, targets for those who +had either admired them or envied them. It would make them the most +conspicuous pair in the whole community: older people would point to +them as an illustration of justice visited on blind youth, and would +chuckle to observe Henry in the process of receiving his come-uppance: +the younger set would quake with merriment and poor jokes and sly +allusions to Henry's ancient grandeur. Even Bob Standish would have to +hide his amusement; why, Bob himself had made society and success his +fetiches. And Anna--Anna who was so ambitious for him--how could _she_ +endure the status of a cheap showman's wife? + +And even if she had been willing to ally himself with such a +business, how could he conceivably make ten thousand dollars out of +it in a single year? Ten? It would take a genius to make five. An +inexperienced man, with luck, might make two or three. He couldn't +afford to hire a trained man to manage it for him: the place was too +small to support such a man, and still to net any appreciable +profit. Mr. Starkweather had undoubtedly foreseen this very +fact--foreseen that Henry couldn't sit back as a magnate, and pile +responsibility on a paid employé. To reach his quota, Henry would +have to get in all over, and act as his own manager, and take the +resulting publicity and the social isolation. But the business was +impossible, the quota was impossible, the entire project from first +to last was unthinkable. His uncle, whether by accident or design, +had virtually disowned him. There was no other answer. + +His laugh came back to him, but there was no hilarity in it. It was +merely an expression of his helplessness; it was tragedy turned inside +out. Yet he felt no resentment towards his uncle, but rather an +overwhelming pity. He felt no resentment towards his friend Standish, +who had bought out the perfectly respectable business which Mr. +Starkweather might so easily have left to Henry. Mr. Starkweather had +schemed to bring about a certain reaction, and he had overplayed his +hand. Instead of firing Henry with a new ardour for success, he had +convinced him of the futility of endeavour. He had set a standard so +high, and chosen a medium so low, that he had defeated his own +object. + +The next step--why, it was to chart his life all over again. It was to +dispose of this ridiculous property, and begin to make a living for +Anna. And there was no time to lose, either, for Henry's checking +balance was about to slide past the vanishing point. + +He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to meet the gravely +sympathetic eyes of Mr. Theodore Mix. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Mix was fresh from an interview with Miss Mirabelle Starkweather. +Her acquaintance with him was slight, but from a distance she had +always esteemed him, partly for his mature good-looks, and partly for +the distinguished manner which had always been a large fraction of his +stock-in-trade, and was now to be listed among his principal assets. +Her esteem, however, applied to him merely as an individual, and not +as a debtor. + +"I wanted to see you about a note," she said, primly. "A five thousand +dollar demand note you gave my brother four months ago. He endorsed +it over to me, and I wanted to see you about it." + +Mr. Mix allowed his mouth to widen in a smile which was disarmingly +benevolent. The horse at Bowie had proved dark indeed,--so dark that +it had still been merged with the background when the winner passed +the judge's stand--and this colour-test had cost Mr. Mix precisely two +thousand dollars. Beyond that, he had paid off a few of his most +pressing creditors, and he had spent a peculiarly carefree week in New +York (where he had also taken a trifling flyer in cotton, and made a +disastrous forced landing) so that there was practically nothing but +his smile between himself and bankruptcy. Yet Mr. Mix beamed, with +almost ecclesiastical poise, upon the holder of his demand note, and +tried her with honey. + +"Ordinarily, I'm embarrassed to talk business with a woman," said Mr. +Mix. "I'm so conscious of the--what shall I say?--of a woman's +disadvantage in a business interview. But in your case, Miss +Starkweather, when your executive ability is so well known and so +universally praised--" + +She nodded, and took it without discount, but she wasn't distracted +from her purpose. "I hope it's convenient for you to pay it, Mr. +Mix." + +"If it weren't convenient," said Mr. Mix, soothingly, "I should _make_ +it convenient. When the sister of my oldest friend--a man who once sat +at the same desk with me, when we were young clerks together--when his +sister is in need of funds, I--" + +"'T isn't that," she said, quickly. "I want this money for some +special reason." + +He inclined his head slightly. "One of your favourite charities, I +have no doubt. But whatever the reason, the obligation is the same. +Now, let's see--I'll have to sell some securities--when must you have +it?" + +"Next Tuesday." + +Inwardly, Mr. Mix was startled, but outwardly he looked grieved. +"Tuesday? Now--that _is_--wait a minute." He created the impression +that he was juggling vast affairs, in order to gratify a whim of his +old friend's sister. As a matter of fact, he was wondering what +plausible excuse he could give without revealing any hint of the +truth. "Is Tuesday imperative?" + +"Tuesday by ten o'clock in the morning." + +His face cleared, "You've shared a secret with me," said Mr. Mix, and +although he spoke aloud, his attitude was as though he were +whispering. "Because I happen to know that every Tuesday at ten +o'clock there's a meeting of a--a certain organization of which you're +the illustrious president. Needless to say, I refer to the Ethical +Reform League." He lowered his voice. "I ask your pardon for the +intrusion of anything of such a delicately personal nature, Miss +Starkweather, but I _must_ tell you that when a person, such as +yourself, even in the midst of inconsolable sorrow, can't forget that +great principles and great institutions can never perish, but are +immortal, and go on forever--that's true nobility of character, Miss +Starkweather, and I honour you for it." + +She touched her eyes with her handkerchief. "Thank you, Mr. Mix. Yes, +I intend to make a contribution to our League--in memory of my +brother. You're--familiar with our League?" + +He gestured effectively. "Familiar with it? You might as well ask me +if I'm familiar with the Emancipation Proclamation--the Magna Charta." +And this was accurate; his knowledge of all three was based on hearsay +evidence. + +"And are you at all in sympathy with it?" + +"My dear lady! I was one of the pioneer supporters of suffrage in this +region. I--" + +"Yes, I know that, and I know your work in the Associated Charities, +and in your church, but--how did you vote on prohibition?" + +He side-stepped with great agility. "How would any man of my calibre +vote?" + +"True, true." She was becoming animated. + +"But we've tremendous problems yet to solve.... Do you believe in +enforcing the laws, Mr. Mix? The Sunday laws especially?" + +Mr. Mix picked up his cue, and gave thanks for the diversion. "Dear +lady, I am a citizen. As a citizen, I help to _make_ the laws; they're +made by all of us for our own good. Show me a man who _doesn't_ +believe in enforcing the laws, and I won't argue with him--I couldn't +count on his sincerity." + +"It's a pleasure to talk to a man like you," she said. "I wonder if +you agree with our other ideals. Er--what do you think about +dancing?" + +He had a good phrase which he had been saving up for six weeks. +"Dancing," he said, "is popular because it's so conspicuously +innocent, and so warmly satisfactory to the guilty." + +"Good! _Good!_ How about tobacco?" + +This, too, he side-stepped. "It's a poison, so the doctors say. Who am +I to put any opinion against theirs?" + +She was regarding him earnestly, and a little perplexedly. + +"How is it, when in spirit you're one of us, you've never joined the +League?" + +"I-I've never been invited," said Mr. Mix, somewhat taken aback. + +"Then _I_ invite you," she said, promptly. "And I know you'll accept. +It's men like you we need--men with some backbone; prominent, useful +citizens. You sit right there. I've got an application blank in my +desk. Read it over when you get home, and sign it and mail it to me." + +"I appreciate the distinction of your asking me," said Mr. Mix, with +supreme deference. "And if you have time, I wish you'd tell me what +your aims are. I am very deeply interested." + +He stayed another half hour, and the conversation never swerved from +the entertaining subject of reform. Mr. Mix was insufferably bored, +and cumulatively restless, but he was convinced that he was making +headway, so that he kept his mind relentlessly on the topic, and +dispensed honey by the shovelful. When he prepared to leave, he tested +out his conviction, and reminded her gently: "Now, in regard to that +note--" + +Mirabelle was blinded by her own visionings, and deafened by her own +eloquence. "Well, we'll have to take that up again--But you come to +the meeting Tuesday, anyhow. And here's one of our pamphlets for you +to look at in the meantime." + +As he went down the steps, she was watching him, from the ambush of +lace window-curtains, and she was saying to herself: "Such a nice +man--so influential, too.... Now if I could get _him_ persuaded +over--" + +Mr. Mix, strolling nonchalantly downtown, was also talking to himself, +and his conclusions would have astonished her. "What I've got to do," +said Mr. Mix, thoughtfully, "is to string the old dame along until I +can raise five thousand bucks. But where's it coming from?" + +Then, squarely in front of the Orpheum Theatre, he met Henry +Devereux. + + * * * * * + +"Good-morning, Henry," said Mr. Mix, soberly. "First time I've had a +chance to speak to you since...." He coughed discreetly. "I don't +believe I need to say that if there's anything I can do for you at any +time, all you've got to do is to say so." + +Privately, Henry had always considered Mr. Mix as a genial poseur, but +he knew that Mr. Mix belonged to the Citizens Club, which was the +local standard, and that for thirty years he had been on rather +intimate business relations with Mr. Starkweather. This was sufficient +recommendation for Henry, in the swirl of his agitation, to loose his +tongue. + +"All right," he said. "Tell me how soon I can sell this overgrown +magic-lantern outfit--and what I can get for it--and where I can put +the money to bring in the biggest income--and where I can get a good +job." + +Now all this was intended to be purely in the nature of a rhetorical +question: for naturally, if Henry decided to sell, he would want Bob +Standish to handle the transaction for him, and to get the commission: +and also, if Henry had to find employment, he would go to his friend, +and be sure of a cordial reception. But Mr. Mix took it literally. + +Mr. Mix started, and his memory began to unfold. It was on the tip of +his tongue to blurt out: "And lose your shot at the estate?" but he +restrained himself. He wasn't supposed to know the circumstances, and +as a matter of fact, as he realized with a thrill of relish, he was +probably the only outsider who _did_ know the circumstances. "Why," +said Mr. Mix. "Do you own the Orpheum? Well, I should say offhand it's +worth a good deal. Twenty thousand. The land, you know: the building's +no good." + +Henry nodded impatiently. "Yes, but who'd buy it?" + +"Well, now, about _that_--of course, I'm not a real estate man--but +you could certainly _trade_ it." + +"What for?" + +Mr. Mix caught the note of sincerity in Henry's voice, and Mr. Mix +thought rapidly. He appeared to deliberate, to waver, to burn his +bridges. "Well--say for a third interest in Theodore Mix and +Company." + +Henry stared. "Are you serious?" + +Mr. Mix almost fell over backwards. "Why, yes. It's sudden, but ... +why, yes. I could use more capital, and I want a crack salesman. I'll +trade--if you're quick on the trigger. I've got two or three people +interested so far, but when it's _you_--" + +Henry took him by the arm. "Come on over to the Citizens Club, then, +and we'll talk about it." + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +When Henry went home to his wife and his father-in-law, he was +confident that he had a very fine bargain; when he told them what he +had heard from his aunt and Mr. Archer, what he had seen with his own +eyes, and what he had done with Mr. Mix, he expected first, sympathy, +and afterwards, unqualified approval. Within the next five minutes, +however, Henry was sitting limp and baffled; and wishing that he had +Bob Standish to support him. Bob, at least, would understand. + +"Holy Smoke!" he said, weakly. "_I_ didn't suppose you'd take it like +that! Why, I--I feel as if I'd been run over by a steam-roller with +Taft at the wheel!" + +Judge Barklay had long since forgiven his daughter, but he hadn't +quite forgiven Henry. "Do you want my honest opinion? I should say +you're suffering from two extreme causes--exaggerated ego and cold +feet." + +Henry flushed. He had the most profound respect for Judge Barklay--a +man who had preferred to be a city magistrate, and to be known +throughout the whole state for his wisdom and humanity, instead of +keeping up his law practice, at five times the income--and Henry, like +every one else, valued the Judge's opinions. "You don't mean you think +I'd _run_ the miserable little peanut-stand, do you? And keep books on +it as if it had been the Federal Reserve Bank?" + +"It strikes me," said the Judge, "that both of us would rather have +you run a peanut-stand than--I'm using your own analogy--than spend +your whole life eating peanuts. Why, Henry, your uncle _wanted_ you to +be shocked--wanted you to be mad enough to stand up on your hind legs +and fight." + +Henry looked at his wife. "What are _you_ going to suggest? Hire a +snake-charmer and a wild-man-from-Borneo and an infant pachyderm and a +royal ring-tailed gyasticutus, and pull off a side-show after the main +tent's closed?" + +"Oh, _Henry_! Can't you _see_ what a lark it would be?" + +"Lark?" he repeated, hazily. "Lark? You've got the wrong bird. It's +crow." + +"No, but Henry dear, you aren't going to be a quitter, are you?" + +"Wife of my bosom, do you realize what you're talking about? It would +cost a thousand dollars just to make the place _clean_. It'll cost +three or four more to make it attractive enough to get anybody inside +of it. And I haven't got the price." + +"What's the matter with a mortgage?" demanded the Judge. "And you've +got a car, haven't you? You've got a saddle-horse. You've got all +kinds of junk you can turn into money." + +"On a wild gamble? Why, Anna, we couldn't stay on here with the +Judge--that would be getting help I'm not allowed to have--we'd have +to go live in some cheap apartment; we couldn't even have a maid for +awhile; we couldn't entertain anybody; we couldn't have any outside +pleasures; I'd have to work like a dog; you _know_ what the crowd on +the hill would say--and then I'm beaten before I start anyway. +Quitter! You wouldn't call a man a quitter if he stayed out of a +hurdle race because he'd broken a leg, would you?" + +"Well," said Anna, "I'm willing to live in such a cheap apartment that +the landlord calls it a _flat_. And you can't get any servants these +days; there _aren't_ any. And who cares about entertaining? And for +outside pleasures, why couldn't we go to the Orpheum?" They all +laughed, but Anna was the first to stop. "I'll work just as hard as +you will, Henry. I'll peel potatoes and wash the sink--" She glanced, +ruefully, at her hands--"and if it'll help you, I--I'd sell tickets or +be an usher or play the piano. Why, Henry, it would be a _circus_--and +we wouldn't need any snake-charmers, either." + +"_And_ an education," said Judge Barklay. + +"And a gold-mine for us--in just one little year. We could do it; I +_know_ we could." + +"And if the stupid fool who's had it this last year could make money +out of it," added the Judge, "and you used any intelligence on it, +you'd come out ahead. John made up his figures very carefully. That's +the kind of man he was." + +Henry stared at them alternately. "But if I _did_ fall down--" + +"Henry!" The Judge was using a professional gesture. "What do you +suppose your time is worth, at its present market value? Don't you +think you can afford to risk a year of it against half a million +dollars?" + +"But when I've practically closed with Mix--" + +"Sign any agreement?" + +"No, he's having one typed." + +The judge breathed in relief. "You're lucky. You'd lose money if you +took a third interest for a gift, and if you took _all_ of it as a +gift you'd lose three times as much. Because you'd have to assume your +share of his liabilities. People think he's got money, but he hasn't; +he's broke. He must have picked you for a life preserver." + +Henry's jaw dropped. "What makes you think so?" + +"I don't think so; I _know_ so. Oh, he's pretty shifty on his feet, +and he's got a good many people hoodwinked--your uncle always gave +him too much credit, incidentally--but his New York correspondents +happened to be clients of mine when I was practising law, and they've +both asked me about him and told me about him, inside of the last six +weeks." + +Henry sat unblinking "Is that--a fact!" + +"And if you wanted to sell out," continued the Judge, with a trifle of +asperity, "why on earth didn't you go to Bob Standish? Why didn't you +go to an expert? And why didn't you have an audit made of Mix's +company--why didn't you get a little information--why didn't you know +what you were buying? Oh, it isn't too late, if you haven't signed +anything, but--Henry, it looks to me as if you need a guardian!" + +At the sight of his face, Anna went over to him, and perched on the +arm of his chair. "That's enough, Dad.... _I_'m his guardian; aren't +I, dear? And he's just upset and dizzy and I don't blame him a bit. We +won't say another word about it; we've told him what we think; and +tonight he can have a long talk with Bob. You'd want to do that, +wouldn't you, Henry? Of course you would. You wish you'd done it +before. You're feeling awfully ashamed of yourself for being so hasty. +_And_ snobbish. I know you." + +Henry looked across at the Judge. "Might as well have my brains where +my hair is, mightn't I? She sees it just as easy.... All right; we'll +let the whole thing ride 'till I've seen Bob." + +His friend Standish, gazing with childlike solemnity out of his big +blue eyes, listened to both sides of the story, and to Henry's +miscalculation, at no time during the recital did he laugh uproariously, +or exclaim compassionately, or indicate that he shared any of Henry's +conclusions: + +"Oh, yes," he said, "people might giggle a bit. But they always giggle +at a man's first shot at business, anyway. Like his first pair of long +trousers. It's done. But how many times will they do it? A thousand? +Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? At maybe seven dollars a giggle? For +less than that, I'd be a comedian. I'd be a contortionist. I'd be a +pie-thrower. Henry, old rubbish, you do what they tell you to." + +"Would you do it if you were in my place?" + +"Would I lie down like a yellow dog, and let people say I hadn't sand +enough to stop a wristwatch?" + +"I know, but Bob--the Orpheum!" + +"I know, but Henry--don't you sort of owe it to Mr. Starkweather? You +wouldn't have put on this milk-fed expression if he'd soaked it to you +himself, would you?" + +At this precise instant, Henry was required on the telephone. It was +his Aunt Mirabelle; and even if he had been dining with royalty, she +would still have called him--if she could have got the address. + +"Henry," she said acidly. "I've just found out what kind of a building +it was your uncle deeded you. Theodore Mix told me. _I_ didn't know +your uncle was ever messed up in that kind of a thing. He never told +me. Good reason he didn't, too. I certainly hope you aren't going to +spread this news around town, Henry--it's scandalous enough to have it +in the family, even. Of all the hellish influences we've got to +contend with in this day and generation--" + +"Well," said Henry, "it isn't any of it _my_ fault, is it?" + +"That remains to be seen. Are you going to _run_ that--dive?" + +"Why--I don't know. If I didn't--" + +"Oh, yes, you're probably thinking how selfish I am. You wouldn't +recognize a pure motive if you met one in the street. But to think of +a Devereux--almost the same thing as a Starkweather--" + +"What's your idea? To have me be a jolly little martyr?" + +"There's this much to say, Henry--at least I'd put John's money to a +nobler use than you ever would." + +Henry grimaced. "Your League?" + +"Yes, what else?" + +He was an impulsive young man, and sometimes he made up his mind by +contraries. "I wouldn't count too much on it," he said cheerfully. "I +might astonish you." + +"You--Henry Devereux! Am I going to see my own sister's son in a +polluted enterprise like--" + +"You're going to see your own grandfather's great-grandson make P. T. +Barnum look a Kickapoo medicine man--if necessary," said Henry. "Only +don't you worry about any pollution. That's where I draw the line. I'm +not going to stage one single pollute." + +"You _are_ going to operate that place?" + +"Why certainly," said Henry. "And speaking of operations, I've got a +hunch the patient's going to recover. I've just been holding a +clinic.... Well--good-bye, Aunt Mirabelle." He turned back to his wife +and his friend Standish. "So _that's_ settled," said Henry, and +grinned, a trifle apprehensively. "We're off in a cloud of dust.... +Waiter, where's those two portions of crow I ordered four months ago? +The service in this place is getting something rotten." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Mr. Theodore Mix, sprawled in his desk chair, gazed with funereal +gloom at the typewritten agreement which lay before him, unsigned. It +was barely twenty minutes ago that Mr. Mix had risen to welcome the +man who was to save his credit and his reputation; but during those +twenty minutes Mr. Mix, who had felt that he was sitting on top of the +world, had been unceremoniously shot off into space. + +His creditors surrounded him, (and because they were small creditors +they were inclined to be nasty), he owed money to his New York +correspondents, whose letters were becoming peremptory, and his +brokerage business was pounding against the rocks. Quietly, overnight +he had located a purchaser for the Orpheum, and as soon as Henry's +name had been safe on the dotted line, Mr. Mix would have been +financed for many months ahead. And then came Henry--and Henry, who +had been cast for the part of the lamb, had suddenly become as +obstinate as a donkey. Mr. Mix, gazing at that agreement, was swept by +impotent rage at Henry, and he took the document and ripped it +savagely across and across, and crumpled it in both his hands, and +jammed it into his scrap-basket. + +For the moment, he subordinated his personal problems to his wrath at +Henry. He charged Henry with full responsibility for this present +crisis; for if Henry had simply scribbled his signature, Mr. Mix would +have made a good deal of money. It never occurred to him that in the +same transaction, Henry would have changed places with Mr. Mix. That +was Henry's look-out. And damn him, he had _looked_! + +"I'm going to get him for that," said Mr. Mix, half-aloud. "I'm going +to get him, and get him good. Jockeying me into a pocket! Conceited +young ass! And I'd have been square with the world, and paid off that +infernal note, and had _four ... thousand ... dollars_ left over." His +lips made a straight line. "And he'd have brought fifty thousand +dollars' worth of business into this office--he'd have _had_ to--he'd +have had to hold up his friends--to protect his ante. Yes, sir, I'm +going to get him _good_." + +Mr. Mix sat up, and emitted a short, mirthless laugh. He frowned +thoughtfully: and then, after a little search, he examined the +pamphlet which Mirabelle had given him, and skimmed through the pages +until he came to the paragraph he had in mind. Enforcement of the +Sunday ordinances ... hm!... present ordinance seems to prohibit +Sunday theatrical performances of all kinds, but city administrations +have always been lax. Want the law on the books, don't dare to repeal +it, but don't care to enforce it. + +Mr. Mix sat back and pondered. He knew enough about the motion-picture +business to realize that the Sunday performances made up the backbone +of the week. He knew enough about the Orpheum to know that Henry's +quota, which under normal conditions would require only diligence, and +initiative, and originality to reach, would be literally impossible if +Sundays were taken from the schedule. The League's blue-law campaign, +if it proved successful, would make Henry Devereux even bluer than Mr. +Mix. "Three rousing cheers for reform!" said Mr. Mix, and grinned at +the pamphlet. + +Another brilliant thought infected him. He had long since passed the +stage in which women were a mystery to him: he had long since realized +that unless a man's passions intervene, there is nothing more +mysterious about women than about men. It was all humbug--all this +mummery about intuitions and unerring perception and inscrutability. +Women are all alike--all human--all susceptible to sheer, blatant +flattery. The only difference in women is in the particular brand of +flattery to which, as individuals, they react. + +Take Miss Starkweather: he had seen that if he fed her vanity +unsparingly--not her physical vanity, but her pride in her own soul, +and in her League presidency--she blazed up into a flame which +consumed even her purpose in causing the interview. Once already, by +no remarkable effort, he had been able to divert her attention; and it +was now imperative for him to keep it diverted until he had raised +five thousand dollars. And if she were so susceptible, why shouldn't +Mr. Mix venture a trifle further? He knew that she regarded him as an +important man; why shouldn't he let himself be won over, slowly and by +her influence alone, to higher things? Stopping, of course, just short +of actually becoming a League partisan? Why shouldn't he feed her fat +with ethics and adulation, until she were more anxious for his +cooperation than for his money? If he couldn't play hide-and-seek for +six months,--if he couldn't turn her head so far that she couldn't +bear to press him for payment--he wasn't the strategist he believed +himself to be. But in the meantime, where was he to get the money to +live on? Still, Mirabelle came first. + +On Sunday, he fortified himself from his meagre supply of contraband, +ate two large cloves, and went formally to call on her. He remained an +hour, and by exercise of the most finished diplomacy, he succeeded in +building up the situation exactly as he had planned it. The note +hadn't been mentioned; the League hadn't been given a breathing-space; +and Mirabelle was pleading with him to see the light, and join the +crusade. Finally, she leaned forward and put her hand on his arm. + +"Two weeks ago," she said, "I told the League I was going to give it a +real surprise this next Tuesday. What I meant was money. The money for +that note. But I'd hate to have you sell any securities when they're +down so low. And besides, _any_body can give money--just money. What +we need most is men. Let me do something different. You're one of the +big men here. You count for a good deal. We want you. I said I'd give +'em a surprise--let me make the League a present of _you_." She +bestowed upon him a smile which was a startling combination of +sharpness and appeal. "I'm certainly going to keep my promise, Mr. +Mix. I'm going to give 'em one or the other--you or the five thousand. +Only I tell you in all sincerity, I'd rather it would be you." + +Mr. Mix sat up with a jerk. The climax had been reached six months too +soon. "Dear lady--" + +"You can't refuse," she went on with an emphasis which sobered him. +"We want you for an officer, and a director. I've taken it up with +the committee. And you _can't_ refuse. You believe everything we +believe. Mr. Mix, look me in the eye, and tell me--if you're true to +yourself, how _can_ you refuse?" + +"That isn't it," he said, truthfully enough. "I--I wouldn't be as +valuable to you as you think." + +"We'll judge of that." + +He knew that he was in a corner, and he hunted desperately for an +opening. "And--in _any_ event, I couldn't become an officer, or even a +director. I--" + +"Why not, pray?" + +"I haven't the time, for one thing, nor the experience in--" + +She swept away his objections with a stiff gesture. "You're modest, +and it's becoming. But either you're with us or against us: there's no +half-way about morals. If you're with us, you ought to show your +colours. And if you _are_ with us, you'll lead us, because you're a +born leader. You inspire. You instill. And for the sake of the common +welfare--" She paused: he was staring at her as if hypnotized. "For +the sake of the city and the state and the nation--" His eyes were +wide, and filled with a light which deceived her. "For the sake of +civic honour and decency and self-respect--" + +Mr. Mix cleared his throat. "Yes, but--" + +Again, she leaned out and touched his arm. "For _my_ sake?" + +Mr. Mix recoiled slightly. "For _your_ sake!" he muttered. + +"Yes, for mine. The sister of your oldest friend." + +He owed her five thousand dollars, and if she demanded payment, he was +a bankrupt. "Why does it mean so much to you?" he asked, sparring for +time. + +"It would be an epoch in the history of the League, Mr. Mix." + +"You spoke about leadership. No one can hope to replace yourself." + +"Thank you--I know you mean it. But _no_ woman can lead a campaign +such as the one we're just starting. It takes a strong, dominant man +who knows politics. Of course, when we go after dancing and cards and +dress-reform, I guess I can do all right, but in _this_ campaign--" + +"What campaign is this, Miss Starkweather?" + +"Sunday enforcement." + +Mr. Mix pursed his lips. "Really?" + +She nodded. "We're going to concentrate on one thing at a time. That's +first." + +"Close all the theatres and everything?" + +"Tight!" she said, and the word was like the lash of a whip. "Tight as +a drum." + +Mr. Mix controlled himself rigidly. "You'll have to pardon my seeming +indelicacy, but--" He coughed behind his hand. "That might bring about +a very unhappy relationship between my family and yours. Had you +thought of it?" + +"Henry? Humph! Yes. I'm sorry, but I don't propose to let my family or +anybody else's stand in the way of my principles. Do _you_? No. If +Henry stands in the way, he's going to get run over. Mark my words." + +His expression was wooden, but it concealed a thought which had +flashed up, spontaneously, to dazzle him. In spite of his age and +experience, Mr. Mix threatened to blush. The downfall of Henry meant +the elevation of Mirabelle. Mr. Mix himself could assist in swinging +the balance. And he couldn't quite destroy a picture of Mirabelle, +walking down the aisle out of step to the wedding march. Her arms were +loaded with exotic flowers, of which each petal was a crisp yellow +bank-bill. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to snort in deprecation, and +he did neither. He was too busy with the consciousness that at last he +was in a position to capitalize his information. He knew what nobody +else did, outside of Henry and his wife, Mirabelle, Mr. Archer and +probably Judge Barklay and if he flung himself into the League's +campaign, what might he now accomplish? + +He looked at Mirabelle. Her eyes betrayed her admiration. Mr. Mix drew +a very long breath, and in the space of ten seconds thought ahead for +a year. The League was ridiculously radical, but if Mr. Mix were +appointed to direct it, he was confident that he could keep Mirabelle +contented, without making himself too much of a ludicrous figure. All +it needed was tact, and foresight. "If I could only spare the time to +help you--but you see, this is my dull season--I have to work twice as +hard as usual to make an honest dollar--" + +"Would you accept an honorarium?" + +"Beg pardon?" + +"If you took charge of the drive, would you accept a salary? And give +us most of your time? Say, four days a week?" + +Once more, his thoughts raced through the year. "Now," he said, +presently, "you _are_ making it hard for me to refuse." + +"Only that? Haven't I made it impossible?" + +To Mr. Mix, her tone was almost more of a challenge than an +invitation. He looked at her again; and at last he nodded. "I +think--you have." + +She held out her hand. "I've always respected you as a man. Now I +greet you as a comrade. We'll make this city a place where a +pure-minded man or woman won't be ashamed to live. I tell you, I won't +be satisfied until we reach the _ideal_! And prohibition was only one +tiny move in advance, and we've miles to go. I'm glad we're going the +rest of the way together. And it wouldn't surprise me in the least if +you came out of it Mayor. That's _my_ idea." + +Mr. Mix, with the faint aroma of cloves in his nostrils, backed away. + +"Oh, no, I don't dream of _that_ ..." he said. "But I feel as if I'd +taken one of the most significant steps of my whole life. I--I think +I'd better say good afternoon, Miss Starkweather. I want to be +alone--and meditate. You understand?" + +"Like Galahad," she murmured. + +Mr. Mix looked puzzled; he thought she had a cold. But he said no +more; he went home to his bachelor apartment, and after he had helped +himself to three full fingers of meditation, together with a little +seltzer, he smiled faintly, and told himself that there was no use in +debating the point--a man with brains is predestined to make progress. +But he couldn't help reflecting that now, more than ever, if any echo +of his New York escapades, or any rumour of his guarded habits got to +Mirabelle's ears--or, for that matter, to anybody's ears at all--his +dreams would float away in vapour. Perhaps it would be wise to +explain to Mirabelle that he had once been a sinner. She would +probably forgive him, and appreciate him all the more. Women do.... It +was curious that she had mentioned him as a possible Mayor. It had +been his dearest ambition. He wondered if, with his present +reputation, and then with the League behind him, there were a ghost of +a chance.... + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +There was probably no power on the face of the earth which could +have driven Henry Devereux to the operation of a picture theatre, +strictly as a business venture; but when he once got it into his +head that the Orpheum wasn't so much a business as a sporting +proposition, he couldn't have been stopped by anything short of an +injunction. Immediately, his attitude was normal, and from the +moment that he resolved to take possession of his property, and +operate it, he was indifferent to the public estimate of him. The +thing was a game, a game with a great stake, and set rules, and +Henry took it as he once had taken his golf and his billiards and +his polo--joyously, resiliently, determinedly, and without the +slightest self-consciousness, and with never an eye for the gallery. + +He was inspirited, moreover, by the attitude of his friends. To be +sure, they laughed, but in their laughter there was no trace of the +ridicule he had feared. They took the situation as a very good joke on +Henry, but at the same time, because gossip had already begun to build +up a theory to explain that situation, there were several of them who +wished that a similar joke, with a similar nubbin, might be played on +themselves. They told this to Henry, they urged him to go ahead and +become a strictly moral Wallingford, they slapped him on the back and +assured him that if there was justice in the Sunday-school books, he +was certain to finish in the money; and Henry, who had provided +himself with several air-tight alibis, found them dead stock on his +hands. He had known, of course, that he could count on Bob Standish, +and a few of his other intimates, but the hearty fellowship of the +whole circle overwhelmed him. He knew that even when they waxed +facetious, they were rooting for him; and this knowledge multiplied +his confidence, and gave him fresh courage. + +And yet, with all the consciousness of his loyal backing, he was +considerably upset to read in the _Herald_, on the very morning that +he took control of his property, a seven column streamer headline +which leaped out to threaten him. + + "SUNDAY THEATRES AND AMUSEMENTS + MUST GO!"--MIX + + Prominent Business Man Turns Reformer + + THEODORE MIX CHOSEN TO MANAGE + CAMPAIGN OF LEAGUE + + Pledges Enforcement of City Ordinances to the Letter + +His first reaction was one of bewilderment, and after that, one of +consternation. His friend Bob Standish tried to laugh it off for him, +but Henry hadn't a smile in his system. + +"All right, then," said Bob Standish. "Go see the judge. He'll tell +you the same thing. Mix's nothing but a bag of wind. He's an old +blowhard." + +"Maybe he is," conceded Henry, soberly. "But I'd be just as satisfied +about it if he blew in some other direction." + +Henry took the paper to Judge Barklay, who had already seen it, and +made his own deductions. "Oh, no," he said, "I'm not astonished. When +a man's in hot enough water, he'll cut up almost any kind of caper to +get out. There's only two kinds of people who ever go into these +radical movements--great successes and great failures. Never any +_average_ folks. I'd say it's a pretty good refuge for him, and you +drove him to it." + +"Well--does he mean what he says there?" + +"Not too much of it. How could he? If he does half he says he will, +he'll lose his job. The town would be as pure as Utopia, and there +wouldn't be any League." + +"How about the ordinance he quotes, though?" + +"Oh, _that_ ... it's Ordinance 147. It's so old it's toothless. The +City Council doesn't quite dare to repeal it--nobody's sure enough, +these days, to get up and take a chance--but they don't want it +enforced, and they haven't for ages." + +Henry frowned. "That's all right. But suppose they did arrest somebody +under that Ordinance? What would you do?" + +"Fine 'em, of course. I'd have to. But I've never had such a case that +I can remember. There haven't been any arrests. It's an understood +thing." + +"Yes, that's fine--as long as everybody understands it the same way. +But maybe Mix doesn't--or Aunt Mirabelle either." + +"Oh, I shouldn't worry much." + +Henry continued serious. "Oh, I guess I can sleep nights all right +without any paregoric, but what right have _they_ got to butt into the +only day of recreation the working people have? If their immortal +souls hurt 'em as much as all that, why don't they go off and suffer +where they can do it in peace and not bother _us_?" + +The Judge laughed quietly. "Whence all this sudden affection for the +working man, Henry?" + +Henry reddened. "Strictly between the two of us, I don't like the idea +of Sunday business, anyway. But unfortunately, that's the big day.... +But, if _you_ had to work indoors, eight hours a day, six days a week, +maybe you'd be satisfied to spend Sundays picking sweet violets out by +the barge canal, but what would you do when it rained?" + +"Of course," admitted the Judge, "it's a poor policy to have a law on +the books, and ignore it. Both of us must admit that. A good law ought +to be kept; a bad one ought to be repealed; but any law that _is_ +valid oughtn't to be winked at. And if pressure _should_ be brought on +the Mayor to enforce that ordinance, and any arrests are made, why +I'll have to do my duty." + +"Yes--and here I'm raising a mortgage and spending the money on +improvements that'll hold us up for more than two weeks--and here Anna +and I are going to live in a couple of box-stalls (every time you take +a long breath in that flat you create a vacuum!)--and here I've been +going to the City Commercial School every afternoon for two solid +hours, and studying like a dog every night--and here I've resigned +from the Golf Club, and everything else but the Citizens--and if they +_do_ put the kibosh on Sunday shows, why I'll be elected to the +Hohenzollern Club. And the cream of _that_ joke is that Aunt +Mirabelle's outfit'd get itself endowed for putting me out of +commission!" + +"They won't do it, Henry. These organizations always make the same +mistake. They go too far. They aren't talking reform; they're talking +revolution, and people won't stand for it. These reform crowds always +start out to be a band-wagon, and if they kept their senses, they +could do some real good--and then they march so fast that pretty soon +they find they've winded everybody else, and there isn't any parade. +All they need is rope. Give 'em enough of it, and they always hang +themselves. That speech of Mix's has done more harm to the League than +it has good. You go right ahead with your improvements." + +In view of the Judge's official position, this was in the nature of an +opinion from headquarters; and yet Henry delayed for a day or two +before he signed his contract for the alterations. In the meantime, he +saw Mr. Archer and got an interpretation of the will; Mr. Archer was +sorry, but if Sundays were ruled out, there was no provision for +reducing the quota, and Henry would have to stand or fall on the exact +phraseology. He had another session with the Judge, and three a day +with Anna, and one with the largest exhibitor in town (who +pooh-poohed the League, and offered to back up his pooh-poohs with a +cash bet that nothing would ever come of it) and eventually he was +persuaded to execute the contract. + +Through Bob Standish, he negotiated a mortgage which would cover the +cost of the work, and leave a comfortable balance. "We're not going to +be as poor as I thought we were," he said cheerfully to Anna who had +put in two hectic weeks on the apartment she had chosen because it was +the cheapest in the market. "We've got something in the bank for +emergencies, and ten thousand a year is two hundred a week besides." + +Anna was horrified. "You didn't think we'd _spend_ what we make, did +you?" + +"Why not? Uncle John didn't say we had to show them ten thousand in +coin at the end of the year; he said I had to _make_ it--on the books. +We can spend every kopeck of it, if we want to. And I was about to say +that with six thousand dollars left over from the mortgage money, +we'll have a maid after all. Yea, verily, even a cook." + +Anna glanced at her hands--slim, beautiful hands they were--and shook +her head obstinately. "No, dear. Because what we save now _might_ be +our only capital later." + +"But we're going to _win_. We're going to exert our resistless wills +to the utmost. What's the use of being tightwads?" + +"But if we _shouldn't_ win, look where we'd be! No, dear, we're going +to save our pennies. That's why I picked out this apartment; that's +why I'm doing as much as I can with it myself. It's the only safe way. +And just look around--haven't I done wonders with almost nothing at +all?" + +Henry looked around, not that his memory was at fault, but because he +was perpetually dumbfounded by her genius. Originally, this +living-room had been a dolorous cave with varnished yellow-pine +woodwork, gas-logs, yellow wall-paper to induce toothache, and a stark +chandelier with two anemic legs kicking out at vacancy. She had caused +the Orpheum electrician to remove the chandelier; with her own hands, +she had painted the woodwork a deep, rich cream-colour; she had +ripped out the gas-logs and found what no one had ever suspected--a +practicable flue; and she had put in a basket grate which in the later +season would glow with cheerful coals. Over the wall-paper she had +laid a tint which was a somewhat deeper cream than the woodwork. She +had made that cave attractive with a soft, dull-blue rug, and wicker +furniture, with hangings of cretonne in sunny gold and an echo of the +blue rug, with brass bowls which held the bulbs she had tended on the +kitchen window-sill, with bookshelves, and pictures from her own home. +Especially by candle-light, it was charming; and her greatest joy, and +Henry's unending marvel, was that it had cost so little, and that so +much of it was her own handiwork. + +"Yes, but pause and reflect a minute," said Henry. "I've sold the big +car and bought a tin-plated runabout. I've sold my horse. I've sold +ten tons of old clothes and priceless jewels. Financially speaking, +I'm as liquid as a pellucid pool in a primeval forest. And there's +another grand thing to consider; I'm keeping my own books, so +nobody's going to crack the till, the way they did with grandfather. +Can't we even have a _cook_?" + +"No, dear. Nobody but me. We've got to play safe. It's all part of the +game. Don't you see it is?" + +Eventually, he agreed with her, and went back to the Orpheum, where a +score of workmen were busy remodelling the interior, and patching up +the façade. He stood for a moment to watch the loading of a truck with +broken-seats, jig-saw decorations, and the remains of a battered old +projector; he looked up, presently to the huge sign over the entrance: +"Closed During Alterations, Grand Opening Sunday Afternoon, August +20th. Souvenirs." There was no disputing the fact that all his eggs +were in one basket, and that if the Reform League started to throw +stones at it, they would find it a broad mark. But Henry had plenty of +assurances that he didn't need to worry, and so he sponged away the +last of his doubts, and set to work to learn his business with all +possible speed. + +It was his first experience with the building trades, and he was +innocent enough to believe in schedules and estimates. In less than a +fortnight, however, he came home to his wife in a mood which she was +quick to detect, no matter how carefully he disguised it. + +"Oh, I'm just peevish," said Henry. "The contractor says it'll take +four weeks instead of three, and cost six thousand instead of +forty-five hundred. But there's no use wearing a long face about it. +If I did, I didn't mean to." + +Anna slipped out of her big apron, and rearranged her hair. "Of course +you didn't. I just knew." + +"As a matter of fact," he said, "my face feels long enough to fit in a +churn. Only I was under the impression that I'd put on a mask of +gaiety that was absolutely impenetrable.... Well, what's happened in +the ancestral home today?" + +She had burned a steak and both thumbs; there was a leak in the +plumbing, and the family overhead had four children and a phonograph. +Henry kissed the thumbs, cursed the kitchen range, and forgot his +troubles. + +"You're going to ruin your hands," he said, sympathetically. "Darn +it, we _can_ afford a cook, Anna. Come on; be reasonable." + +She shook her head. "Oh! And I meant to tell you the wall-paper's +peeling off in the dining room, and the most _awful_ smell of fried +onions keeps coming up the dumb-waiter shaft." + +Henry gathered her into his arms. "Dearest, in a year you can have a +dipperful of attar of roses for every fried onion. And we'll be so +rich you can mingle practically on equal terms with the plumber's +wife.... Now let's go put on the feed-bag. And by the way, I prefer my +steak slightly burned--it's more antiseptic." + +He never suspected that ninety-nine percent of her difficulties were +imaginary, and that she had invented them as soon as she saw his +face. + +A week later, the contractor brought in still another schedule, and +another estimate; Henry became Chesterfieldian in his politeness, and +wanted to know if a contract were a contract, or merely a piece of +light literature. The contractor was apologetic, but wages were going +up--materials were high--labour was scarce--transportation was +uncertain--shipments were slow-- + +Henry was angry and disillusioned, but he knew that belligerence would +gain him nothing. "In other words," he said, genially, "there's +something the matter with everything but the Orpheum, and everybody +but me. I congratulate myself. Well, when I do get the job finished, +and what does it cost--not to a minute and a fraction of a cent, of +course, but a general idea--what year, and--" + +"Mr. Devereux!" + +"And a guess that's within say, a couple of thousand dollars of the +real price." + +"I hope you don't think _I_'m making any big profit out of this. To +tell the truth--" + +"Oh, _I_ know," said Henry. "You're losing money. Don't deny it, you +eleemosynary rascal, don't deny it." + +The man felt himself insulted, but Henry was smiling, and of course +that strange word might be something technical. "Well, to tell the +truth, we--" + +"Come on, now. I know you're an altruist, but be a sport. You're +losing money, and the children are moaning with hunger in their little +trundle-beds, but when do I get the job done?" + +"The second week in September." + +"_This_ September? And the bill?" + +"Shaved down so close there's hardly any--" + +"Shave it every morning; it's being done. But what's your figure?" + +"Seventy-six fifty." + +There was nothing for Henry to do but to have a new date painted on +the sign, and to draw on his reserve fund, but at bottom he was vastly +perturbed. He had counted on a running start, and every week of delay +was a vicious handicap. If he had remotely imagined how elastic a +contractor's agreement could be, he would certainly have thought twice +about ordering so many changes--he would have steered a middle course, +and been satisfied with half the improvement--but as it was, he had +put himself in a trap. Now that the work was partly done, it would +have to be completed. There was no way out of it. And from day to day, +as the arrears of labour heaped up, and cost was piled on cost, Henry +began to lose a trifle of his fine buoyancy and optimism. + +Also, it was amazing to discover that Anna was much less self-reliant +than he had thought her. Almost every night she displayed some +unsuspected trait of helplessness, so that he simply had to shelve his +worries, and baby her out of her own. He adored her, and therefore he +never questioned her ingenuousness; he didn't see that by monopolizing +his thoughts, and turning them entirely upon herself, she prevented +him from wasting his energy in futile brooding, even if he had +inclined to it. + +He planned to open in mid-September, but a strike among the carpenters +added a few days to the time, and, by virtue of a compromise, a few +dollars to the account. The building inspector wouldn't pass the +wiring, and the electricians took a holiday before they condescended +to return. When the last nail was driven, the last brushful of paint +applied, the final item added to the long statement, the day was the +last Friday in the month, and the total bill amounted to more than +nine thousand dollars. + +"Anna," said Henry, reflectively, "it's a lucky thing for us this +world was all built before we were born. Know that? Because if they'd +ever started it under _modern_ conditions, there wouldn't be anything +to it yet but the Garden of Eden and Atlantic City and maybe Gopher +Prairie.... Well, I wonder what's next?" + +"There won't _be_ any next, dear. Nothing can happen now. And aren't +you glad I've made us economize? Aren't you? Say your prayers! +Say--'bless Anna'!" + +"Not Anna--_Polly_anna. Glad we economized! Why don't you say you're +glad it took two months to do two weeks' work because that gave me so +much more time to study the game, and find out how to run the theatre? +No, it goes back farther than that. I'm glad you caught me while I was +so young." + +"Henry!" + +"What? Don't you remember how you pursued me, and vamped me, and took +away my volition, so I was helpless as a babe--" + +"Oh, _Henry_!" + +"Sure you did. Funny you don't remember that. Or else--was it the +other way around?" + +"Well--" + +"Well, anyhow," he said, in a slightly lower key. "I'm glad it +happened.... And you stick to me, and you'll wear diamonds yet. Great +hunks of grit, strung all over you. I'll make you look as vulgar as a +real society woman. That's the kind of man I am. A good provider--that +is, of course, _providing_." + +And on Saturday morning, the _Herald_ told them that a committee from +the Reform League had waited on the Mayor for the third time, and +delivered an ultimatum. + +"Oh, bother!" said Anna. "There's been something in the paper every +two or three days. It doesn't amount to a row of pins. Dad says so." + +Henry inhaled deeply. "Did you see who's on that committee? Mix and +Aunt Mirabelle, of course, and if they've got it in for anybody +special, I'm it. Bob says Mix is a grand little hater; he's seen him +in action, and he says to keep an eye on him: says Mix had lined up a +buyer for the Orpheum, so naturally he's sore at me.... And then a +flock of old men just under par--I'd say they average about +ninety-seven and a half--but they're a pretty solid lot; too solid to +be booted out of _any_ Mayor's office. And if they _should_ get the +Mayor stirred up, why, we wouldn't have the chance of a celluloid rat +in a furnace.... I wish the Judge were where I could get at him. He'd +know what's going on." + +"Couldn't you ask the Exhibitors Association?" + +"_They_ don't know. The Judge is on the inside. Do you know when he's +coming back from his vacation?" + +"Not for two or three weeks yet. But I've an intuition, dear--" + +"Sure. So have I. A year from now we'll be eating our golden pheasants +off our golden plates with our gold teeth. But in the meantime, you +better keep your eye on the butcher's bill.... They tell me hash is a +great nerve-food." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +In years the Mayor was no chicken, but in politics he had hardly +chipped his shell, so that he was still susceptible to delegations, +and sets of resolutions, and references to his solemn oath of office. +Furthermore, he had been secretly awed by Mr. Mix's eloquence; for Mr. +Mix, as spokesman of the committee, had delivered a speech which was a +brief history of both common and statutory law from the time of Solon +and Draco up to the most recent meeting of the City Council. Then, in +addition, the Mayor had been mightily impressed by the personnel of +that committee--chiefly old men, to be sure, but men of immense +dignity and considerable weight in local finance; and also, for a +counterpoise, there was Miss Starkweather. He hadn't liked the way +Miss Starkweather looked at him. She had looked at him with the same +rigid intensity with which his wife looked at a fly in the +dining-room. + +As the door closed behind the last of the committee, the Mayor drew a +prodigious breath, and walked over to the window, where for several +minutes he remained in deep thought. He tried to remember Mr. Mix's +peroration: + +"Thousands of years ago, Mr. Mayor, when the race of man was still +dressed in skins, and domiciled in caves, and settling its differences +with clubs and brickbats, there was no institution of law,--there was +no written language. But as civilization advanced, men found the +necessity of communicating their ideas; so that they devised a form of +speech which would enable them to exchange these ideas--such as they +were--about life, and law. And later on, it was plain that in order to +perpetuate these ideas and pass them to posterity, it was necessary to +write them down; and so there was developed a written language, and by +this method civilized men through all the ages have written down the +laws under which they are willing to live. It would be impractical for +all of us to meet together to pass our laws, and therefore we elect +representatives who make our laws for us. These laws are binding upon +all of us until they are set aside by still other legislators, still +acting for the whole people, who have chosen them as their legislative +representatives. The duty of the executive branch of our government is +to enforce those laws, whether made yesterday, or made fifty years +ago, or five hundred years ago, and written down in our law-books.... +This is our third conference with you, Mr. Mayor, in regard to one of +those laws. I therefore have to inform you, in behalf of our committee +and our League, and our whole city (whose representatives in City +Council passed that law for our common good) that you stand today at +the parting of the ways. You must choose whether to uphold your sacred +oath of office, or to disregard it. And within forty-eight hours you +will have made that choice, and we shall know where our duty lies.... +I thank you for your patience." + +The Mayor was one of those who, without the first atom of sustaining +evidence, had long been vaguely suspicious that Mr. Mix wasn't always +as pious as he appeared in church. He had noted, too, that although +Mr. Mix's name was frequently listed on committees, yet it never +bobbed up in connection with an obscure cause, however worthy, or +among the names of unimportant citizens. He was convinced that Mr. Mix +had an ulterior motive--political, social, financial--but the worst of +it was that Mr. Mix had come with support which couldn't be +sidetracked. + +The Mayor shook himself, and went over to his telephone; a few minutes +later the Chief of Police strolled in, and grinned at the disordered +semi-circle of chairs. "Been holdin' a prayer-meetin', Mr. Rowland?" + +The Mayor was biting his moustache. "Sit down, Chief. I want some +advice.... Lord, I wish Barklay wasn't off on his vacation.... Why, +I've just had a threat from this Reform League." + +"Threat? What kind of a threat?" + +The Mayor didn't reply immediately; he continued to chew his +moustache. "You know that fool Sunday law--was passed 'way back in the +year One?" + +"Sure. 147. Dead letter." + +"They say it's got to be enforced." + +The Chief laughed boisterously. "That's a big order." + +"I know it is. The mass of the people don't want it--never did. But in +these days there isn't a Councillor _I_ know'd put a motion to repeal +it, or amend it. Probition's scared 'em. They don't know _what_ the +people want, so they're laying mighty low.... Same time, this League's +getting pretty strong. Mix, and John Starkweather's sister, and +ex-Senator Kaplan, Richards of the First National, Dr. Smillie of the +Church crowd, old man Fredericks of National Metal--know what they +handed me today?" + +"Let her come." + +The Mayor snorted with disgust. "Hinted if I didn't begin enforcement +day after tomorrow they'd appeal to the Governor.... Lord, I wish +Barklay was here." + +The Chief grinned again. "I know what Barklay'd say." + +"What?" + +"Give 'em rope." + +"We-ll ... that's easy enough to _say_." + +"Easy to do, too." + +"I can't see it. But if they go up to the Governor, with a petition to +investigate--and the state law's pretty rough--and start impeachment +proceedings--" + +The Chief spat contemptuously. "Shucks, give 'em rope." + +"Well--_how_?" + +"Why, _enforce_ the damn' law--just once. Spike Mix's guns--he's only +doin' this on a bluff. Guess he wants the reform vote for Council, or +somethin'. Keep it under our bonnets, and send out a squad of +patrolman Sunday afternoon to raid every theatre in town. Bat 'em over +the head before they know it. I wouldn't even tell my own men 'till I +lined 'em up and give 'em their orders. Then listen for the public to +holler." + +The Mayor had broken into a high-pitched laugh; he stopped abruptly. +"How many people'd there be in all the houses put together?" + +"Six thousand. Five of 'em at the movies." + +"They'd start a riot!" + +"Oh, I wouldn't pinch the audiences; just the managers, and bust up +the shows. _Then_ you'd find out if the people want that law or not. +We say they don't, but how do we know? Let's find out." + +The Mayor sat down at his desk, and began to chuckle. "Chief, that's a +bully idea--but what'd happen on Monday?" + +"Happen? When, five, six thousand voters got put out in the street and +their Sunday afternoon spoiled? Fellows with girls--Pa takin' the +family out for a treat--factory hands? They'd be a howlin' mob in the +Council chamber on Monday mornin'; that's what'd happen. And _one_ +damn fool law'd be fixed so's the Police Department'd know how to +handle it." + +"It's passing the buck!" murmured the Mayor, ecstatically. "It's +passing the buck right to the people, by George!" + +"Sure. Do we go ahead with it? Want anybody tipped off?" + +The Mayor was hugging his knees ecstatically. "No, we'll make a clean +sweep. No favourites. The bigger haul the better. All the boys'll +understand. Keep it dead under your hat. We'll talk over the details +tomorrow." Chuckling, he leaned back and opened his arms wide, his +fists closed. "Rope!" he said. "Rope! Chief, we'll give 'em a +hawser!" + + * * * * * + +On Saturday evening, Henry gave a special invitation performance, to +which only his personal friends and Anna's were bidden, and if he had +cherished any lingering doubt of his place in society, it must have +been removed that night. His friends didn't know the details of the +Starkweather trust fund, but they knew that Henry's future was lashed +to his success with the Orpheum, and they came to help tie the knot. +Naturally, since the auditorium was filled with young people who had +grown up together, and with a few older people who had helped to bring +them up, there was plenty of informality--indeed, a large part of it +had been scheduled and rehearsed in advance. Henry didn't have to ask +any questions; he knew that Bob Standish was responsible. + +With Anna beside him, he had stood for thirty minutes in the foyer, +to receive his guests, and as smile after smile encouraged him, and he +heard the steady stream of sincere good-wishes, Henry began to grow +curiously warm in the region of his heart, and curiously weak in the +knees. Anna moved closer to him. + +"I told you so," she whispered. "I told you so. Everybody loves you." + +"It isn't me," he whispered back, with ungrammatical fervour. "It's +you." + +They stood together, then, at the rear of the house, to watch the +high-jinks going on in front. Standish had ousted the three-piece +orchestra, and taken over the piano; two other volunteers had flanked +him, and the revelry began with a favourite ditty to proclaim that all +reports to the contrary notwithstanding, Henry was style all the +while, all the while. + +Then, suddenly, there were loud shouts for Henry and Anna, and they +were seized and dragged to the top of the centre aisle. Standish swung +into the Mendelssohn Wedding March, and through a haze of rose-leaf +confetti and paper streamers, the two Devereuxs were forced down to +the orchestra-pit. The house was on its feet to them, and Anna, +half-laughing, half-crying with happiness, was sorting confetti out of +her hair when Standish clambered up on the stage, and waved for +silence. + +"Listen, everybody.... Old Hank Devereux and wife tried to save the +price of a caterer, last spring, and they got away with it. Alas, +Hank's a jealous bird, and he was afraid somebody'd kiss the bride. +Furthermore, Anna didn't want to get any wedding presents, because +they clutter up the house so. And when most of your friends live in +the same town, it's hard to get rid of the stuff you don't want. So +they buncoed us out of a party. Well, so far we've given 'em +Mendelssohn and confetti. Any lady or gent who now desires to kiss the +bride, please rise and come forward.... Hey, there! This isn't any +Sinn Fein sociable! Ceremony's postponed!... And finally, dearly +beloved brethren and sistren, we come to the subject of wedding +gifts." He turned to look down at the Devereuxs, and some of the +levity went out of his voice. "We thought we'd bring you a little +something for good-luck, old man. It's from all of us. Hope you like +it. If you don't, you can swap it for a few tons of coal.... There she +comes!" + +It was a magnificent silver tea-service, borne down the aisle by the +two men who, next to Standish, were Henry's best friends. + +Anna was utterly speechless, and Henry was coughing diligently. The +service was placed on the piano; Henry touched the cool smoothness of +a cream-jug, and tried to crystallize his thought into coherence. + +The applause had died away; the house was quiet, expectant. From the +rear, a man's voice said: "It isn't like a golf championship trophy, +old man--you don't have to win it three times--it's all yours." + +In the shriek of laughter which followed, Henry, with Anna in tow, +fled to shelter. "Lights!" said Henry. Abruptly, the auditorium was +dim. And with Anna holding tight to his fingers, he sat down in the +furthest corner, and trembled. + +For the next two hours, Standish, who was on one of his periodical +fits of comedy, stuck to his piano, and dominated the evening. He +played grotesquely inappropriate melodies, he commanded singing, once +he stopped the show and with the assistance of a dozen recruits put on +the burlesque of an amateur night at a music-hall. He made the +occasion a historical event, and when at last it was over, and the +guests were filing out to the lobby, he came to Henry and held out his +hand. + +"Big-time, Henry, big-time," he said. "See? They're all with you." + +Henry cleared his throat. "You're a peach, Bob. You got it up." + +"Oh, it wasn't anything." Standish's cloak of comedy had fallen away; +he looked as lazy, and as innocent and childlike as ever. "Before I +go--I had a letter today from one of the big movie circuit crowd. +They'll pay you thirty-seven thousand five hundred cash for the +Orpheum. I've got a certified check for a thousand to bind the +bargain. Want it?" + +Henry didn't even glance at it. "Put it back in your pocket, Bob. I +wouldn't sell it for ten times that--not after tonight." + +His friend smiled very faintly. "It's a good price, if you care to get +out from under. Between you and me, I think it's more than the +Orpheum's worth." + +"Don't want it," said Henry gruffly. + +Standish gazed with vast innocence at Anna. "Third and last chance, +Henry. Otherwise, I'll mail it back tonight. Just a few hours from now +this place, right where we're standing, 'll look like a sardine-can +come to life, and you'll be taking in money hand over fist, and you'll +be branded forever as--" + +"Oh, shut up," said Henry, affectionately. + + * * * * * + +Through the jostling, good-natured crowd which blocked the sidewalk in +front of the Orpheum Theatre, that Sunday at two o'clock, a policeman +in uniform pushed his way to the ticket-booth. "Where's the manager?" + +The ticket-seller bobbed her head backwards. "First door on the +left." + +The policeman stalked through the lobby, and found the door; knocked +belligerently, and stepped inside. "You the manager? Well, there +ain't goin' to be no show today, see?" + +Henry jumped to his feet. "What's that?" + +"You heard what I said. No show. Close up your theatre and call it a +day." + +Henry turned, for moral support, to his wife: she had already hurried +to his side. "What's all this, Mr. Officer?" she asked, unsteadily. + +"It's police orders; that's what it is, young lady." + +She seized Henry's hand. "But--but when we've--why, you don't really +_mean_ it, do you?" + +He dug into his pocket, and produced a tattered, dog-eared pamphlet, +folded open at one of the early pages. He read aloud, slowly: +"'Whosoever shall fail in the strict observance o' the Lord's Day by +any unseemly act, speech, or carriage, or whosoever shall engage in +any manner o' diversion or profane occupation for profit--'" + +Anna, holding tight to Henry's hand, knew that argument was futile, +but she was a woman, and she had a husband to defend. Her heart was +leaden, but her voice was stout with indignation. + +"But Mr. Policeman! Do you know who I am? I'm Judge Barklay's +daughter. _I_ know all about that ordinance. Nobody's ever--" + +He held up his hand in warning. "That's _all_ right, young lady. If +you're his daughter, you oughter keep on the right side o' the law. It +won't do you no good to bicker about it neither--you go in there an' +tell your audience to get their money back, an' go on home." + +Henry picked up his cigarette. He had no craving to smoke, but he +didn't want Anna to see that his lips were trembling. "Well," he said, +"there goes the old ball-game. And we've sold every seat in the house, +and thrown away three hundred dollar's worth of souvenirs, and the +sidewalk's full of people waiting for the second show.... Knockout Mix +beats Battling Devereux in the first round." He did his best to smile, +but the results were poor. "And when we held off three days just so we +could start on Sunday with a grand smash!" + +"Get a move on, young feller. If the show begins, you're pinched, see? +You go in there and do what I told you." + +From within there was a sudden rattle of applause. Anna gripped +her husband's arm. "It's ... it's begun already," she said, +breathlessly. + +The policeman stepped forward. "You heard me tell you to stop it, +didn't you? What are you tryin' to do--play horse with me? Now you go +in there an' _stop_ it, and then you come along with me an' explain it +to the Judge. See? Now, get a wiggle on." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +From the moment that he went out upon the little stage of his theatre +until he came wearily into his own apartment at five o'clock, Henry +lived upon a mental plane so far removed from his usual existence that +he was hardly aware of any bodily sensations at all. A brand-new group +of emotions had picked him out for their play-ground, and Henry had no +time to be self-conscious. + +In the first place, he was too stunned to remember that he hated to be +conspicuous, and that he had never made a public speech in all his +life. He was paralyzed by the contrast between last night and today. +Consequently, he made a very good speech indeed, and it had some acrid +humour in it, too, and the audience actually cheered him--although +later, when he reviewed the incident in his mind, he had to admit that +the cheers were loudest just after he had told the audience to keep +the souvenirs. + +Then, when in the custody of the patrolman, he went out to the street, +his mood was still so concentrated, his anger and depression so acute, +that he was transported out of the very circumstances which caused him +to be angry and depressed. He realized, with a hazy sort of +perception, that a tail of small boys had attached itself to the +lodestar of the policeman's uniform; but even at this indignity, his +reaction was curiously impersonal. It was as though the spiritual part +of him and the material part had got a divorce; and the spiritual +part, which was the plaintiff, stood coldly aloof, watching the +material part tramping down Main Street, with a flat-footed policeman +beside it, a voluntary escort behind, and rumour flying on ahead to +all the newspapers. He was actually too humiliated to suffer from the +humiliation. + +To be sure, this wasn't by any means his first entanglement with the +law, but heretofore his occasions had been marked by a very different +ritual. He recalled, phlegmatically, that whenever, in the old days, a +member of the motorcycle squad had shot past him, and signalled to +him to stop, the man had always treated him more or less fraternally, +in recognition of the fellowship of high speed. The traffic officers +had cheerfully delivered a summons with one hand, and accepted a cigar +with the other. There was a sort of sporting code about it; and even +in Court, a gentleman who had been arrested for speeding was given the +consideration which belonged to his rank, and the fine was usually +doubled on the assumption that a gentleman could afford it. But this +was different. A Devereux--which was almost the same thing as a +Starkweather--was haled along the highway like a common prisoner. And +if the Devereux hadn't been engaged in that two-for-a-cent, low-class, +revolting business,--and if Aunt Mirabelle hadn't been Aunt +Mirabelle--it couldn't have happened. The spiritual part of him looked +down at the material part, and wondered how Henry Devereux could be so +white-hot with passion, and yet so calm. + +What would his friends say now? What would Bob Standish say, and Mr. +Archer and Judge Barklay? And what would Aunt Mirabelle _not_ say? +This was a grim reflection. + +During the journey he spoke only once, and that was to say, brusquely, +to his captor: "Court isn't open today, is it?" + +"Nope. But we're goin' to a Justice o' the Peace. Might save you a +night in the hoosegow. Can't tell. Orders, anyway." + +The Justice of the Peace (or, as he took some pains to inform Henry, +the Most Honourable Court of Special Sessions) was a grizzled +dyspeptic who held forth in the back room of a shoemaker's shop, while +the rabble waited outside, flattening their noses against the +window-glass. The dyspeptic had evidently been coached for the +proceeding; on his desk he had a copy of the ordinance, and as soon as +he had heard the charge, he delivered a lecture which he seemed to +have by heart, and fined Henry twenty-five dollars and costs. Henry +paid the fine, and turning to go, stumbled against two more policemen, +each with his quarry. "Just out of curiosity," said Henry, speaking to +no one in particular, and in a voice which came so faintly to his +ears that he barely heard it, "Just out of idle curiosity, when the +justice gets half the fine, isn't this court open on Sunday for +godless profit, too?" And in the same, enduring haze of unreality, he +paid an additional twenty dollars for contempt, and went out to the +sidewalk. + +He emerged as the focus of interest for a large, exuberant crowd of +loiterers. A camera clicked, and Henry saw that the man at the shutter +was one of the _Herald's_ staff photographers. A youthful reporter +caught up with him, and asked him what he had to say for publication. +"Say for publication?" repeated Henry, dully. "Why, you can say--" He +walked half a block before he completed the sentence. "You can say if +I said it, you couldn't print it anyway." + +And although the reporter paced him for a quarter of a mile, Henry +never opened his mouth again. He was curiously obsessed, as men under +heavy mental pressure are so often obsessed, by a ridiculously trivial +detail. How was he going to enter that forty-five dollars on his +books? + +He had intended to go straight home to Anna, but automatically his +steps led him to the Orpheum, where he went into his tiny office and +sat down at his desk. There were two envelopes on his blotter; he slit +them, diffidently, and found a bill from the novelty house which had +supplied the souvenirs, and a supplementary statement from the +decorator. + +He opened a fat ledger, took up a pencil, and began to jot down +figures on the back of one of the envelopes. Already, by remodelling +the the theatre, he had lost two month's headway, and spent three +times too much money, and if Sunday performances were to be +eliminated.... He threw down the pencil, and sat back spiritless. The +good-wishes of all his friends, last night, had turned sour in his +possession. To reach his goal, he should have to contrive, somehow, to +fill nearly every seat at nearly every performance for the balance of +the year. It was all well enough to have self-confidence, and courage, +but it was better to look facts in the face. He had come to an +impasse. Not only that, but overnight his property, by virtue of this +Sunday enforcement and its effect upon the trade, had seriously +depreciated in value. If it had been worth thirty-seven thousand five +hundred yesterday, it wasn't worth a penny more than twenty today. And +he could have had Standish's certified check, and got out from under. +And he had thrown away in improvements almost every cent that he had +borrowed against the original value. He was hardly better off, today, +than if he had carried through his first bargain with Mr. Mix. + +He would have to go home to Anna, and confess that he was beaten by +default. He would have to explain to her, as gently as he could, that +the road which led to the end of the rainbow was closed to traffic. He +would have to admit to her that as far as he could see, he was +destined to go on living indefinitely in a jerry-built apartment, with +the odour of fried onions below, and the four children and the +phonograph overhead. And Anna would have to go on pinch-hitting for +cook, and waitress, and chambermaid, and bottle-washer--she would have +to go on with the desecration of her beautiful hands in dish-water, +and the ruin of her complexion over the kitchen-stove. The clothes +that he had planned to buy for her, the jewels, the splendid car--the +cohort of servants he had planned for her--the social prestige! And +instead of that, he was nothing but a fragment of commercial +driftwood, and he couldn't afford, now, to buy her so much as a new +hat, without a corresponding sacrifice. + +And yet--involuntarily, he stiffened--and yet he'd be hanged if he +went back and acted like a whipped pup. No, he was supposed to be a +man, and his friends and Anna believed in him, an he'd be hanged if he +went back and confessed anything at all, admitted anything. It was all +well enough to look facts in the face, but it was better still to keep +on fighting until the gong rang. And when he was fighting against the +cant purity and goodness of Mr. Mix, and the cold astigmatism of Aunt +Mirabelle, he'd be hanged if he quit in the first round. No, even if +Henry himself knew that he was beaten, nobody else was going to know +it, and Anna least of all. + +At five o'clock, he came blithely into his living-room: and as he saw +Anna's expression, his own changed suddenly. He had thought to find +her in tears; but she was coming to him with her usual welcome, her +usual smile. + +Henry didn't quite understand himself, but he was just the least bit +offended, regardless of his relief. You simply couldn't tell from one +minute to the next what a woman was going to do. By all precedent, +Anna should have been enjoying hysterics, which Henry had come +prepared to treat. + +"Well," he said, "you'd better cancel that order for golden pheasants, +old dear." She stopped short, and stared at him curiously, as though +the remark had come from a stranger. + +"We've got lamb chops tonight," said Anna, with whimsical relevance, +"and fresh strawberry ice-cream. And pheasants are awfully indigestible, +anyway." + +Henry returned her stare. "What have you been doing all the +afternoon--reading Marcus Aurelius?" + +"No, I haven't been reading anything at all. I tidied up the kitchen. +What happened to _you_?" + +There were two different ways of presenting the narrative, and Henry +chose the second. He made it a travesty: and all the time that he was +talking, Anna continued to gaze at him in that same curious, +thoughtful fashion, as if she were noting, for the first time, a +subtle variation in his character. + +"And--aren't you even _mad_?" she demanded. "I thought you'd be +furious. I thought you'd be tearing your hair and--and _every_thing." + +Henry laughed explosively. "Impatience, as I've pointed out so often +to Aunt Mirabelle, dries the blood more than age or sorrow. Yes, I'm +mad, but I've put it on ice. I'm trying to work out some scheme to +keep us in the running, and not give Mix too good an excuse to hoot at +us. No--they say it's darkest just before the dawn, so I'm trying to +fix it so we'll be sitting on the front steps to see the sunrise. Only +so far I haven't had a mortal thought." + +"As a matter of fact," she confided, "I loathed the idea of our +running the Orpheum on Sundays. Didn't you?" + +"Naturally. Also on Thursdays, Saturdays, Mondays, Fridays, +Wednesdays and Tuesdays. But Sundays did sort of burrow a little +further under my tough hide. And you know that's quite an admission +for anybody that was brought up by Aunt Mirabelle." He smiled in +reminiscence. "She used to make virtue so darned scaly and repulsive +that it's a wonder I've got a moral left. As it is, my conscience +may be all corrugated like a raisin, but I'm almost glad we +_can't_ run Sundays. That is, I would be if my last remaining moral +weren't going to be so expensive." + +"Don't you think they'll probably change that ordinance now, though? +Don't you think people will insist on it? After today?" + +"Guess work," said Henry. "Pure guesswork. But _my_ guess is that +we're ditched." + +"Well, why don't you join the Exhibitors Association, and fight?" + +He shook his head. "No, because that's just what Mix and Aunt +Mirabelle expect me to do. This campaign of theirs is impersonal +towards everybody else, but it's slightly personal towards me. I mean, +Aunt Mirabelle's sore on general principles, and Mix is sore because I +wouldn't come up and eat out of his hand and get myself sheared. We +won't fight. We'll outwit 'em." + +"But _how_?" + +"Now that question," he said reproachfully, "was mighty tactless. _I_ +don't know how. But I know I'm not going to stick my head over the +ramparts for 'em to shoot at. I'm no African Dodger--I'm an +impresario. Maybe they'll hit me in the eye, all right, but I'm not +going to give 'em a good cigar for it." + +"I know, dear, but how are we going to make up all that tremendous +loss?" + +"Sheer brilliance," said Henry, easily. "Which is what I haven't got +nothing but, of. So I'm banking on you.... And in the meantime, let's +go ahead with the orgy of lamb chops you were talking about. I'm +hungry." + +They spent the evening in a cheerful discussion of ways and means, +during which she was continually impressed by Henry's attitude. From +earlier circumstances she had gathered that when he was under fire, +his rash impulsiveness would remain constant, and that only his +jocular manner would disappear; furthermore, she knew that in spite of +that manner, he was a borrower of trouble. And yet Henry, who had a +pretty legitimate reason to be bristling with rancour, sat and talked +away as assuredly as though this hadn't been his doomsday. + +She left him, once, to answer the telephone, and when she came back, +she caught him off guard, and saw his face in repose. Henry wasn't +aware of it; and when he heard her footsteps, he looked up with an +instantaneous re-arrangement of his features. But Anna had seen, and +Anna had understood; she sensed that Henry, for a generous purpose, +had merely adopted a pose. Secretly, he was quite as tormented, quite +as desperate, as she had expected him to be. + +Her heart contracted, but for Henry's sake, she closed her eyes to the +revelation, and resumed the discourse in the same key which Henry had +set for it. Far into the night they exchanged ideas, and half-blown +inspirations, but when Henry finally arose, with the remark that it +was time to wind the clock and put out the cat, they had come to no +conclusion except that something would certainly have to be done about +it. "Oh, well," said Henry, indulgently, "a pleasant evening was +reported as having been had by all, and nothing was settled--so it was +just as valuable as a Cabinet Meeting." + +The sight of the silver tea-service, however, sent him to bed with +renewed determination. + +In the morning, he dreaded to open his newspaper, but when he had read +through the story twice, he conceded that it wasn't half as yellow as +he feared. No, it was really rather conservative, and the photograph +of him wasn't printed at all; he read, with grim satisfaction, that +another culprit, somewhat more impetuous, had smashed the camera, and +attempted to stage a revival of his success upon the photographer. + +He had been fully prepared to find himself singled out for publicity, +and he was greatly relieved. To be sure, there was a somewhat +flippant mention of his relationship to Mirabelle, but it wasn't +over-emphasized, and altogether, he had no justification for +resentment--that is, at the _Herald_. The _Herald_ had merely +printed the news; what Henry resented was the fact. + +He turned to the editorial page and found, as he had imagined, a solid +column of opinion; but to his amazement, it made no protest of +yesterday's event--on the contrary, it echoed Judge Barklay. It said +half a dozen times, in half a dozen different ways, that a bad law +ought to be repealed, a good law ought to be preserved, and that all +laws, good or bad, as long as they were written on the books, ought to +be enforced. Henry was mystified; for the _Herald_ had always +professed to be in utter sympathy with the workingman. + +Later in the day, however, he saw the leading exhibitor in town, who +winked at him. "Clever stuff, Devereux, clever stuff. 'Course, if we +put up a roar, they'll say it's because we've got an ax to grind. Sure +we have. But the _Herald_ wants the _people_--the people that come to +our shows--to get up and blat. Then it wouldn't be the League against +the Association--it'd be the people against the League, and the +laugh'd be on the other foot." + +"What's the betting?" + +"Search _me_. But Mayor Rowland told me if we got up a monster +petition with a thousand or two names on it, he'll bring it up to the +Council. We're puttin' up posters in the lobby." + +Henry's heart jumped. "But suppose the people don't sign?" + +"Well then we'd be out o' luck. But there's other ways o' goin' at +that damn League, and we're goin' to use _all_ of 'em. And that +reminds me, Devereux--ain't it about time for you to join the +Association?" + +"I'm afraid not. I ought to, but--you see, you're going to make things +as hot as you can for the League--personalities, and all that, and +when my aunt is president of it--" + +"But great guns! What's she done to _you_?" + +"I know, but I can't help that. You go ahead and rip things up any way +you want to, but I'd better stay out. It may be foolish, but that's +how I feel about it." + +"It's your own affair. _I_ think you're too blamed easy, but you suit +yourself.... And about the big noise, why I guess all we can do is +wait and see what happens." + +Miss Starkweather, who met him on the street that morning, told him +the same thing. "_Some_ people," she remarked, altitudinously, "are +always getting their toes stepped on, aren't they? Well, there's +another way to look at it--the toes oughtn't to have been there." + +"Oh, give us time," said Henry, pleasantly. "Even the worm turns, you +know." + +"Humph!" said Aunt Mirabelle. "Let a dozen worms do a _dozen_ turns! I +never thought I'd see the day when a Devereux--almost the same thing +as a Starkweather--'d figure in a disgrace such as yours. You've +heaped muck on your uncle's parlour-carpet. But some day you'll see +the writing on the wall, Henry." + +He was tempted to remind her of another city ordinance against +bill-posting, but he refrained, and saved it up for Anna. + +"I'll watch for it," he said. + +"Well, you better. All _I_'ve got to say is this: you just wait and +see what happens." + +And then, to complete the record, he got identically the same +suggestion from Bob Standish. + +"I suppose," said Standish, "maybe you're wishing you'd taken that +check." + +"Not that, exactly--but I've thought about it." + +"Strikes me that you're in the best position of anybody in town, +Henry. You've got a following that'll see you through, if it's humanly +possible." + +"Sounds like passing the hat, doesn't it?" + +"Oh, no. And the side that scores first doesn't always win the game, +either--I dare say you've noticed it. It'll come out all right--you +just wait and see what happens." + +Henry waited, and he saw. And to Henry's dismay, and to the Mayor's +chagrin, and to Miss Mirabelle Starkweather's exceeding complacence, +nothing happened at all. + +The public petition, which had been advertised as "monstrous," caught +hardly five hundred names, and two thirds of them were Mr. A. Mutt, +Mr. O. Howe Wise, Mr. O. U. Kidd, and similar patronymics, scribbled +by giggling small boys. The blue-law was universally unpopular, and no +doubt of it, but the citizenry hesitated to attack it; the recent +landslide for prohibition showed an apparent sentiment which nobody +wanted to oppose--Why, if a man admitted that he was in favour of +Sunday tolerance, his friends (who of course were going through +exactly the same mental rapids) might put him down in the same class +with those who still mourned for saloons. Each man waited for his +neighbour to sign first, and the small boys giggled, and filled up the +lists. Besides, there was a large amusement park just beyond the city +line, and the honest workingman proceeded to pay his ten-cent fare, +and double the profit of the park. + +The Exhibitors Association put up its fists to the Mayor, and the +Mayor proposed a public hearing, with the Council in attendance. At +this juncture the Reform League sent a questionnaire to each +Councillor, and to each member of the Association. The phraseology was +Socratic (it was the product of Mr. Mix's genius) and if any one +answered Yes, he was snared: if he said No, he was ambushed, and if he +said nothing he was cooked. It reminded the Mayor of the man who +claimed that in a debate, he would answer every question of his +adversary with a simple No or Yes--and the first question was: "Have +you stopped beating your wife?" + +The Exhibitors held a meeting behind closed doors, and gave out the +statement that nothing was to be gained by a public hearing. But they +launched a flank attack on the Council only to discover that the +Council was wide awake, and knew that its bread was buttered on one +side only. + +"We are listening," said the Chairman, with statesmanlike dignity, +"for the voice of the people, and so far we haven't heard a peep. It +looks as if they don't _want_ you fellows to run Sunday's, don't it?" + +The spokesman of the Exhibitors cleared his throat. "Statistics prove +that every Sunday, an average of six thousand people--" + +"That's all right. We've seen your petition. And Mr. Mutt and Mr. Kid +and most of the rest of your patrons don't seem to be registered +voters. How about it?" + +The Council burst into a loud laugh, and the spokesman retreated in +discomfiture. + +For several days, Henry was fairly besieged by his friends, who joked +him about his arrest, and then, out of genuine concern, wanted to know +if his prospects were seriously damaged. To each interrogatory, Henry +waved his hand with absolute nonchalance. As far as he knew, only six +people were in the secret--himself, his wife, Judge Barklay, Standish, +Mr. Archer and Aunt Mirabelle--and he wasn't anxious to increase the +number. His aunt might not have believed it, but this was more on her +account than on his own. + +"Lord, no," said Henry, casually. "Don't worry about _me_. I'm only +glad there's some news for the _Herald_. It was getting so dry you had +to put cold cream on it or it'd crack." + +By the time that Judge Barklay returned from his vacation, the subject +had even slipped away from the front page of the newspapers. The +flurry was over. And out of a population of fifty thousand, +ninety-nine per cent of whom were normal-minded citizens, neither +ultra-conservative nor ultra-revolutionary, that tiny fraction which +composed the Ethical Reform League had stowed its propaganda down the +throats of the overwhelming majority. + +The Judge shrugged his shoulders. "Organization," he said. "They've +got a leader, and speakers, and a publicity bureau. That's all. I hear +they're going to use it to boom Mix for a political job. But you +wait--wait, and keep on paying out the rope." + +"That's all I've got left to pay out," said Henry, amiably. + +"Aren't you doing pretty well, considering?" + +Henry nodded. "We're doing great business--I mean, anybody else would +think so. About a hundred and fifty a week net, for the first three +weeks. And Anna's salting away a hundred and ten of it. Every morning +I draw a clean handkerchief, and a dime for dissipation, and she keeps +a clutch on the rest." + +"Hm! A hundred and fifty. That's good money, Henry." + +"Well, that's the only kind we take. But you can see for yourself what +this thing's done to us. We ought to be averaging two twenty-five. And +we'd have done it, too." + +The Judge appeared contrite. "I'm afraid you're blaming me for bad +advice, Henry." + +"No, sir. If I blamed anybody, I'd just blame myself for taking it. +But I don't. You see, even if I fall down on the first prize, I've got +a pretty good business under way. Eight thousand a year." + +"Would you keep on with it?" + +"I'd think it over. It isn't particularly joyous, but it sure does pay +the rent. Oh, I suppose I'd try to sell it, if I could get a price for +it, but Bob says I couldn't expect a big one, because so much of the +trade sort of belongs to _us_--and wouldn't necessarily patronize the +chap that bought me out. He tells me it was worth twenty when I took +it, and thirty now, and if it weren't for this law, it would be worth +fifty. That's all due to the improvements, and you advised me to put +'em in, and you engineered the mortgage. So I'm not huffy at you. +Hardly." + +"Still, you want the big prize if you can get it.... Notice what Mix +is giving out to the papers? He'll hang himself yet, and if he does, +you won't be too far behind to catch up. That's a prophecy. But by +George, I can't help feeling that Mix isn't in that outfit for his +health. It just don't smell right, somehow." + +The Reform League had jubilantly explained to Mr. Mix that he was a +liberator and a saviour of humanity from itself, and Mr. Mix had +deftly caught whatever bouquets were batted up to him. He had allowed +the fragrance of them to waft even as far as the _Herald_ office, to +which he sent a bulletin every forty-eight hours. Mr. Mix's salary was +comforting, his expense accounts were paid as soon as vouchers were +submitted, he was steadily advancing in Miss Starkweather's good +books, and he considered himself to be a very clever man indeed. + +At the very least, he was clever enough to realize that his position +was now strategically favourable, and that as long as he moved neither +forward nor backward, he was in no danger from any source. He had a +living salary, and he was saving enough out of it to reduce his +indebtedness; in a year he could snap his fingers at the world. +Furthermore, he could see no possibility of legislating himself out of +his job before that time--certainly not if he played his cards +craftily, and didn't push his success too far. And by the end of the +year, he could select a future to fit the circumstances. + +For the time being, however, it seemed advisable to Mr. Mix to make +haste slowly; he had turned an impending personal catastrophe into a +personal triumph, but the triumph could be spoiled unless he kept it +carefully on ice. The failure of the public to rise up and flay the +League had lifted Mr. Mix into a position of much prominence, and +conveyed the very reasonable supposition that he was individually +powerful. When a man is supposed to possess power, he can travel a +long distance on the effect of a flashing eye, and an expanded chest; +also, it is a foolhardy man who, regardless of his reputation, engages +to meet all-comers in their own bailiwick. + +He had committed himself to the preparation of an amendment to the +ordinance, which should be more definite, and more cerulean, than the +original, but he knew that if he pressed it too soon, it might topple +back and crush him. The people could be led, but they couldn't be +driven. And therefore Mr. Mix, who had naturally made himself solid +with the reactionaries and the church-going element (except those +liberals who regarded him as an officious meddler), and who had +actually succeeded in being mentioned as the type of man who would +make a good Mayor, or President of Council, followed out a path which, +unless his geography of common-sense was wrong, could hardly end at a +precipice. + +He became, overnight, a terror to the boys and young men who rolled +dice in the city parks, and on the alley sidewalks in the business +district; and this was held commendable even by the church-goers who +played bridge at the Citizens Club for penny points. He headed a +violent onslaught upon the tobacconists who sold cigarettes to minors, +and this again was applauded by those who in their youth had avoided +tobacco--because it was too expensive--and smoked sweet-fern and +cornsilk behind the barn. He nagged the School Board until there went +forth an edict prohibiting certain styles of dress; and the mothers of +several unattractive maidens wrote letters to him, and called him a +Christian. The parents of other girls also wrote to him, but he +didn't save the letters. He made a great stir about the Sanitary Code, +and the Pure Food regulations, and although the marketmen began to +murmur discontentedly--and why, indeed, should the grocery cat not +sleep in a bed of her own choosing; and why should not the busy, +curious, thirsty fly have equal right of access with any other +insect?--yet Mr. Mix contrived to hold himself up to the public as a +live reformer, but not a radical, and to the League as a radical but +not a rusher-in where angels fear to tread. It required the +equilibrium of a tight-rope walker, but Mr. Mix had it. Indeed, he +felt as pleased with himself as though he had invented it. And he +observed, with boundless satisfaction, that the membership of the +League was steadily increasing, and that the Mayoralty was mentioned +more frequently. He was aware, of course, that a reform candidate is +always politically anemic, but he was hoping that by the injection of +good-government virus, he might be strong enough to catch a regular +nomination, to boot, and to run on a fusion ticket. From present +indications, it wasn't impossible. And Mr. Mix smirked in his +mirror. + +Mirabelle said, with a rolling-up of her mental shirt-sleeves: "Well, +now let's get after something _drastic_. I've heard lots of people say +you ought to get elected to office; well, show 'em what you can do. Of +course, what we've been doing is all _right_, but it's kind of small +potatoes." + +Mr. Mix looked executive. "Mustn't go too fast, Miss Starkweather. +Can't afford to make people nervous." + +"Humph! People that don't feel guilty, don't feel nervous. I say it's +about time to launch something drastic. Next thing for us to do is to +make the League a state-wide organization, and put through a Sunday +law with teeth in it. That amusement park's got to go. Maybe we'd +better run over to the capital and talk to the Governor." + +Mr. Mix was decisively opposed, but he couldn't withstand her. He had +a number of plausible arguments, but she talked them into jelly, and +eventually dragged him to an interview with the Governor. When it was +over, she beamed victoriously. + +"There! Didn't I tell you so? He's with us." + +Mr. Mix repressed a smile. "Yes, he said if we draft a bill, and get +it introduced and passed, he'll sign it." + +"Well, what more could he say?" + +He wanted to ask, in turn, what less could be said, but he contained +himself. "You know," he warned her, "as soon as we put out any really +violent propaganda, we're going to lose some of our new members, and +some of our prestige." + +"Good! Weed out the dead-wood." + +"That's all right, but after what we've done with the food laws and +stopping the sale of cigarettes to boys, and so on, people are looking +at us as a switch to chastise the city. But we don't want them to look +at us as a cudgel. And this state law you've got in mind hits too many +people." + +"Let it hit 'em." + +"Well, anyway," he pleaded, "there's no sense in going out and waving +the club so everybody's scared off. We ought to take six months or a +year, and do it gradually. And we ought to pass a model ordinance here +first, before we talk about statutes. I'd suggest a series of public +lectures, and a lot of educational pamphlets for a start. I'll write +them myself." + +She was impatient, but she finally yielded. "Well, we'll see how it +works. Go ahead and do it." + +"I will--I'll have the whole thing done by late this spring." + +"Not 'till _then_?" she protested, vigorously. + +Mr. Mix shook his head. "Perfect the organization first, and begin to +fight when we've got all our ammunition. It'll take me three months to +get that ready. So far, all we've had is a battle, but now we're +planning a war. I want to be prepared in every detail before we fire a +single more shot." + +She regarded him admiringly. "Sounds reasonable at that. You do it +your own way." + +He was feeling a warm sense of power, and yet he had his moments of +uncertainty, did Mr. Mix, for even with his genius for hypocrisy, he +sometimes found it difficult to be a hypocrite on both sides of the +same proposition. His status was satisfactory, at the moment, but he +mustn't let Mirabelle get the bit in her teeth, and run away with him. +As soon as ever she got him on record as favouring the sort of +legislation which she herself wanted, Mr. Mix's power was going to +dwindle. And Mr. Mix adored his power, and he hated to think of losing +it by too extravagant propaganda. + +There were moments when he wished that Henry were more belligerent, so +that special measures could be taken against him, or that Mirabelle +were more seductive, so that Mr. Mix could be more spontaneous. He +knew that he was personally responsible for the present enforcement; +he believed that because of it, Henry Devereux didn't have a +Chinaman's chance; he knew that if Mirabelle got her legacy, she would +have Mr. Mix to thank for it. But Henry was too cheerful, and +Mirabelle was too coy, and the two facts didn't co-ordinate. + +Certainly there was no finesse in hailing Mirabelle as an heiress +until Henry's failure was more definitely placarded. To be sure, she +had plenty of money now, and she was spending it like water, but he +knew that it included the income from the whole Starkweather estate. +She probably had--oh, a hundred thousand or more of her own. And that +wasn't enough. Yes, it was time for Mr. Mix to think ahead; he had +identified himself so thoroughly with the League that he couldn't +easily withdraw, and Mirabelle still held his note. Of course, if the +League could furnish him with a stepping-stone to the Mayoralty, or +the presidency of Council, Mr. Mix didn't care to withdraw from it +anyway; nor would he falter in his allegiance as long as he had a +chance at an heiress. He wished that Henry would show fight, but Henry +hadn't even joined the Exhibitors Association. It was so much easier +to fight when the other fellow offered resistance. Henry merely +smiled; you couldn't tell whether he were despondent or not. But if he +wouldn't fight, there was always the thin possibility that he might be +satisfied with his progress. And that would be unfortunate for Mr. +Mix. + +There was something else; suppose Mirabelle got her legacy, and Mr. +Mix volunteered to share it with her. He was reasonably confident that +she would consent; her symptoms were already on the surface. But how, +in such event, could Mr. Mix regulate the habits which were so +precious to him? How could he hide his fondness for his cigar, and his +night-cap, his predilection for burlesque shows and boxing bouts and +blonde stenographers? It was difficult enough, even now, and he had +eaten enough trochees and coffee beans to sink a frigate, and he had +been able only once to get away to New York--"to clean up his +affairs." How could he manage his alternative self when Mirabelle had +him under constant and intimate supervision? + +Still, all that could be arranged. For twenty years he had gone to New +York, regularly, on irregular business and not a soul in town was any +the wiser; it was simply necessary to discover what "business" could +summon him if he were married, independent, and a professional +reformer. Mr. Mix, who was always a few lengths ahead of the +calendar, procured the addresses of a metropolitan anti-cigarette +conference, and a watch-and-ward society, and humbly applied by mail +for membership. An alibi is exactly the opposite of an egg; the older +it is, the better. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +When Henry told his wife that he was counting on her for brilliant +ideas, he meant the compliment rather broadly; for he couldn't imagine +how a girl brought up as Anna had been brought up could supply any +practical schemes for increasing the patronage of a motion-picture +theatre. Indeed, when she brought him her first suggestion he laughed, +and kissed her, and petted her, and while he privately appraised her +as a dear little dreamer, he told her that he was ever so much +obliged, but he was afraid that her plan wouldn't work. + +"You see," he said, "you haven't had very much experience in this +business--" + +"Methuselah!" she retorted, and Henry laughed again. + +"That's no way for a wife to talk. When I mention business you're +supposed to look at me with ill-concealed awe. But to get down to +brass tacks, I've watched the audiences for four or five weeks, and I +_am_ beginning to size them up. And I don't believe you can put over +any grand-opera stuff on 'em." + +"It doesn't make the least bit of difference whether it's grand-opera +or the movies, my lord. It'll work." + +He shook his head dubiously. "Well, even suppose it would, I still +don't like it. You don't make friends simply to use 'em for your own +purposes." + +"Why, of _course_ not. But after you've made 'em, you're silly not to +let 'em help you if they can. And if they want to. And if they don't +then they aren't really your friends, are they? It's a good way to +find out." + +Henry frowned a little. "What makes you think it would work?" + +"Human nature.... Now you just think it all over from the beginning. +All our friends come to the Orpheum _some_ night, don't they? They'd +go to _some_ picture, anyway, but they come to the Orpheum for two +reasons--one's because it's a nice house now, and the other's because +it's ours. And sometimes they're in time to get good seats, and +sometimes they aren't. Well, we aren't asking any special favour of +them; we're just making sure that if they all come the same night, +they'll have the same seats, time after time. And they'll like it, +Henry." + +"But to be brutally frank, I still don't see where _we_ get off any +better." + +"You wait.... So we sell for just one particular performance--say the +8.45 one, one night a week--season tickets. Boxes, loges, and some of +the orchestra seats. And it would be like opera; if they couldn't +always come, they couldn't return their tickets, but they could give +them to somebody else. And that night we'd have special music, and--" + +"Confirming today's conversation, including brutal frankness as per +statement, I still don't see--" + +"Why, you silly. It'll be _Society Night_! And I don't care whether +it's movies or opera, if you make a thing fashionable, then it gets +_every_body--the fashionable ones, and then the ones who _want_ to be +fashionable, and finally the ones who know they haven't a ghost of a +chance, and just want to go and look at the others!" + +Henry laboured with his thoughts. "Well, granted that we could herd +the hill crowd in there, and all that, I _still_ don't--" + +"Why, Henry darling! Because we'd make it _Monday_ night--that's our +worst night in the whole week, ordinarily--and have _all_ reserved +seats that night, and then of course we'd raise the prices!" + +"Oh!" said Henry. "Now I get it. I thought it was just swank." + +"And it's true--it's _true_ that if you get people to thinking there's +something exclusive about a shop, or a hotel, or a club, or even a +theatre, they'll pay _any_ amount to get in. And _our_ friends don't +care when they come, and they'll _love_ all sitting together in the +boxes, or even in the orchestra." + +"Who was Methuselah's wife?" asked Henry, irrelevantly. + +"Why, he had several, didn't he?" + +"Cleopatra, Portia, Minerva, Nemesis, and the Queen of Sheba," said +Henry, "and you're all five in one package. I retract everything I +said. And if I may be permitted to kiss the hem of your garment, to +show I'm properly humbled, why--in plain English, that idea has a full +set of molars!" + +He left the mechanics of it to Anna, who merely conferred with Bob +Standish, and then with one of her girl-friends, and sent out a little +circular among the high elect; but even Anna was amazed at the prompt +response. The response was due partly to friendship, and partly to +convenience, but whatever the reason, Anna brought in checks for a +hundred season-tickets, and turned the worst night of the week into +the best. As she had sensed, because the insiders of society were +willing to commit themselves to Monday, the outsiders would have paid +four times, instead of merely double, to be there, too. It was +socially imperative. + +"That boosts us up another fifty a week," said Henry appreciatively. +"And we must have a thousand in the bank, haven't we?... Say, Anna, +this bread and cheese racket is all right when you can't afford +anything else, but honestly, won't you just get a cook? I don't care +if she's rotten, but to think of you giving those dishes a sitz-bath +twice a day--" + +"Not yet, dear. We aren't _nearly_ out of the woods. Society Night's +helped a lot, but we aren't averaging over two hundred and twenty yet, +are we? That's eighty a week short. So if we don't think up some more +schemes, why, what we're saving now'll have to be our capital _next_ +year." + +"But when a man has this much income--" + +"Yes, and you owe ten thousand on a mortgage, and the tax bills +haven't come in yet, and you'll have an income tax to pay.... We'll +save awhile longer." + +It was greater heroism than he realized, for she had never lost, for a +single instant, her abhorrence of the kitchen; nor was she willing to +cater to her prejudice, and work with only the tips of her fingers. +She had two principal defences--she wore rubber gloves, and she +sang--but whenever she had to put her hands into greasy water, +whenever she scrubbed a kettle, whenever she cleaned the sink, a +series of cold chills played up and down her spine as fitfully as a +flame plays on the surface of alcohol. She detested every item which +had to do with that kitchen; and yet, to save Henry the price of a +cook--now seventy dollars a month--she sacrificed her squeamishness. +There were nights when she simply couldn't eat--she couldn't draw a +cloud over her imagination, and forget what the steak had looked like, +and felt like, uncooked. There were six days in seven when the mere +sight of blackened pots and pans put her nerves on edge. But she +always remembered that Henry was supposed to be irresponsible, and +that a penny in hand is worth two in prospect; so that she sang away, +and tried to dispel her thoughts of the kitchen by thinking about the +Orpheum. + +It was in early December that she conceived the Bargain Matinee, +which wasn't the ordinary cut-price performance, but the adaptation of +an old trick of the department stores. The Tuesday and Friday +matinees were the poorest attended, so that Anna suggested--and +Henry ordered--that beginning at half past four on Tuesdays and +Fridays, the fifty-cent seats were reduced at the rate of a cent a +minute. In other words, the Orpheum challenged the public to buy its +entertainment by the clock; a person who came a quarter hour late +saved fifteen cents, and the bargain-hunter who could find a vacant +seat at twenty minutes past five could see the last two reels for +nothing. It didn't bring in a tremendous revenue, but it caught the +popular fancy, and it was worth another thirty dollars a week. + +And Anna discovered, too, that the unfinished second story of the +theatre had possibilities. She had it plastered and gaily papered, she +put up a frieze of animals from Noah's ark; she bought toys and games +and a huge sand-box--and for a nominal fee, a mother could leave her +angel child or squalling brat, as the case might be, in charge of a +kindergarten assistant, and watch the feature film without nervousness +or bad conscience. There was no profit in it, as a department, but it +was good advertising, and helped the cause. + +In the meantime Henry, who at this season of the year would ordinarily +have gone to Lake Placid for the winter sports or to Pinehurst for +golf, was watching the rise and fall of the box-office receipts as +eagerly as he would have watched the give and take of match-play in +tournament finals. He kept his records as perfectly, and studied them +with as much zest, as once he had kept and studied the records of the +First Ten in the tennis ranking, and of all teams and individuals in +first-class polo. To Henry, the Orpheum had long ceased to be a +kitchen; he had almost forgotten that a few months ago, his soul had +been corrugated with goose-flesh at the prospect of this probation. +Since August, he had done more actual work than in all his previous +life, and the return from it was approximately what his allowance had +been from Mr. Starkweather, but Henry had caught the spark of personal +ambition, and he wouldn't stop running until the race was over. He +wouldn't stop, and furthermore he wouldn't think of stopping. But now +and then he couldn't help visualizing his status when he did stop, or +was ruled off the track. + +He hadn't quite recovered, yet, from his surprise at the continuing +reaction of his friends. He was deeply touched by the realization that +even those who were most jocular were regarding him with new respect. +Instead of losing caste, he seemed to have risen higher than before; +certainly he had never been made to feel so sure of his place in the +affection of his own set. And almost more satisfactory than that, the +older men in the Citizens Club were treating him with increasing +friendliness, whereas in the past, they had treated him rather as an +amusing young comedian, to be laughed at, but not with. And finally, +he was flattered by the growing intimacy with Mr. Archer. + +"A year ago," Mr. Archer once said to him, "I used to think you were a +spoiled brat, Henry. Now I think you're--rather a credit to your +uncle." + +Henry grinned. "And I used to think some very disrespectful things +about you, and now I'd rather have you on my side than anybody I know. +I _must_ have been a raw egg." + +"You'll win out yet, my boy--Ted Mix to the contrary notwithstanding." + +"Oh, sure!" said Henry, optimistically. "I don't gloom much--only +fifteen minutes a day in my own room. I got the habit when I was +taking my correspondence course on efficiency." Even in these +occasional sessions of gloom, however, (and his estimate of time was +fairly accurate) he never felt any acute antagonism either towards his +aunt or towards Mr. Mix, he never felt as though he were in +competition with them. He was racing against time, and it was the +result of his own individual effort which would go down on the record. +As to his aunt, she had been perfectly consistent; as to Mr. Mix, +Henry didn't even take the trouble to despise him. He carried over to +business one of his principles in sport--if the other fellow wanted so +badly to win that he was willing to cheat, he wanted victory more than +Henry did, and he was welcome to it. After the match was over, Henry +might volunteer to black his eye for him, but that was a side issue. + +Mr. Mix had said to him, sorrowfully, at the Citizens Club: "One of +the prime regrets of my life, Henry, was that you--the nephew of my +old friend--should have suffered--should have been in a _position_ to +suffer--from the promotion of civic integrity." + +Henry laughed unaffectedly. "Yes," he said, "it must have raised +perfect Cain with you." + +"I don't like your tone, Henry. Do you doubt my word?" + +"Doubt it? After I've just sympathized with the awful torture you must +have gone through?... Tell me something; what's all this gossip I hear +about you and Aunt Mirabelle? Somebody saw you buggy-riding last +Sunday. Gay young dog!" + +Mr. Mix grew red. "Buggy-riding! Miss Starkweather was kind enough to +take me out to the lake in her car." + +"That's buggy-riding," said Henry, affably. "Buggy-riding's a generic +term. Don't blush. I was young myself, once." + +Mr. Mix fought down his anger. "You're very much of a joker, Henry. It +seems to run in the family. Your uncle--" + +"Yes, and Aunt Mirabelle, too." + +"What?" + +"Oh, yes," said Henry. "Aunt Mirabelle's a joker, too. She advised me +not to run the Orpheum in the first place; she'd rather have had me +trade it and go into something more respectable, and profitable. +Doesn't that strike you as funny? It does me." + +Mentally, Mr. Mix bit his lip, but outwardly he was ministerial. "I'm +afraid you're too subtle for me." + +"I was afraid of that myself." + +"Isn't business good?" His voice was solicitous. + +Henry was reminded of what Judge Barklay had twice expressed, and for +a casual experiment, he tried to plumb the depths of Mr. Mix's +interest. + +"Oh, with a few new schemes I've got, I guess I'll clean up eleven or +twelve thousand this year." + +Mr. Mix shook his head. "As much as that?" + +Henry inquired of himself why, to accompany a question which was +apparently one of mere rhetorical purport, Mr. Mix should have shaken +his head. The action had been positive, rather than interrogative. + +"Easy," said Henry. "Come in next week, and see how we're going to +turn 'em away. I've got a new pianist; you'll want to hear him. He +looks like a Sealyhan terrier, but he's got a repertoire like a +catalogue of phonograph records. I dare the audience to name anything +he can't play right off the bat--songs, opera, Gregorian chants, +sonatas, jazz--and if he can't play it, the person that asked for it +gets a free ticket." + +"So--to use a colloquialism--you're going very strong?" + +"To use another colloquialism," said Henry, "we fairly reek with +prosperity, and we're going to double our business. That is, unless +you Leaguers stop all forms of amusement but tit-tat-toe and +puss-in-the-corner." + +Mr. Mix smiled feebly. "One expects to be rallied for one's +convictions." + +Henry nodded, engagingly. "I certainly got rallied enough for mine. +That justice of the peace rallied me for twenty-five to start with, +and followed it up with twenty more.... But if you want my opinion, +Mr. Mix, you'll lay off trying to promote civic integrity with a +meat-ax. All you did with that Sunday row was to take a lot of money +away from the picture houses, and give it to the trolley company and +the White City--white when it was painted. And if you don't behave, I +won't vote for you next election." + +Mr. Mix ignored the threat. "Come to a meeting of the League some +time, Henry, and we'll give you a chance to air your views." + +He reported the interview to Anna, and she seemed to find in it the +material for reflection. She asked Henry if he thought that Mr. Mix +was deliberately making up to Mirabelle. Henry reflected, also. + + * * * * * + +In January, Henry had an interview with Mr. Archer, who went over his +books with a fine-tooth comb, and praised him for his accomplishment. + +"But it only goes to show how the best intentions in the world can get +all twisted up," said Mr. Archer, gravely. "Here you've done what you +were supposed to do--you've done it better than you were supposed to +do it--and then because of that cussed enforcement that neither your +uncle nor I ever dreamed about, you're liable to get punished just as +badly as if you'd made a complete failure. It's a shame, Henry, it's +a downright shame!" + +"We're packing 'em in pretty well," said Henry. "I figured out that if +we sold every seat at every performance we'd collect fourteen hundred +a week gross. We're actually taking in about eight fifty. That's a +local record, but it isn't good enough." + +"No, you seem to be shy about--three thousand to date. You've got to +make that up, and hit a still higher average for the next seven +months, and I'm blessed if _I_ can see how you're going to do it." + +"Oh, well, I'll have the theatre. That's something." + +"Yes, it'll bring you a good price. But not a half of what you +_should_ have had. One thing, Henry, I wish your uncle could know how +you're taking it. As far as I know, you haven't swung a golf club or +sat a horse for six months, have you?" + +"Oh, shucks!... When Uncle John went to a ball game, he always liked +to see a man run like fury on a fly ball. Nine times out of ten an +outfielder'd catch it and the batter'd get a big hoot from the +grand-stand. The other time he'd drop it, and the batter'd take two +bases. That's all I'm doing now. Playing the percentage. And golf +takes too much time--even if there weren't snow on the ground--and +stable feed's so high _I_ can't afford it. The fool horse would cost +more to feed than I do myself." + +"And even if the percentage beats you, you've got something you never +had before, Henry, and that's the solid respect of your community. +Everybody knows you hated this job. Everybody's back of you." + +"Up on the farm," said Henry, thoughtfully. "There was a field-hand +with a great line of philosophy. Some of it was sort of crude, +but--one day Uncle John was saying something about tough things we all +have to do, and this fellow chimed in and said: 'Yes, sir, every man's +got to skin his own skunk.'" + +Mr. Archer smiled and nodded. "Your year won't have been wasted, +Henry. And when it's over, if you want to get out of the picture +business, you'll find that you can get a dozen first-rate jobs from +men who wouldn't have taken you in as their office-boy a season +ago.... Give my love to your wife, Henry, and tell her for me that +I'm proud of you." + +"I'll tell her," said Henry, "but _I_ won't be proud until I've nailed +that skin over the barn-door." + + * * * * * + +On his way out, he dropped in for a moment to see Bob Standish. Bob +was at his old tricks again; and while his competitors in realty, and +insurance, and mortgage loans, made the same mistake that once his +classmates and instructors and the opposing ends and tackles had made, +and argued that his fair skin and his innocent blue eyes, his indolent +manner and his perfection of dress all evidenced his lack of wit and +stamina, he had calmly proceeded to chase several of those competitors +out of business, and to purchase their good-will on his own terms. It +was popularly said, in his own circle, that Standish would clear a +hundred thousand dollars his first year. + +He winked lazily at Henry, and indicated a chair. "Set!" said +Standish. "Glad you came in. Two things to ask you. Want to sell? +Want to rent?" + +"If you were in my shoes, would you sell, Bob?" + +"I can get you twenty-eight thousand." + +"That's low." + +"Sure, but everybody knows you've got a clientele that nobody else +could get. Are you talking?" + +"I--guess not just yet." + +"Want to rent? I just had a nibble for small space; you could get +fifty a month for that attic you're using for a nursery." + +"I--hardly think so, Bob. That's a pet scheme of Anna's, and besides, +we need it. It's good advertising." + +His friend's eyes were round and childlike. "Made any plans for the +future, Henry? Know what you'll do if you stub your toe?" + +"Sell out and strike you for a job, I guess." + +"Don't believe it would work, old man." + +"Don't you think so?" + +"One pal boss another? Too much family." + +Henry looked serious. "I'm sorry you think so. _I_ wouldn't have +kicked." + +"No, I'm afraid I couldn't give you a job, old dear. I like you too +well to bawl you out. But maybe we'll do business together some other +way." + +As he drove his tin runabout homeward, Henry was unusually downcast. +He didn't blame Standish--Standish had showed himself over and over +to be Henry's best friend on earth. But it was dispiriting to +realize how Standish must privately appraise him. Henry recalled the +justification, and grew red to think of the ten years of their +acquaintance--ten years of continuous achievement for Standish, and +only a few months of compulsory display for himself. But he wished +that Standish hadn't thrown in that last remark about doing +business together some other way. That wasn't like Bob, and it hurt. +It was too infernally commercial. + +He found the apartment deserted. His shout of welcome wasn't answered: +his whistle, in the private code which everybody uses, met with dead +silence. Henry hung up his hat with considerable pique, and lounged +into the living-room. What excuse had Anna to be missing at the +sacred hour of his return? Didn't she know that the happiest moment of +his whole day was when she came flying into his arms as soon as he +crossed the threshold? Didn't she know that as the golden pheasants +fled further and further into the thicket of unreality, the more +active was his need of her? He wondered where she had gone, and what +had kept her so late. Was this a precedent, and had the first veneer +of their companionability worn off so soon--for Anna? + +A new apprehension seized him, and he hurried from room to room to see +if instead of censuring Anna, he ought to censure himself. There were +so many accidents that might have happened to her. Women have been +burned so severely as to faint: they have drowned in a bathtub: they +have fallen down dumb-waiter shafts: they have been asphyxiated when +the gas-range went out. And to think that only a moment ago, he had +been vexed with her. The sight of each room, once so hideously +commonplace, now so charming with Anna's artistry and the work of her +own hands--her beautiful hands which ought to be so cared for--filled +him with contrition and fresh nervousness. + +No, she had escaped these tragedies--yet she was missing. Missing, +but now half an hour late. And downtown there were dangerous +street-crossings, and dangerous excavations, and reckless motorists.... +Once in a while a structural-iron worker dropped a rivet from the +seventh story; and there were kidnappers abroad.... The key turned in +the lock, and Henry dropped noiselessly into a chair, and caught up +day-before-yesterday's paper. + +He greeted her tenderly, but temperately. "Well, where've _you_ +been?" + +She had to catch her breath. "Oh, my _dear_, I've had the most +_wonderful_ time! I've--oh, it's been perfectly gorgeous! And I've got +it! I've got it!" + +He had never seen her keyed to such a pitch, and manlike, he attempted +to calm her instead of rising to her own level. "Got what? St. Vitus' +dance?" + +"_No!_ The scheme! The scheme we were looking for!" + +Henry discarded his paper. "Shoot it." + +She waved him off. "Just wait 'till I can breathe.... Do you remember +what you told me a long time ago about a talk you had with your aunt? +And she said bye-and-bye you'd see the writing on the wall?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, I've _seen_ it!" + +"Whereabouts?" + +"Wait.... And remember your talking to Mr. Mix, when he said you ought +to go to a League meeting and air your views?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, I went!" + +He gazed at her. "You what?" + +She nodded repeatedly. "It was a big public meeting. I was going past +Masonic Hall, and I saw the sign. So I went in ... oh, it was so +funny. The man at the door stared at me as if I'd been in a bathing +suit, or something, and he said to me in a sort of undertaker's voice: +'Are you one of us?' And I said I wasn't, but I was thinking about it, +and he said something about the ninety and nine, and gave me a blank +to fill out--only I didn't do it: I used it for something _lots_ +better: I'll show you in a minute--and then I sat down, and pretty +soon Mr. Mix got up to talk,--and you _should_ have seen the way your +aunt looked at him; as if he'd been a tin god on wheels--and he +bragged about what the League was doing, and how it had already +purified the city, but that was only a beginning--and what a lot more +it was going to do--oh, it was just _ranting_--but everybody clapped +and applauded--only the man next to me said it was politics instead of +reform--and then he went on to talk about that ordinance 147, and what +it really meant, and how they were going to use it like a bludgeon +over the heads of wrong-doers, and all that sickening sort of +thing--and the more he talked the more I kept thinking.... My _dear_, +all that ordinance says--at least, all they _claim_ it says--is that +we can't keep open on Sunday for _profit_, isn't it?" + +Henry was a trifle dizzy, but he retained his perspective. "Yes, but +who'd want to keep open for charity?" + +She gave a little cry of exultation. "But that's _exactly_ what we +want to do! That's what we _are_ going to do. And they can't prevent +us, either. We're going to keep open for a high, noble purpose, and +not charge a cent. And the more I thought, and Mr. Mix bragged, the +more I ... so I wrote it all down on the back of that blank the man +gave me--and there it is--and _I_ think it's perfectly gorgeous--even +if it _is_ mine. _Now_ who's Methuselah's wife?" + +On the back of the blank there was written, in shaky capitals, what +was evidently intended as the copy for an advertisement. She watched +Henry eagerly as he read it, and when at first she could detect no +change in his expression, her eyes widened, and her lips trembled +imperceptibly. Then Henry, half-way down the page, began to grin: and +his grin spread and spread until his whole face was abeam with joy. He +came to the last line, gasped, looked up at Anna, and suddenly +springing towards her, he caught her in his arms, and waltzed her +madly about the living-room. + +When he released her, her hat was set at a new and rakish angle, and +she had lost too many hair-pins, but to Henry she had never looked +half so adorable. + +"Of course," he panted, "everybody else'll do it too, as soon as +we've showed 'em how--" + +"What--what difference does _that_ make?" + +"That's right, too...." He fairly doubled himself with mirth. "Can't +you just see Mix's face when he sees _this_ writing on the wall--of +the Orpheum?" + +"I--I've been seeing it all afternoon. When can we start?" + +"Right away. _Now._" He stopped, rigid. "No, we won't either. No we +_won't_. First, we've got to see the Judge--we've got to make sure +there's no flaw in it. And _then_--we won't _let_ anybody copy us!" + +"But how can you stop them?" + +Henry was electric. "What's a movie theatre worth on Sunday? When they +can't give a show anyway? I'll rent every house in town for every +Sunday from now 'till August! I'll have to go slow, so nobody'll +suspect. It may take a month, or _two_ months, but what do we care? +We'll play it sure. It won't cost too much, and we've got the cash in +the bank. We've--" He paused again, and looked down at her, and his +voice fell a semi-tone. "I don't know where I get all this _we_ stuff. +_I_'d have spent two-thirds of it by this time. You're the one that's +saved it--and earned it too, by gosh!" He lifted her hands, and while +she watched him, with shining eyes, he deliberately kissed the tip of +each of her ten fingers. "_That's_ where the money's come from," said +Henry, clearing his throat. "Out of dish-water. Only tonight we're +going out to a restaurant and eat ourselves logy, and you won't wash a +damn dish. It's my party." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Miss Mirabelle Starkweather lifted up her cup of tea, and with the +little finger of her right hand stiffly extended to Mr. Mix's good +health. Mr. Mix, sitting upright in a gilded chair which was three +sizes too small for him, bowed with a courtliness which belonged to +the same historical period as the chair, and also drank. Over the rim +of his cup, his eyes met Mirabelle's. + +"Seems to me you've got on some kind of a new costume, haven't you?" +asked Mr. Mix gallantly. "Looks very festive to me--very." + +For the first time since bustles went out of fashion, Miss Starkweather +blushed; and when she blushed, she was quite as uncompromising about +it as she was about everything else. It wasn't that she had a grain +of romance in her, but that she was confused to be caught in the act of +flagging a beau; to hide her confusion, she rose, and went over to the +furthest window and flung it wide open. The month was February, and +the air was chill and raw, but Mirabelle could think of no other +pretext for turning her back and cooling her cheeks. And yet, +although she would have perjured herself a thousand times before she +would admit it, she felt a certain strange, spring-like pleasure to +know that Mr. Mix was only pretending to be deceived. + +"Oh, my, no," she said over her shoulder. "I've had this since the +Flood." + +Mr. Mix had also risen, to hand her back to her seat, and now he stood +looking down at her. She was wearing a gown of rustling, plum-coloured +taffeta, with cut-steel buttons; and at her belt there was a Dutch +silver châtelaine which had been ultra-smart when she had last worn +it. Vaguely, she supposed that it was ultra-smart today, and that was +the reason she had attached it to her. From the châtelaine depended a +silver pencil, a gold watch, a vinaigrette with gold-enamelled top, +and a silver-mesh change-purse. At her throat, she had a cameo, and on +her left hand, an amethyst set in tiny pearls. Mr. Mix, finishing the +inventory, seated himself and began to tap one foot on the floor, +reflectively. He was a man of perception, and he knew warpaint when he +saw it. + +"Makes you look so much younger," said Mr. Mix, and sighed a little. + +"Don't be a fool," said Miss Starkweather, and to dissemble her +pleasure, she put an extra-sharp edge on her voice. "I don't wear +clothes to make me look younger; I wear 'em to cover me up." + +"That's more than I can say for the present generation." + +"Ugh!" said Miss Starkweather. "Don't speak of it! Shameless little +trollops! But the _worst_ comment you could make about this present +day is that men _like_ it. They _like_ to see those disgraceful +get-ups. They _marry_ those girls. Beyond _me_." + +Mr. Mix sneezed unexpectedly. There was a cold draught on the back of +his neck, but as Mirabelle said nothing about closing the window, he +hesitated to ask permission. "I've always wondered what effect it +would have had on your--public career--if you hadn't preferred to +remain single." + +"My opinions aren't annuals, Mr. Mix. They're hardy perennials." + +"I know, but do you think a married woman ought to devote herself +entirely to public affairs? Shouldn't she consider marriage almost a +profession in itself?" + +"Well, I don't know about that. Duty's duty." + +"Oh, to be sure. But would marriage have interfered with your career? +Would you have let it? Or is marriage really the higher duty of the +two?" + +"There's something in that, Mr. Mix. I never did believe a married +woman ought to be in the road _all_ the time." + +"It _was_ a question of your career, then?" + +Mirabelle put down her cup. "Humph! No, it wasn't. Right man never +asked me." + +Mr. Mix's mind was on tiptoe. "But your standards are so +lofty--naturally, they _would_ be." He paused. "I wonder what your +standard really is. Is it--unapproachable? Or do you see some good in +most of us?" + +Mirabelle sat primly erect, but her voice had an unusual overtone. +"Oh, no, I'm not a ninny. But good husbands don't grow on goose-berry +bushes. If I'd ever found a man that had the right principles, and the +respect of everybody, and not too much tom-foolishness--a good, solid, +earnest citizen I could be proud of--" + +Mr. Mix interpolated a wary comment. "You didn't mention money." + +She sniffed. "Do I look like the kind of a woman that would marry for +money?" + +"And in all these--I mean to say, haven't you ever met a man who +complied with these conditions?" + +She made no intelligible response, but as Mr. Mix watched her, he was +desperately aware that his moment had come. His next sentence would +define his future. + +He was absolutely convinced, through his private source of information, +that Henry was due to fall short of his quota by four or five +thousand dollars; nothing but a miracle could save him, and Mr. Mix +was a sceptic in regard to miracles. He was positive that in a brief +six months Miss Starkweather would receive at least a half million; and +Mr. Mix, at fifty-five, wasn't the type of man who could expect to +have lovely and plutocratic débutantes thrown at his head. He +believed--and his belief was cousin to a prayer--that Mirabelle was +absorbed in reform only because no one was absorbed in Mirabelle. +Indeed, she had implied, a few moments ago, that marriage would cramp +her activities; but it was significant that she hadn't belittled the +institution. Perhaps if she were skilfully managed, she might even be +modernized. Certainly she had been content, so far, to be guided by +Mr. Mix's conservatism. He hoped that he was right, and he trusted +in his own strategy even if he were wrong. And every day that he +continued moderate in his public utterances, and in his actions, he +was a day nearer to the golden ambition of an elective office. + +He was threatened with vertigo but he mastered himself, and drew a +long, long breath in farewell to his bachelorhood. + +"You have heartened me more than you know," said Mr. Mix, with +ecclesiastical soberness. "Because--it has been my poverty--which has +kept me silent." He bent forward. "Mirabelle, am _I_ the right man?" +Almost by sheer will-power, he rose and came to her, and took her +hand. She shrank away, in maiden modesty, but her fingers remained +quiescent. Mr. Mix sneezed again, and stooped to kiss her cheek, but +Mirabelle avoided him. + +"No," she said, with a short laugh. "That don't signify--I don't +approve of it much." She wavered, and relented. "Still, I guess it's +customary--Theodore." + + * * * * * + +Before he left her, they had staged their first altercation--it +could hardly be called a quarrel, because it was too one-sided. +Mirabelle had asked him without the slightest trace of shyness, to +telephone the glad tidings to the _Herald_; and of a sudden, Mr. +Mix was afflicted with self-consciousness. Unfortunately, he couldn't +give a valid reason for it; he couldn't tell her that illogically, +but instinctively, he wanted to keep the matter as a locked +secret--and especially to keep it locked from Henry Devereux--until +the minister had said: Amen. He admitted to himself that this was +probably a foolish whim, a needless precaution, but nevertheless it +obsessed him, so that he tried to argue Mirabelle away from the +_Herald_. His most cogent argument was that the announcement might +weaken their position in the League--the League might be too much +interested in watching the romance to pay strict attention to reform. + +"Humph!" said Mirabelle. "_I_'m not ashamed of being congratulated. +Are you? But if you're so finicky about it, I'll do the telephoning +myself." + +Whereupon Mr. Mix went back to his room, and drank two highballs, and +communed with himself until long past midnight. + +In the morning, with emotions which puzzled him, he turned to the +society column of the _Herald_; and when he saw the flattering +paragraph in type,--with the veiled hint that he might be the next +candidate for Mayor, on a reform ticket--he sat very still for a +moment or two, while his hand shook slightly. No backward step, now! +His head was in the noose. He wondered, with a fresh burst of +self-effacement, what people would say about it. One thing--they +wouldn't accuse him of the truth. Nobody but Mr. Mix himself knew the +whole truth--unless perhaps it were Henry Devereux. Henry had +developed a knowing eye. But Henry didn't count--Henry was beaten +already. Still, if Henry should actually come out and accuse Mr. Mix +of--why, what _could_ Henry accuse him of? Simply marrying for money? +If it didn't make any difference to Mirabelle, it certainly didn't to +Mr. Mix. And what booted the rest of the world? Why should he concern +himself with all the petty spite and gossip of a town which wasn't +even progressive enough to have an art museum or a flying field, to +say nothing of a good fight-club? Let 'em gossip.... But just the +same, he wished that Mirabelle had been willing to keep the engagement +a secret. Mr. Mix was sure to encounter Henry, once in a while, at the +Citizens Club, and he didn't like to visualize Henry's smile. + +He was in the act of tossing away the paper when his attention was +snatched back by a half-page advertisement; in which the name of the +Orpheum Theatre stood out like a red flag. Mr. Mix glanced at it, +superciliously, but a moment later, his whole soul was strung on it. + + THE ORPHEUM + Educational Motion Pictures + FREE! FREE! FREE! + Every Sunday afternoon and evening + ESPECIALLY HIGH-CLASS ENTERTAINMENT + of instructive and educational features + With Sacred Music + ABSOLUTELY FREE + +to all those who present at the door ticket-stubs from the previous +week's performances (bargain matinees excepted) showing a total +expenditure of Three Dollars. + + IN OTHER WORDS + + Two people coming twice during the week, + in 75 cent seats, come FREE Sunday + + Three people coming twice during the week, + in 50 cent seats, come FREE Sunday + + A PURELY VOLUNTARY COLLECTION + will be taken up and divided between + The Associated Charities + The Starving Children of Belgium _and_ + The Chinese Famine Fund + This Sunday + + THE SWORDMAKER'S SON--an absorbing drama + of Biblical days + Next Sunday + BEN-HUR, in seven reels + + NO ADMISSION FEE BEING CHARGED, AND + ALL VOLUNTARY CONTRIBUTIONS BEING DEVOTED + TO CHARITY, THIS ENTERTAINMENT + DOES _NOT_ FALL WITHIN ANY CITY ORDINANCE + PROHIBITING SUNDAY PERFORMANCES + + THE ORPHEUM + Motion Pictures + +Mr. Mix, goggle-eyed, jumped for the telephone, and called the City +Hall, but as soon as the Mayor was on the wire, Mr. Mix wrestled down +his excitement, and spoke in his embassy voice. "Hello--Rowland? This +is Mix. I want to ask you if you've seen an ad of the Orpheum Theatre +in this morning's paper?... Well, what do you propose to do about +it?" + +The Mayor answered him in a single word: Mr. Mix started, and gripped +the receiver more tightly. "_Nothing!_... Why, I don't quite get you +on that.... It's an open and shut proposition--No, I most certainly +am _not_ trying to make a pun; I'm calling you up in my official +capacity. That's the most flagrant, barefaced attempt to evade a +law--Why, an _idiot_ could see it! It's to drive the crowd into the +Orpheum during the week, so that--" + +He listened, with increasing consternation. "_Who_ says it isn't a +violation? Who? The City Attorney?" Mr. Mix was pale; and this was +quite as uncommon as for his fiancée to blush. "When did he say so?... +What's that? What's his grounds?... Repeat it, if you don't +mind--Practically a charitable performance by _invitation_--" + +"Why, sure," said the Mayor. He realized perfectly that Mr. Mix had +the League and another thousand people of small discernment behind +him, but the Mayor didn't want to be re-elected, and did want to +retire from politics. "The Orpheum doesn't say a fellow that comes +Sunday has got to prove _he_ spent the money for the tickets, does it? +Anybody that's got the stubs can come. They're just as much +invitations as if they were engraved cards sent around in swell +envelopes. If you've got one--whether you paid for the _invitation_ +or not, or if you got it in the mail or picked it up on the street, +you can go on in. And as long's no money's taken in over the counter, +the City Attorney says it's O.K. Of course, you can petition the +Council, if you want to." + +Mr. Mix was licking his lips feverishly. "I'm obliged to you for your +advice. We _will_ petition the Council--I'll have it signed, sealed +and delivered by noon today.... And if that don't do, we'll apply for +an injunction.... And we'll carry this to the _Governor_ before we're +done with it, Rowland, and you know what state laws we've got to +_compel_ a Mayor of an incorporated city to do his duty!... This is +where we part company, Rowland. You'll hear from me later!" He slammed +down the receiver, rattled the hook impetuously, and called +Mirabelle's number. + +"Mirabelle ... good-morning; have you ... No, I'm not cross at you, +but--Oh! Good-morning, _dear_.... This is important. Have you seen the +Orpheum's ad in the _Herald_? Isn't that the most barefaced thing you +ever _saw_? Don't we want to rush in and--" + +She interrupted him. "Why, no, not when it's for charity, do we?" + +Mr. Mix nearly dropped the receiver. "Charity! Charity your +grandmother! It's a cheap trick to attract people during the week, so +they'll have a show on Sunday in _spite_ of the law!" + +"Oh, I don't doubt there's _some_ catch in it. That's Henry all over. +But if the League went out and interfered with an educational and sort +of religious program with a collection for charity, we'd----" + +"Yes, but my dear woman, would we sanction a _dance_ for charity? A +poker-party? A wine-supper? We----" + +"But there won't be any dancing or drinking or card-playing at the +Orpheum, will there?" + +He lost his temper. "What's the matter with you? Can't you _see_--?" + +"No, but I can hear pretty well," said Mirabelle. "I'm not deaf. And +seems to me--" She sniffled. "Seems to me you're making an awful funny +start of things, Theodore." + +"My dear girl--" + +"What?" + +"I just said 'my dear girl.' I----" + +"Say it again, Theodore!" + +To himself, Mr. Mix said something else, but for Mirabelle's benefit, +he began a third time. "My dear girl, it's simply to evade the law, +and----" + +"But Theodore, if we lift one finger to stop the raising of money for +the poor starving children in foreign countries, we'd lose every scrap +of influence we've gained." + +"But this means that _all_ the theatres can open again!" + +"Well, maybe you'd better get to work and frame the amendment to +Ordinance 147 we've been talking about, then. And the new statute, +too. We've wasted too much time. But under the old one, we can't go +flirting with trouble. And if all they do is show pictures like +Ben-Hur, and The Swordmaker's Son, why ... don't you see? We just +won't notice this thing of Henry's. We can't afford to act too +narrow.... And I'm not cross with you any more. You _were_ all worked +up, weren't you? I'll excuse you. And I could just _hug_ you for being +so worked up in the interests of the League. I didn't understand.... +When are you coming up to see me? I've been awfully lonesome--since +yesterday." + +Mr. Mix hung up, and sat staring into vacancy. Out of the wild tumult +of his thoughts, there arose one picture, clear and distinct--the +picture of his five thousand dollar note. Whatever else happened, he +couldn't financially afford, now or in the immediate future, to break +with Mirabelle. She would impale him with bankruptcy as ruthlessly as +she would swat a fly; she would pursue him, in outraged pride, until +he slept in his grave. And on the other hand, if certain things _did_ +happen--at the Orpheum--how could he spiritually afford to pass the +remainder of his life with a militant reformer who wouldn't even have +money to sweeten her disposition--and Mr. Mix's. He wished that he had +put off until tomorrow what he had done, with such conscious +foresight, only yesterday. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Now although Mr. Mix had shaken with consternation when he saw the +advertisement of the Orpheum, Henry shook with far different +sentiments when he saw the announcement in eulogy of Mr. Mix. It was +clear in his mind, now, that Mr. Mix wasn't the sort of man to marry +on speculation; Henry guessed that Mirabelle had confided to him the +terms of the trust agreement, and that Mr. Mix (who had shaken his +head, negatively, when Henry estimated his profits) had decided that +Henry was out of the running, and that Mirabelle had a walkover. The +guess itself was wrong, but the deduction from it was correct; and +Henry was convulsed to think that Mr. Mix had shown his hand so early. +And instead of gritting his teeth, and damning Mr. Mix for a +conscienceless scoundrel, Henry put back his head and laughed until +the tears came. + +He hurried to show the paragraph to Anna, but Anna wouldn't even +smile. She was a woman, and therefore she compressed her lips, +sorrowfully, and said: "Oh--_poor_ Miss Starkweather!" To which Henry +responded with a much more vigorous compression of his own lips, and +the apt correction: "Oh, no--poor Mr. Mix!" + +He carried his congratulations to his aunt in person; she received +them characteristically. "Humph!... Pretty flowery language.... Well, +you don't need to send me any present, Henry; I didn't send _you_ +one." + +"When's the happy event to be?" he inquired, politely. + +"June. Fourth of June." + +"And do you know where you're going for your honeymoon?" + +"I don't like that word," said Mirabelle. "It sounds mushier than a +corn-starch pudding. And besides, it's nobody's business but his and +mine, and I haven't even told _him_ yet. I'm keeping it for a +surprise." + +"Oh!" said Henry. "That's rather a novel idea, isn't it?" + +"Humph!" said Mirabelle, dryly. "The whole thing's novel, isn't it? +But I'm obliged for your coming up here, Henry. I didn't suppose you +had enough interest in family matters to be so nosey, even." + +Later in the week, Henry encountered Mr. Mix, and repeated his +congratulations with such honeyed emphasis that Mr. Mix began to +stammer. "I appreciate all you say, Henry--but--come here a minute." +He drew Henry into a convenient doorway. "I'm sort of afraid, from the +way you act, there's something in the back of your mind. I've thought, +sometimes, you must have lost sight of the big, broad principles +behind the work I'm doing. I've been afraid you've taken my work as if +it was directed personally against _you_. Not that I've ever heard you +_say_ anything like that, but your manner's been ... well, anyway, +you're too big a man for that, Henry. Now about this new scheme of +yours. It's my feeling that you're dodging the law by sliding in the +back door. It's my official duty to look into it. Only if we _do_ have +to put a stop to it, I want you to realize that I sympathize with any +personal loss you may have to suffer. Personally, I'm grieved to have +to take this stand against John Starkweather's nephew. You understand +that, don't you?" + +Henry nodded assent. "Why, certainly. Your motives are purer than the +thoughts of childhood. The only thing I _don't_ understand is what all +this has to do with my congratulating you?" + +"Oh, nothing whatever. Nothing at all. It was just your manner." + +"Let's come out in the open, then. How do you think you _could_ put a +stop to it? Because if you could, why, I'll save you the trouble." + +Mr. Mix hesitated. "You were always an original young man, Henry. But +if it's my duty to stop your show, why should I give away my plans? So +you could anticipate 'em?" + +"No, I've done that already." + +"Now, Henry, that sounds too conceited to be like _you_." + +"Oh, no, it's only a fact. But here--I'll run through the list for +you. Have me pinched under the ordinance? Can't be done; the City +Attorney's said so, and I saw the Chief of Police was in on it. Get an +injunction? You can't do that either, because--" + +"Why can't we?" + +"Because I've got one already." + +Mr. Mix's jaw dropped. "What's that? _How_ could you--" + +"Oh, I got Bob Standish--just as a citizen tax-payer--to apply for a +temporary injunction yesterday, to test it out. It's being argued this +morning. Don't you want to come over and hear it? If I lose, I won't +open next Sunday at all; and if I win, then the League can't get an +injunction later.... What else can you do?" + +"We may have other cards up our sleeves," said Mr. Mix, stiltedly. + +"Just the place I'd have looked for 'em," said Henry, but his tone was +so gentle and inoffensive that Mr. Mix only stared. + +He shook hands with Henry, and hurried over to the Court House, where +he arrived just in time to hear the grey-haired jurist say, +dispassionately: "Motion denied." + +Mr. Mix swabbed his face, and thought in lurid adjectives. He +wouldn't have dared, in view of Mirabelle's opinion, to ask for an +injunction on behalf of the League itself, but it had occurred to him +that he might arrange the matter privately. He could persuade one of +the old moss-backs that Mirabelle might be swayed by her relationship +to Henry (this struck him as the height of sardonic humour), and the +moss-back could go into Court as an individual, to enjoin the Sunday +performance as opposed to public policy. But Henry had outstripped +him; and furthermore, there was no question of judicial favour. The +Judge who had refused the application was no friend of Henry, or of +Judge Barklay. And Bob Standish's attorney, who by a fiction was +attacking Henry's position, had claimed that the Sunday show was +designed for profit, and that the price was merely collected in +advance. This would have been precisely Mr. Mix's thesis. Henry's own +lawyer had replied that since there was no advance in the price of +tickets during the week, there was no charge for Sunday. A ticket +during the week included an invitation. To be sure, one couldn't get +the invitation without the ticket, but where was the ordinance +violated? Would the Court hold, for example, that a grocer couldn't +invite to a lecture, for charity, on Sunday, every one who had +patronized his shop during the previous week? Would the Court hold +that an author couldn't invite to a public reading on Sunday, every +one who had bought his book on Saturday? + +The Court wouldn't. + +And Mr. Mix, who knew Henry's income to the nearest dollar, went home +and got a pencil, and covered sheet after sheet with figures. + +Presently, he sat back and laughed. Why, he had had his hysterics for +nothing! Henry couldn't overcome his handicap unless he jammed his +house to capacity from now until August. No theatre had even yet +accomplished such a feat. And it wasn't as though Henry had a monopoly +on this scheme; in another week, all his competitors would be open +Sundays, too, with strictly moral shows, and no money taken at the +door, and he would have the same competition as always. And yet, to be +perfectly safe, (for Henry was fast on his feet) Mr. Mix had better +frame his amendment to the ordinance, and set the wheels in motion. +With good luck, he could have Henry blanketed by April. + +That evening, Mirabelle found him more animated than usual; and more +lavish with compliments. + +Since he had first seen Henry's advertisement, Mr. Mix had been as +uncertain of his prospects as a child with a daisy; he had foreseen +that it was only a part of a very narrow margin of fortune which would +determine whether he was to be a rich man, poor man, beggar man--or +jilt. Now, however, his confidence was back in his heart, and when, on +Sunday afternoon, he placed himself inconspicuously in the window of +an ice-cream parlour, squarely opposite the Orpheum, it was merely to +satisfy his inquisitiveness, and not to feed his doubt. + +He had to concede that Henry was clever. Henry had introduced more +fresh ideas into his business than all his competitors in bulk. What a +customers'-man Henry would have been, if he had entered Mr. Mix's +brokerage office! Yes, he was clever, and this present inspiration of +his was really brilliant. Mr. Mix could see, clearly, just what Henry +had devised. He had devised a rebate: from a book-keeping standpoint +he was cutting his own prices during the week (for of course the +Sunday performance was costly to him) but he was cutting them in such +a subterranean manner that he wouldn't expect to lose by it. Palpably, +he thought that Orpheum stubs would become negotiable, that they would +pass almost as currency, that when people hesitated between the +Orpheum and any other theatre, they would choose the Orpheum because +of the Sunday feature. But did Henry imagine that his scheme was +copyrighted? Mr. Mix had to smile. Across the street, there were fully +a hundred people waiting for the doors to open ... the doors _had_ +opened, and the crowd was filing past the ticket-booth. The house +would be packed solid from now until late evening. But when _next_ +Sunday came, and all the other houses, relying upon Henry's triumph +over the City Attorney and the District Court, stole Henry's +thunder.... It was to laugh. Week-day business would be spread thin, +as always; people could suit their own choice, and have the same +Sunday privilege. And this would knock all the profit out of it. + +Mr. Mix retired, in the blandest of good-humour, and on Monday he +visited the manager of the largest picture house in town. + +"I suppose," he said, "you're going to follow the procession, aren't +you?" + +The manager looked at him queerly. "Well--no." + +"Really?" + +"No. That bird Devereux put it all over us like a tent." He snorted +with disgust. "Man from Standish's office come round here a while back +and asked for a price for the house for Sundays up to August. _We_ +thought it was for some forum, or something; and the damn place was +shut down anyway; so we made a lease. Next twenty Sundays for four +hundred and seventy-five beanos, cash in advance. Then it turns up +that Standish's office was actin' for Devereux." + +The bloom of apoplexy rose to Mr. Mix's cheeks. "You mean he--do you +know if he leased more theatres than _this_ one? Did he?" + +"_Did_ he! He signed up the whole damn Exhibitors' Association. +There's twenty-two houses in town, and he's tied up twenty-one and he +owns the other. Far's I can find out, it only cost him about six +thousand to get an air-tight monopoly on Sunday shows for the next six +months." + +Mr. Mix drew breath from the very bottom of his lungs. "What can +you--do about it?" + +"Do? What _is_ there to do? All we can do is put on an extra feature +durin' the week, to try and buck him _that_ way--and it won't pay to +do it. He's got a cinch. He's got a graft. And all the rest of us are +in the soup." + +Mr. Mix was occupied with mental arithmetic. "Tell me this--is it +going to pay him?" + +"Pay him!" echoed the manager scornfully. "Six thou for twenty weeks +is three hundred a week. Fifty a day. Twelve-fifty a performance. +Twelve-fifty calls for about twenty-five people. Don't you think he'll +draw that many new patrons, when he can give 'em on Sundays what +nobody else can? And everything over twenty-five'll be velvet. He'll +clean up two, three thousand easy and maybe more. What beats _me_ is +why he didn't get leases for the next hundred years. _We_ wouldn't +have had the sense to block him." + +"I'll tell you why," said Mr. Mix, choking down his passion. "Because +there's going to be a new ordinance. It'll deal with Sunday +entertainments. And it's going to prohibit any such horse-play as +this." He surveyed his man critically. "Does Henry Devereux belong to +your Association?" + +"No, he don't. And he won't either. We don't want him." + +"Then as long as you people can't keep open Sundays anyway," observed +Mr. Mix carelessly, "maybe you'd find it to your advantage to support +the Mix amendment when it gets up to the Council. It'll kill off any +such unfair competition as this." + +The manager shrugged his shoulders. "If it wasn't for your damn League +we'd _all_ be makin' money." + +"I'm sorry we don't all see this thing in the same light. But as long +as the rest of you _are_ out of it--" + +"Oh, I can see _that_.... And you and me both understand a little +about politics, I should imagine." He grinned wryly. "Never thought +I'd link up with any reform outfit--but why don't you mail me a copy +of your amendment, and I'll see how the boys take it." + +Mr. Mix agreed to mail a copy as soon as the final draft was +completed, and he was as good as his word. On the same evening, he +read the masterpiece to Mirabelle with finished emphasis. + +"It's perfect," she said, her eyes snapping. "It's perfect! Of course, +I wish you'd have made it cover more ground, but just as a Sunday law, +it's perfect. When are we going to offer it to the Council?" + +"Mirabelle," said Mr. Mix, "we've got to do some missionary work +first. And before you can do missionary work, whether it's for +religion or politics or reform, you've got to have a fund." + +"Fund? Fund? To get an ordinance passed? Why don't you walk in and +_hand_ it to 'em?" + +He shook his head. "I was in politics a good many years. We've got to +get out printed matter, we've got to spend something for advertising, +we've got to--approach some of the Councillors the right way." + +She sat up in horror. "Not--_bribe_ them!" + +"Oh, dear, no! You didn't think _that_ of me!" + +"No, but when you _said_--" + +"I said they had to be 'approached.' I didn't mean corruption; I meant +enlightenment." He rubbed his nose reflectively. "But the cost is +approximately the same." + +"Of course, I trust your judgment, Theodore, but ... how big a fund do +you suppose we'll want." + +"Oh, I should think five thousand would do it." + +"Five--! Theodore Mix, _how_ could you spend five thousand _dollars_ +for such a thing? There isn't that much in the treasury! There's +hardly _one_ thousand." + +"My dear, if I were in your place, I'd protect my ante. I'd--" + +"What's all that gibberish?" + +"I said," he corrected hastily, "we've got too much at stake to risk +any failure when a little money would guarantee success." + +"Would five thousand dollars guarantee it?" + +"If I had that much in cash, to spend here and there as I saw the need +of it--take one type of man out to dinner a few times, where I could +get close to him--loan another type fifty dollars if he asked me for +it (and some of 'em would)--hire detectives to shadow another type--" + +"Detectives!" + +"Yes. To check up their habits. Suppose we found a man gambling on the +sly; we'd hold that over his head and--" + +"Humph! I don't like it much, but in a good cause it may be +justifiable." + +"And leaflets and circulars and one thing and another.... But if I +have to go out and get permission from a finance committee before I +can let go of a dime, I can't do _any_thing. I'd have to have the +money so I could use it exactly as I needed it. And if I did, I'll bet +I could get support you never dreamed of. Get outside people to bring +pressure on the Council." He gazed at the ceiling. "Why, with a leeway +of five thousand, I'd even have the Exhibitor's Association with us. +I'd have--" + +"Think so?" + +"I _know_ so." + +"How?" + +"Because long before I was in the League, I was in politics. When I +say I know, I _know_. Of course, the Association's help would only go +to show that they see the light in respect to their own business--it +wouldn't cover all the whole scope of the amendment, but even so--" + +"Theodore, you know politics and I don't. But both of us know the +proverb about what you catch flies with. So we'll try both methods +together. You can put out the molasses, and I'll put out the vinegar; +and between us, we ought to get somewhere." + +"We can't fail," said Mr. Mix, sitting on needles. + +Mirabelle went over to her desk, and searched the pigeon-holes. "I've +been told, Theodore, by--people I consider very reliable--that in +August, dear John's money will be coming to me." This was the first +time that she had ever broached the delicate subject. "I always meant +to use some of it for the League." She had unearthed her check book, +and was writing words and figures as angular as herself. "So +really,--this is on account." She came over to hand him the check, and +after a slight hesitation, she stooped and pecked him on the forehead, +but immediately afterwards she relapsed into her consistently, +non-romantic character. "You better give me an itemized account of how +you spend it, though, Theodore. You better give me one every day. +We've got to be businesslike, even if we _are_--engaged." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +For two-thirds of a year, Henry Devereux had lived contrary to his +independent taste, and to his education. He had virtually cut himself +adrift from the people he liked and the pleasures he loved; his sole +luxury had been his membership in the Citizens Club; and he had +laboured far more diligently and with far less respite than his uncle +had ever intended. He had overcome great difficulties, of which the +most significant was his own set of social fetiches, and he had +learned his weaknesses by exercise of his strength. He had made new +friends, and brought the old ones closer to him--and this by virtue of +honest plugging, and determination. He was unassumingly proud of +himself, and he was prouder yet of Anna; he knew that the major +portion of his accomplishment--and especially that part of it which +had taken place within himself--was to be put down to Anna's credit. +But the spring was coming towards them, and Henry winced to think of +it. Heretofore, the message of spring, in Henry's estimation, had been +a welcome to new clothes, golf, horseback parties, and out-of-door +flirtations; this season, it meant to him a falling-off in the +motion-picture business. + +The spring was calling to him, but Henry had to discipline his ears. +His working hours were from eleven in the morning until midnight; he +sat, day after day, in his constricted office, and glued his mind upon +his problems. The Orpheum was still a sporting proposition to him, but +even in sport, there come periods in which the last atom of nerve and +will-power are barely sufficient to keep the brain in motion. Henry's +nerves were fagged, his muscles were twitching, the inside of his head +felt curiously heavy and red-hot; the spring was calling him, but he +didn't dare to listen. The spirit of his Uncle John Starkweather was +waiting to see if he came to the tape with his head down, and Henry +was going to finish on his nerve. + +As a matter of fact, he could easily have spared an hour of two each +day for exercise and recreation, but he wouldn't believe it. He +wouldn't yield to Anna when she implored him to get out of doors, to +freshen his mind and tame his muscles. + +The atmosphere of his office almost nauseated him; the endless parade +of petty details was almost unbearably irksome; the book-keeping part +of it alone was soul-disintegrating; but to Henry, ambition had become +a monomania, and to it he was ready to make every conceivable +sacrifice, including--if necessary--his health. There were days when +he told himself that he would pay a thousand dollars merely to have +green turf under his feet, blue sky above, and no worries in his +soul--but he wouldn't sacrifice an hour of supervision over his +theatre. There were days when he felt that he would give up his chance +of salvation if only he could go away with Anna, up into the wooded +country, for a week's vacation--but he wouldn't sacrifice a week from +the Orpheum guardianship. The spring was calling him--the golf course, +the bridle-paths, the lake, the polo--but Henry had put himself in +high speed forward, and there was no reverse. Then, too, he was +constantly thinking of Anna, who without the daily stimulus that +Henry had, was cheerfully performing the function of a domestic +drudge. One of his most frequently repeated slogans was that if Anna +could stick it out, he could. + +While the winter favoured it, his monopoly had brought him a splendid +return, but the first warm days had signalled a serious loss of +patronage, and Henry couldn't successfully combat the weather. The +weather was too glorious; it called away Henry's audiences, just +as it tried in vain to inveigle Henry. And then the monopoly had +been double-edged; it had been a good risk--and without it, he +wouldn't have had the slightest chance against the requirements--but +it had been _too_ perfect, too prominent. In the beginning, everybody +had hailed him as a Napoleon because he had vanquished his little +world of competitors; but now that his laurel was old enough to wilt, +he was receiving the natural back-lash of criticism. Naturally, his +personal friends were still delighted, the older men at the club were +still congratulating him for foresight and ingenuity, and Mr. +Archer was still complimentary and confident: but the great mass +of theatre-goers, and the mass of self-appointed arbiters of +business ethics, were pointing to him as a follower of the gods of +grasp and gripe. More disquieting than that, however, were the +indications of a new crusade, led by Mr. Mix, and directed against +the Council. The Mix amendment, which was so sweeping that it +prohibited even Sunday shows for charity, would automatically +checkmate Henry; and the worst of it was that money was being +spent with some effectiveness. Of course, the amendment wouldn't ever +be adopted _in toto_--it was too sweeping, too drastic--but even a +compromise on the subject of Sunday entertainments would be fatal. + +Despite the strain, he was outwardly as blithe and optimistic as +usual. When Anna pleaded with him to take a vacation, he either +laughed her off in his most jovial manner, or riposted that she needed +a vacation far more than he did, which may have been true; when Judge +Barklay attempted to reason with him, he responded with respectful +humour. He had seen victory slip within his grasp, and slip out of +it, so often that he was on the verge of complete demoralization, but +he thought that he alone was aware of it, and because of his pride, +Anna didn't disillusion him. + +Nor did Bob Standish disillusion him. Standish tried to bolster him up +with undergraduate slang, and to convey to Henry the fact that all the +hill-folk were solidly behind him, but he knew better than to come out +flat with commiseration. Then, too, Standish was conscious of a vague +cloud which had come up to blur their relationship. He didn't suspect +for an instant the true cause of it, which was his remark, some months +ago, that he wouldn't employ in his office a friend such as Henry; but +he felt it, and was keenly concerned about it. Nevertheless, his own +unselfish interest never faltered, and he waited patiently, because he +knew that between himself and Henry there could be no permanent +misunderstanding. + +Nor did Mr. Archer, Henry's firm friend and ally (insofar as Mr. +Archer could separate his personality into two separate entities, one +of which was ally, and the other was impartial trustee) disillusion +him, although Mr. Archer had also eyes to see with. On the contrary, +Mr. Archer put out numerous remarks which he intended as lifebuoys. + +"There was a directors' meeting of the Trust and Deposit the other +day, Henry, and somehow they got talking about your account. I +shouldn't wonder--if you ever wanted to change your business--if they +wouldn't give you the opportunity; and if they did, it wouldn't be so +very long before they'd invite you on the Board." + +Henry disparaged it. "What as--deputy assistant splinter?" + +"You've made rather a hit with the older crowd, Henry. And even if you +aren't a rich man by inheritance next August, I'm not worrying about +your future." + +"Neither am I. Not while I've got Anna to think up my best thoughts +for me." + +The lawyer nodded. "A girl in a thousand, Henry." + +"That's the worst insult I ever heard! The population of the world's +over two billion!" + +Mr. Archer laughed, but his eyes showed approval. "It's simply +something for you to keep in mind, my boy--about the bank. It's a +possible career, unless you want to go on with the Orpheum. Of course, +you'd have to start pretty low, at first, but you know as well as I do +that nobody's asked to come into _that_ bank unless he's well thought +of." + +Henry didn't repeat this conversation to Bob Standish, because he +thought it would sound too much like saying "Yah!" nor did he repeat +it to his wife, because he thought it would sound too egotistical; +but on the same day he collected another item of news which he +unhesitatingly shared with her. + +He said to Anna: "I saw something downtown that'll amuse you. Cigar +store with a sign in front: Trading Stamps, Premium Coupons, and +Orpheum Theatre Stubs Bought and Sold. If _that_ isn't a footprint on +the sands of time I'm going to get measured for glasses." + +She laughed a trifle recessively. "I'll be glad when it's all over, +though. Won't you?" + +Inspecting her, he realized with a little thrill of self-accusation, +that Anna had worn herself out; she hadn't had a day's freedom from +housework, and she had worked twice as hard as he thought necessary. +She was very tired, and she showed it; but he knew that when she +wanted the year to be over, she wasn't thinking of herself, but of +him. He paid her the compliment of accepting what she said, without +tossing it back as though she had meant it for herself. "Well, I +_told_ you I'd drag in the bearded lady and the wild man of Borneo, if +I had to. What's the matter; don't you like the show business?" + +"Of course, we didn't exactly go into it for _fun_." + +"I seem to remember your calling it a lark, though." + +"I didn't know it was going to be quite as awful as this." + +"Awful?" + +"You know what I mean--you're worn out, and you look _dreadfully_--and +I _didn't_ know we'd have to do so much--" She fumbled for the word. +"What is it when a man stands outside, and tries to make people come +in and look at the snake-charmer?" + +"Ballyhoo. Would you have wanted me to stay out of it, if you'd +known?" + +She deliberated. "It's funny--but I don't think I would. In a way, +it's been good for both of us. I'll just be glad when it's over.... +What sort of house did you have?" + +Henry put on his best smile. "Not too good. Fair." + +"If we should fall down, after all we've done--oh, we _can't_! Henry, +we just _can't_!" + +"I used to know a poem," he said, "that kept asking the question +'Where are the snows of yesteryear?' Well, if I could find out, and +have 'em shovelled back in the street, we'd be in a good position. But +as soon as the snow melted, so did the big crowds. I'll never look a +crocus in the face again. They've croaked us out of a couple of +hundred a week, gross." + +"If we _should_ fall down, do you know who I'd be sorry for? The +managers of the other theatres. We'd just have been dogs in the +manger. And every time I think about it, I don't feel nearly as smart +as I did last January. Of course, I suppose it was _fair_ enough, +but--" + +"Fair? Oh, yes. That sort of thing'll always be fair--as long as +there's any business. Queer, though, when you come to think of it. +_We_ hadn't any grudge against the other fellows; but they'd have +stolen our idea, so we had to protect it. If they'd stolen our ten +dollar bill, they'd have had to go to jail for it; but they could have +stolen an idea worth ten _thousand_, and we'd just have had to stand +back, and gibber. As long as _that's_ fair, then _we_ were fair." + +"I wonder," she said, "if all monopolists go through the same +thing--first, they get such a wonderful scheme that they hardly dare +to go to bed for fear they'll talk in their sleep: then they're crazy +for fear it won't work; then it _does_ work, and they think they're +the Lord's anointed; and bye-and-bye they look around and feel--sort +of apologetic." + +"Oh. Do _you_ feel apologetic?" + +"I'm looking around, anyway." + +"You'd better save your energy. Mix's amendment's coming up pretty +soon, and even if it doesn't pass, I don't see how we're going to +compete with this weather. It's so abominably beautiful that +it's--sickening." + +"Oh--Mix!" she said, scornfully. "It gives me the creeps just to hear +his name! He's a nasty hypocrite, and a sneak, and a--How long do you +suppose he'll be hurrying around with that pious air after he gets his +money? Why, he won't even stay in the League!" + +Henry grimaced. "You're wrong. If he gets his money, he _will_ stay in +the League, and I'll bet on it." + +There was a short silence. "Henry," she burst out, "everything +considered, I believe he wants your uncle's money more than we do!" + +"Whichever one of us gets it,--" said Henry grimly, "--He'll _earn_ +it!" + + * * * * * + +When he recalled his previous years of irresponsibility, he was +staggered to realize how little a fifty dollar bill had meant to him. +It had meant a casual request across the breakfast table; now, it +meant that seventy-five or a hundred people were willing to pay him a +few cents apiece for the result of his headaches; and the absence of +those people, and the failure of those receipts, meant the difference +between achievement and bitter downfall. + +He had risked everything on his monopoly, and added six thousand +dollars to his quota. For two months, he had carried the double load, +and beaten his schedule; in early May, he was falling behind at the +rate of fifty dollars a week. With twelve weeks ahead, he faced a +deficit of a paltry six hundred dollars--and the Mix amendment was +peeping over the horizon. + +He shaved down his expenses to the uttermost penny; he ruthlessly +discarded the last fraction of his class pride, and in emergency, to +save the cost of a substitute, acted in place of his own doorman. He +rearranged the lighting of the auditorium to save half a dollar a day. +When the regular pianist was ill, he permitted Anna, for an entire +fortnight, to play in his stead; and during that fortnight they ate +three meals a day in a quick-lunch restaurant. There was no economy so +trivial that he wouldn't embrace it; and yet his receipts hung +steadily, maddeningly, just below the important average. Meanwhile, +the subject of reform crept out again to the front page of the +morning papers. + +For nine months, Mr. Mix and Henry had occupied, mentally, the end +seats on a see-saw, and as Henry's mood went down, Mr. Mix's mood went +up. By strict fidelity to his own affairs, Mr. Mix had kept himself in +the public eye as a reformer of the best and broadest type, and he had +done this by winning first Mirabelle, and then the rest of the League, +to his theory that organization must come before attack. Needless to +say, he had found many impediments in the way of organization; +Mirabelle had often betrayed impatience, but Mr. Mix had been able, so +far, to hold her in check. He had realized very clearly, however, that +Mirabelle wasn't to be put off indefinitely; and he had been glad that +he had a readymade ruse which he could employ as a blinder whenever +she began to fidget. This ruse was his amendment; and although he +could no longer see any value in it for the purposes of his private +feud, yet he was passing it for two reasons; Mirabelle was one, and +the public was the other. Even a reformer must occasionally justify +his title; and besides, it wasn't the sort of thing which could +injure the majesty of his reputation. + +On this, then, Mr. Mix had laboured with unceasing diligence, and he +had spent Mirabelle's money so craftily that thirty five hundred +dollars had done the work of five thousand (and the balance had gone +into his own pocket, and thence into a disastrous speculation in +cotton), but as the year came into June, he told himself cheerfully +that amendment or no amendment, he was justified in buying Mirabelle a +wedding-ring. And when a belated epidemic of influenza rode into town, +on the wings of an untimely spell of weather, and the Health +Department closed all theatres for five days, Mr. Mix told himself, +further, that the end of his career as a reformer was in sight, and +that the beginning of his career of statecraft was just over the hill. +Once the minister had said "Amen," and once his bride had made him her +treasurer, and helped him into the Mayor's chair, the Reform League +was at liberty to go to the devil. + +Mirabelle had persisted in keeping the wedding-journey a surprise from +him. She had hinted at a trip which would dazzle him, and also at a +wedding gift which would stun him by its magnificence; Mr. Mix had +visions on the one hand, of Narragansett, Alaska or the Canadian +Rockies, and on the other hand, of a double fistful of government +bonds. Mr. Mix didn't dare to tease her about the gift, but he did +dare to tease her about the journey, and eventually she relented. + +"I'll tell you," said Mirabelle, archly. "We're going to the +convention." + +Mr. Mix looked blank. "Convention?" + +She nodded proudly. "The national convention of reform clubs, in +Chicago. Aren't you surprised?" + +Mr. Mix swallowed, and made himself smile, but it was a hazardous +undertaking. "Surprised? I--I'm--I'm knocked endways!" + +"You see," she said, "we'll be married on the fourth and be in Chicago +on the sixth and be home again on the fourteenth and the Council won't +vote on the amendment until the sixteenth. Could anything have been +nicer? Now, Theodore, you _had_n't guessed it, had you?" + +"Guessed it?" he stammered. "I should say not. I don't see how you +ever thought of it. It's--why, I'm paralyzed!" + +"You could be a little more enthusiastic without hurting yourself +any," she said suspiciously. + +"I was thinking. I used to fancy I was pretty good at making plans +myself, but this beats _me_. The way those dates all dovetail like the +tiles on a roof. I never heard of anything like it. Only--well, if you +_will_ be so quick at reading my mind, I was wondering if we ought to +leave town before the Council meets." + +"That's mighty unselfish of you, Theodore, but you said only a couple +of days ago you'd done all you could. And the Exhibitors'll still be +working--" + +"I don't believe they'll work any too hard. It's taken too long to get +under way. If the amendment passes, you see they'll only have the +advantage of six weeks of fair competition. I mean, Henry'd lose only +six weeks of his _un_fair competition. And then we've got to see about +getting new quarters for the League, when our Masonic Hall lease runs +out, and--" + +"But our advertising'll be running just the same, and the League'll +still have its public meetings, and all. And everywhere I go I hear +the same thing; the people really want this passed. And _any_body can +find us a new hall. I'll appoint somebody. No, you're just as +unselfish as you can be, but we'll be back in time. Truly, Theodore, +didn't you guess?" + +Much of the jauntiness had gone out of Mr. Mix, but he consoled +himself with the certainty that in another two months, he would be in +a position to become masterful. The week in Chicago would bore him +excessively, but after all, it was only a small part of a lifetime. He +reflected that to any prisoner, the last few days before release, and +freedom, are probably the hardest. + +"How could I, my dear?" + +"No, you must have thought I'd want you to traipse off on some +perfectly aimless, nonsensical trip like a pair of sentimental +idiots." + +"Oh, you know me better than that," he murmured. + +"Yes, but I didn't know how well you knew _me_. Sometimes I've been +afraid you think I'm too--gushing." + +"Oh, Mirabelle!" + +"Just because I chatter along to you as any innocent young girl +might--" + +She continued to chatter for some minutes, but Mr. Mix was absent-minded. +He had chewed the cud of his own virtue for too long a time, and it had +given him a sour stomach. He was thinking that if her gift to him were +in money (and from her hints he rather expected it) he might even manage +to find, in Chicago, a type of unascetic diversion which would remove the +taste of the convention from his spirit. But it was better to be safe +than sorry, and therefore Mr. Mix decided to make a flying trip to New +York, for his bachelor celebration. + +To Mirabelle he said that he was going to confer with his friend, the +head of the Watch-and-Ward Society. Mirabelle promptly volunteered to +go along too, but Mr. Mix told her, as delicately as he could, that it +wouldn't look proper, and Mirabelle, who worshipped propriety as all +gods in one, withdrew the suggestion. + +"But before you go," she said, "You've _got_ to do something about the +state-wide campaign. You've got to write the literature, anyway." + +Mr. Mix felt that he was protected by the calendar, and promised. + + * * * * * + +Before he went to New York, he wrote three pamphlets which were +marvels of circumlocution, as far as reform was concerned, and +masterpieces of political writing, as far as his own interests were +concerned. He had borrowed freely, and without credit, from the +speeches of every orator from Everett to Choate, and when he delivered +the manuscripts to Mirabelle, and went off on his solitary junket, he +was convinced that he had helped his own personal cause, and satisfied +the League, without risking the smallest part of his reputation. + +On his return, he stopped first at the Citizens Club, and when he came +into the great living-room he was aware that several members looked +up at him and smiled. Over in a corner, Henry Devereux and Judge +Barklay had been conversing in undertones; but they, too, had glanced +up, and their smiles were among the broadest. + +Mr. Mix had an uncomfortable intuition that something had blown. Could +he have been spotted, in New York, by any one from home? + +"What's the joke?" he inquired of the nearest member. + +"Got a new name for you--Pitchfork Mix." Mr. Mix spread a thin smile +over his lips. "Supposed to be funny, is it?" + +"Some folks think so." + +"Where'd it originate? Let me in on the joke." + +"Where _would_ it originate? You're some strenuous author--aren't you? +Didn't know you had that much acid in your system." + +"Author? Author?" + +From the table at his side, the man picked up three pamphlets. One was +entitled The Model Statute, the second was Local Problems, and the +third was Reform and Regeneration. To each of the three, Mr. Mix's +name was signed. He took them up, and scrutinized them closely. + +"Why, what's so remarkable about these?" + +"Well, that one on Local Problems isn't so bad, but you know, Mix, +when you come out in print and tell us that sooner or later you're +going to stop the manufacture and sale of playing-cards, and--" + +"What?" + +"And stop all public dancing, and--" + +Mr. Mix looked moonstruck. "Who ever said _that_?" + +"And hand us out sumptuary laws--regulate the length of women's skirts +and--" + +Mr. Mix caught his breath sharply. "Where's _that_? Where is it? Show +it to me! Show it to me!" + +Obligingly, the member showed him; and as Mr. Mix stared at the pages, +one by one, the veins in his cheeks grew purple. Mirabelle had edited +his manuscript,--thank Heaven she hadn't tampered with the Mix +amendment of the blue-law ordinance, which Mr. Mix had so carefully +phrased to checkmate Henry, without at the same time seeming to do +more than provide conservative Sunday regulation,--but in the other +articles Mirabelle had shovelled in a wealth of her own precious +thoughts, clad in her own bleak style, and as soon as he had read two +consecutive paragraphs, Mr. Mix knew that the worst wasn't yet to +come--it had arrived. + +The other man was amusedly calm. "Well, you're not going to deny you +wrote it, are you? Too bad, in a way, though. Oh, I don't blame you +for getting it off your chest, if you really mean it--a man might as +well come out in the open--but I'm afraid too many people'll think it +just funny." + +Mr. Mix produced a smile which was a sickly attempt to register +nonchalant poise. "What do you hear about it?" + +"Oh, what I said. Say Mix, do you honestly mean all that +blood-and-thunder?" + +Mr. Mix smiled again, and hoped that his expression was taken to be +non-committal. To save his life, he couldn't have helped looking +towards the corner where Henry and Judge Barklay sat, and his fury and +chagrin were multiplied when he saw that they were still affected by +humour. + +He went out, with vast dignity--even the doorman had a twinkle in his +eye--and made for Masonic Hall. Mirabelle was there, in the committee +room, and at sight of him, she had a temporary fit of maidenly +diffidence. He wanted to slap her; but he didn't even dare to use a +tone of voice which was more than disapproving. + +"Those pamphlets--" he began, censoriously. + +"Oh, yes, Theodore, I took the liberty of making a few slight +changes." + +"Slight changes! Sleight of _hand_ changes!" + +Mirabelle drew herself up. "Do you mean to say you criticise what I +did? _I_ couldn't see the sense of being milk-and-watery, even if +_you_ could. All I put in was what you've said to me a hundred times +over. We've wasted too much time already. I thought we'd better show +our true colours." + +Mr. Mix stood and gaped at her. Underground politician that he was, he +knew that Mirabelle had utterly destroyed the half of his ambition. +She had made him a laughing-stock, a buffoon, a political joke. To +think that his name was connected with a crusade against short-skirts +and dancing--Ugh! Not even the average run of church-goers would +swallow it. "Mayor!" he thought bitterly. "President of Council! I +couldn't get elected second deputy assistant dog-catcher!" + +Aloud, he said slowly: "I'm afraid it was premature, that's all." + +"Oh, no, it wasn't! You've no _idea_ how people are talking about +it." + +"Oh, yes, I have," said Mr. Mix, but he hadn't the temerity to put a +sarcastic stress on it. He was wondering whether, if he issued a +statement to assure the public that what was in those pamphlets was +pure idealism, and not to be taken as his outline of any immediate +campaign, he could remove at least the outer layer of the bad +impression, and save his amendment from the wreck. He had thought, +earlier, that he wouldn't need that amendment as a personal weapon +against Henry, but the value of it had appreciated by the possibility +of losing it. As to the state-wide law, Mr. Mix was totally +unconcerned. "Oh, yes, I have," he said. + +"Don't get too conceited, though, Theodore. The _best_ part of it was +mine." + +Mr. Mix's eagle eye saw a loophole. "You don't think I'm going to take +praise for what belongs to _you_, do you?" he demanded. + +"Why--" + +"No, sir!" said Mr. Mix. "Not exactly. I'm going to tell the truth +about it at our next meeting, and I'm going to send a statement to the +_Herald_." + +"Oh, it doesn't matter." + +"It matters to me. Maybe I'm too finicky, but that's the kind of man I +am." + +"You're too generous," she murmured. + +Mr. Mix wiped away a stray bead of perspiration, and breathed more +freely. With Mirabelle's money to back him, and the stigma of those +two pamphlets removed, perhaps he had a fighting chance for the +mayoralty yet. + + * * * * * + +It was a house-wedding, with very few guests, no decorations, and +perfectly digestible refreshments. When the last of the party had +gone down the steps, Mirabelle, in a travelling-suit which was new in +comparison with the rest of her wardrobe, approached the bridegroom. + +"Theodore, I want you to have your gift before we start. I don't want +you to feel too dependent on me. Maybe after next month I'll make some +kind of a settlement on you, but that's neither here nor there. So ... +take it, and I hope it's what you wanted." + +He took it, and his fingers trembled. A check? And for what generous +amount? + +"_Well_--aren't you going to thank me?" + +Mr. Mix tried to speak, but the lump in his throat prevented him. She +had given him what was the legal equivalent of five thousand dollars, +but it wasn't in the form of a check. It was his own demand note, +payable to John Starkweather and endorsed by him to Mirabelle. The +word "Cancelled" was written, in Mirabelle's angular hand, across the +face of it. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +As Henry and his wife went down the steps, they exchanged glances and +smiled faintly. "First time I've been in that house for seven months," +said Henry, half to himself. "It's a bully old shack, too. I lived in +it ever since I was six." + +"Still, we're pretty comfortable right where we are, dear." + +Henry lagged a little. "That _does_ hurt my feelings. Of course, I'm +so busy I could live in a dog-kennel and hardly notice it, but when +_you_ have to camp day in and day out in that measly little joint, and +smell everybody else's corned beef and cabbage, and dig like a +general-housework girl and cook, and manicure the stove, and peel the +potatoes and dust off the what-not and so on--not that you haven't +made it a mighty pretty place, because you _have_--without one day's +vacation since last August--" + +"But I've told you so often, dear, I'm _glad_ to do it if it helps +you." + +"It helped a lot. If you hadn't done it in the first place, I wouldn't +have had the cash on hand to tie up the rest of the picture houses. +But that time's gone by. I don't see why in thunder you won't hire +some servants. And at least you could pike up into the country for a +week. Why don't you?" + +She hesitated, for temptation was strong, and she was really very +tired. "Maybe it's just because I want to play the game out, too. It's +only two months more." + +"And after that," he said firmly, "we're going to move. I'll have +enough to buy a young bungle-house up on the hill, even if I don't get +anything from Archer. And then I'm going to make up to you for this +year--see if I don't." + +"Would you sell the Orpheum?" + +"Sell it!" he echoed. "I'd sell it so quick you'd think it was a fake +oil-well! I could, too. Bob Standish sends me a proposition from +somebody about once a week." + +"Don't you believe there's any chance of our catching up, then?" + +"Looks pretty black," he admitted. "They've got us eight down and nine +to go, but if this amendment holds off we've still got eight weeks +left to think up some wild scheme." + +She squeezed his arm. "I'm not afraid of the future, no matter what +happens. We can take care of ourselves." + +"Sure we can," he said, easily. "Maybe I could get a job keeping the +books for the League!... Seriously, though, I've had two or three +different propositions put up to me over at the Club ... but Lord! how +I hate to be licked! Well--let's train our gigantic intellects on the +job, and finish out the heat, anyway." + +She went back to her hated housekeeping, and Henry went back to his +hated theater, and for another week they labored and pinched and +saved, each in a specific purpose, and each in desperate support of +the other's loyalty and sacrifice. + +He brought her, then, the morning edition of the _Herald_, and pointed +out a telegraphic item on the first page. "They must think it's a +sure thing," he said, "and the devil of it is that I guess they're +pretty nearly right." + +Anna glanced at the headlines, and gasped. "Mix elected second +vice-president of the national organization--and pledges twenty-five +thousand dollars to the national campaign fund! Oh!... I _wish_ I +could say what I think!" + +"If a hearty oath would relieve you, don't mind me," said Henry. His +chin was squarer than usual, and his eyes were harder. "You can see +what happened, can't you? Aunt Mirabelle railroaded him through--and +the pompous old fool looks the part--and she let him promise money she +expects to get in August. And I'll bet it hurt him just as much to +promise it as it does me to have him!" + +She threw the paper to the floor. "Henry, can't we do _some_thing? +We're only a few hundred dollars short! Can't we make up just _that_ +little bit?" + +"It's a thousand, now," he said. "A thousand, and we're falling +further behind every time the clock ticks." He retrieved the +_Herald_, and abstractedly smoothed out the pages. "That was a great +spread-eagle speech of Mix's wasn't it? Talking about his model +ordinance, and what he's going to do next year!... Nothing I'd love +better than to give that fellow a dose of his own tonic. But that's +the deuce of it--I can't think how to put it over.... Even if I'm +licked, I wouldn't feel so badly if I just had the personal +satisfaction of making him look like a sick cat. Just once." + +"Yes," she said, sorrowfully. "Dad's prophecy didn't seem to work out, +did it?" + +"What prophecy was that?" + +"Don't you remember? He said if Mr. Mix only had enough rope--" + +"Oh, yes. Only Mix declined the invitation. He's handled himself +pretty well; you've got to grant that. There's a lot of people around +here that honestly think he's a first-class citizen. Sometimes I'm +darned if I don't think they _will_ elect him something. And then God +save the Commonwealth! But if they ever realized how far that +League'll go if it ever gets under way, and what a bunch of hocum +Mix's part of it is--" He stopped abruptly, and froze in his place; +and then, to Anna's amazement, he turned to her with a whoop which +could have carried half-way to the Orpheum. + +"Henry! What on earth _is_ it?" + +Henry snatched up his hat and made for the door. "More rope!" he said, +exultantly, over his shoulder. "_Lots_ more rope--I'll tell you +tonight!" + + * * * * * + +He arrived at the City Hall before the record room was open, and he +fretted and stamped in the corridor until a youthful clerk with spats, +pimples, and an imitation diamond scarf-pin condescended to listen to +his wants. In twenty minutes he was away again, and he was lucky +enough to catch Judge Barklay before the bailiff had opened court. + +"Hello, Henry," said the Judge. "Did you want to see me about +anything?" + +"Rather!" said Henry, who was slightly out of breath. "It's about a +comma." + +"A what?" + +"A comma. Where's your copy of the ordinances?" + +"On my desk. Why?" + +Henry ran through the volume to the proper place, inserted his thumb +as a marker, and held the book in reserve. "Judge, do you suppose the +voters want any of these fool blue-laws passed?" + +"No." + +"Well, who does, then, outside of the League?" + +"Nobody. All we want is a decent city." + +"It's simply that the League's got the Council more or less buffaloed, +isn't it?" + +"That's what I've heard, Henry." + +"And the first thing we know, the League'll have put in such a big +wedge that it'll be too late to get it out. If this amendment gets +over, Mix'll have a show in the fall, and then the League'll run wild. +Just as they said in those pamphlets that Mix published, and then +squirmed out of. Isn't that so?" + +"Very likely. Very likely." + +"And yet everybody's afraid to stand up against it, for fear they'll +be called names?" + +"It looks so, Henry." + +"But if the people once started a back fire--" + +The Judge shook his head. "Mobs don't start without a leader." + +"I know, but if they ever realized what a ghastly farce it would +be--not even using any of the League's _new_ notions, but taking what +we've got on the books right now--" He opened the volume of +ordinances, and read slowly: "'Whosoever shall fail in the strict +observance of the Lord's Day by any unseemly act, speech or carriage; +or whosoever shall engage in any manner of diversion--'" Here he +paused impressively. "'--or profane occupation--'" He slung the volume +on the desk, and faced the Judge. "Don't you get it?" + +"I'm afraid I don't--quite." + +"Why," said Henry, with a beatific grin. "Why, _there's a comma +after that word 'diversion.'_ I've just come from the City Hall. +I've seen the original copy. There _is_ a comma. 'Any manner of +diversion'--that's one thing: '_or_ any manner of profane occupation +for profit--' that's something else again, and different entirely. +And the Reform League has been shrieking to have that ordinance +enforced--to say nothing of the amendment. Well, why not enforce +it once. 'Any manner of diversion?'" He began to laugh, helplessly. +"Oh, come on, Judge--take the pins out and let your imagination down. +_Any_ manner of--" + +The Judge was whistling softly. "By George, Henry--" + +"Can't you _see_ it working? I'm not sure anybody could even take a +nap! And--" + +The Judge stepped past him. "That's all right, Henry. Stay where you +are. I'm just going to telephone Rowland.... Hello: Mayor's office, +please--" He motioned to his son-in-law. "Make yourself comfortable--I +shouldn't wonder a bit if these blue-laws weren't going to get just a +little bit--bleached." + + * * * * * + +On his delirious way to the Orpheum, he stopped in to see Bob +Standish, not to share the joke with him, for Judge Barklay had laid +great stress on the closest secrecy, but in answer to a recent +message asking him to call. + +"What's the excitement, Bob?" + +His friend regarded him with the innocent stare which had made his +fortune. "Remember I spoke to you some time ago about renting that +space over the Orpheum?" + +"The nursery? Yes." + +"Well, it's come up again. Different party, this time. Of course he +hasn't seen it yet, but it's a chap who wants about that much +space--might want to enlarge it a little, but we'd arrange that; he'd +do it at his own expense--and he'd pay fifteen hundred a year." + +Henry deliberated. "It's so near the finish.... I don't much care one +way or the other. Who's the party?" + +"Bird named McClellan." + +"I don't know him; do I?" + +"I don't know why you should; never met him before, myself. Well, do +you want to trade?" + +"I don't much care what I do." + +Standish surveyed him closely. "You're very peppy this morning, seems +to me." + +"I've got an excuse to be." + +"For publication?" + +"Not yet. You'll see it soon enough." + +Standish's eyes dropped back to his desk. "Well, let's get this lease +question off our chests. If you'll let me handle it for you, I'll +guarantee you'll be satisfied." + +"Would you do it if you were in my shoes?" + +"Absolutely--provided you were in mine." + +Henry laughed. "Well, Mr. Bones, what _is_ the answer?" + +"Why--this _may_ do you some good. That is, if you let me manage it +for you. But suppose it's immaterial. Suppose you run out your string, +and win or lose, you know what's on the docket for you, don't you? If +you want it?" + +"I haven't thought that far ahead. I've had one or two things put up +to me." + +"Forget 'em." Standish pointed at the wall. "Nice new mahogany +flat-topped desk right there." + +Henry's mouth relaxed. "Why--_Bob_." + +As Standish gazed at him, no observer would have said that this +immature-looking boy was rated in the highest group of local +businessmen. To a stranger, the offer might have seemed insignificant, +even humorously insignificant; but to Henry it was stupendous, and +for two widely varying reasons. + +"Just to think over," said Standish. "In case." + +Henry's fists were doubled. "It isn't so much the ... the commercial +side of it, Bob, but when I know you've always had me down for such an +_incompetent_ sort of--" + +"That was before the war. To tell the truth, old rubbish, last August +I couldn't have seen it with the Lick telescope. Thought you were a +great scout, of course--good pal--all that--but _business_; that's +different. A friend's one thing; but a partner's a lot of 'em." + +Henry was staring fixedly at him. "I wouldn't have any money to speak +of--" + +"Then don't speak of it. _I_'ll name the price. The price is your +year's profit on the Orpheum." + +There was a little silence. "When did you get this hunch, Bob?" + +"Oh, about last February." + +"But it was about then that I came in here one day, and--and you said +you--you said one pal _couldn't_ boss another. You said--" + +"Oh!... But as I recall it, you were talking about a job." + +"Yes, and you said you wouldn't give me one! And ever since then I've +been--" + +"Idiot!" said Standish. "Is that what's been gnawing at his tender +heart! Why, you astigmatic fool--why.... Stop right there! Certainly I +wouldn't have you for an employé, but as a partner--that's different. +If you apologize, I'll slay you. Shake hands and wipe it off your +brain.... Now let's get back to business. We've got to have quick +action." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +As the train slowed for the station, and a score of other passengers +began to assemble wraps and luggage, Mr. Theodore Mix sat calm and +undisturbed, although inwardly he was still raging at Mirabelle for +making a spectacle of him. It was fully half an hour ago that she had +prodded him into activity, ignored his plea of greater experience in +ways of travel, and compelled him to get the suitcases out to the +platform (she didn't trust the porter), to help her on with her cape, +and to be in instant readiness for departure. For half an hour she had +sat bolt upright on the edge of her seat, an umbrella in one hand and +an antique satchel in the other, and her air was a public proclamation +that no railroad, soulless corporation though it might be, was going +to carry her one inch beyond her destination. + +By a superhuman effort, Mr. Mix removed his eyes from Mirabelle's +convention badge. It was a chaste decoration of three metal bars, two +sets of supporting chains, and a half foot of blue silk ribbon, with +white lettering, and Mirabelle continued to wear it for two reasons: +she was proud of it, and Mr. Mix had made his initial attempt to be +masterful, and told her twenty-four hours ago that it looked as though +she belonged to the Third Ward Chowder Club. Since then, she had +reproached him afresh whenever she caught him looking at it. And +inasmuch as it could hardly be avoided by anyone who cast the briefest +glance in her general direction, he had been in hot water from Chicago +to the present moment. He couldn't even escape to the smoking room. + +When a man is telling himself that a woman has made a fool of him in +public, and that every one in the neighborhood is amused to watch him, +he finds it peculiarly difficult to carry on a conversation with the +woman. But Mr. Mix saw that Mirabelle was about to converse, and +glowering at a drummer across the aisle, he beat her to it. + +"Seems to me the League had an almighty gall to wire you for that +three thousand dollars, Mirabelle. If it had been _my_ money, I'd +have hung on to it until I knew what they wanted it for." + +She straightened her lips. "Well, it wasn't, was it?--So I didn't, did +I?... If I can't have faith in my own associates, who _can_ I have it +in? And it isn't a gift; it's a loan. Treasurer said he needed it +right off, and there wasn't anybody else to get it from in a hurry." +She caught his eyes wandering towards her gorgeous insignia, and her +own eyes snapped back at him. "And I hope at least I'm to have the +privilege of doing what I choose with my own money. Don't forget that +women are _people_, now, just as much as men are. After the first of +August, maybe I'll--" + +"Mirabelle. Sh-h!" + +"No, I won't either," she retorted. "I don't _care_ to shush. After +the first of August, maybe you'll have your share, and I won't presume +to interfere with _you_. So don't you interfere with _me_. If the +League had to have money, it was for some proper purpose. And it +wasn't a gift; it was a loan. And if I couldn't trust--" + +"Oh, give it a drink!" said Mr. Mix, under his breath; and while he +maintained an attitude of courteous attention, he barricaded his ears +as best he could, and shut Mirabelle out of his consciousness. + +Even in Chicago, he had received bulletins from the seat of war; they +had merely confirmed his previous knowledge that Henry was beaten, +thoroughly and irretrievably. A few more weeks, and Mirabelle would be +rich. Half a million? That was the minimum. Three quarters? That was +more likely. A million dollars? It wasn't in the least improbable. And +Mirabelle had told him more than once, and in plain English, that she +planned to divide with him--not equally, but equitably. She had said +that she would give him a third of her own inheritance. Hm ... a +hundred and fifty to three hundred thousand, say. And what couldn't he +do with such a benefice? Of course, he would have to profess some +slight interest in the League for awhile, but gradually he could slide +out of it--and he hoped that he could engineer Mirabelle out of it. +Mirabelle made herself too conspicuous. But even if Mirabelle stuck +to her colours, Mr. Mix needn't hesitate to drift away--that is, after +he had received his settlement. Late in August, he would make a trip +to New York on business--reform business--and in the glare of the +flaming-arcs, he would compensate himself for his years of penance. +Mirabelle was sharp, but (he smiled reminiscently) in Chicago he had +once managed to hoodwink her; and what man has done, man can do. + +"It's nothing to laugh at, Theodore!" + +He came to himself with a start. "I wasn't laughing." + +"Did you hear what I said?" + +"Yes, dear. Certainly." + +"Very well. We'll go out, then." + +"Out where?" + +"Out to the vestibule, just as I said." + +"But Mirabelle! We're more than a mile from the station!" + +"We're going out to the vestibule, Theodore. I don't propose to get +left." + +A moment ago, Mr. Mix had been arguing that the smiles and sympathy of +his fellow-passengers were cheap at the price, but when he rose and +escorted Mirabelle down the aisle, he was telling himself that the +old-fashioned principle was best--the wife's property ought to pass +under the absolute control of the husband. He was strengthened in this +conviction by the fact that two fashionable young men in the corner +were snickering at him. + +"Home again," said Mirabelle, with a sigh of relief. "Home again, and +time to get to work. And I'm just itching for it." + +Mr. Mix said nothing: he was wondering how soon he could get to his +private caché, and whether he had better put in a supply of young +onions in addition to cloves and coffee beans. He hadn't yet +discovered whether Mirabelle had a particularly keen scent: but he +would take no chances. + +"Stop staring at those girls, Theodore!" + +"I may be married," said Mr. Mix, defensively. "But I'm dashed if I'm +blind.... Immodest little hussies. We'll have to tackle that question +next, Mirabelle." + +The train eased to a standstill: he helped her down to the platform. +The big car was waiting for them: and as the door slammed, Mr. Mix +sat back luxuriously, and beamed at the chauffeur. Yes, virtue had its +compensations; and as soon as he had money to his own credit, he would +figuratively take Mirabelle by the scruff of the neck, and he would +tell her just exactly how to behave, and he would see that she did it. +But for the present--soft diplomacy. + +Mirabelle clamped his arm. "Why, what's that policeman stopping us +for, right in the middle of a block!" + +"Search _me_...." He opened the door, and he leaned out, imperially. +"What's wrong, officer? We weren't going over twelve or thirteen--" + +The policeman, who had brought out a thick book of blank summonses, +and an indelible pencil, motioned him to desist. "What name?" + +Mr. Mix swelled, pompously. "But, officer, I--" + +"Cut it out. Name?" + +"Theodore Mix. But--" + +"Address?" + +Mr. Mix gave it, but before he could add a postscript, Mirabelle was +on active duty. "Officer, we've got a perfect right to know what all +this fol-de-rol is about. I'm the president of the Ethical Reform +League." She flirted her badge at him. "I'm Mrs. Theodore Mix--used to +be Miss Starkweather. My husband is a personal friend of Mayor +Rowland, and the Chief of Police. I demand to know the reason for this +insult!" + +The policeman tore off a page at the perforation, and handed it to Mr. +Mix. "Judge Barklay's Court, Tuesday, 10 A.M.... Why, you're violatin' +City Ordinance 147." + +Mirabelle turned red. "Now you see here, young man, I know that +ordinance backwards and forwards! I--" + +"Try it sideways," said the unabashed policeman. "Ordinance says +nobody can't engage in no diversion on the Lord's Day. That's today, +and this here limousine's a diversion, ain't it?" + +Mr. Mix cried out in anguish, as her grip tightened. "Ouch! It's a +damned outrage! Leggo my arm." + +"No, it isn't! Oh, Theodore, don't you see what it _means_--" + +"Leggo, Mirabelle! It's a damned outrage!" + +"No, it isn't either! Theodore, don't you _see_? The Mayor's +weakened--they probably read your speech at Chicago--they aren't +_waiting_ for the amendment! They're enforcing the ordinance--better +than we ever dreamed of! And that means that you're going to the City +Hall next autumn!" She leaned out and bowed to the gaping officer. "We +beg your pardon. You did perfectly right. Thank you for doing your +duty. Can we go on, now?" + +The man scratched his head, perplexedly. + +"What are you tryin' to do--kid me? Sure; go ahead. Show that summons +to anybody else that stops you." + +In the two miles to the hill, they were stopped seven times, and when +they arrived at the house, Mirabelle was almost hysterical with +triumph. Without delaying to remove her hat, she sent a telegram to +the national president, and she also telephoned to a few of her League +cronies, to bid them to a supper in celebration. Mr. Mix made three +separate essays to escape, but after the third and last trial was +made to appear in its proper light as a subterfuge, he lapsed into +heavy infestivity; and he spent the evening drinking weak lemonade, +and trying to pretend that it belonged to the Collins family. And +while his wife (still wearing her insignia) and his guests were +talking in a steady stream, Mr. Mix was telling himself that if +Ordinance 147 was going to prevent so innocent an occupation as riding +in a car on Sunday, he was very much afraid that life in this +community was going to be too rich for his blood. That is, unless he +were elected to be chief of the community. And in this case, he would +see that he wasn't personally inconvenienced. + + * * * * * + +At half past seven in the morning, Mirabelle was already at the +breakfast table, and semi-audibly rating Mr. Mix for his slothfulness, +when he came in with an odd knitting of his forehead and an unsteady +compression of his mouth. To add to the effect, he placed his feet +with studied clumsiness, and as he gave the _Herald_ into Mirabelle's +hands, he uttered a sound which annoyed her. + +"For the cat's sake, Theodore, what are you groaning about?" + +"Groan yourself," said Mr. Mix, and put a trembling finger on the +headline. As he removed the finger, it automatically ceased to +tremble. Mr. Mix didn't care two cents for what was in the _Herald_, +but he knew that to Mirabelle it would be a tragedy, and that he was +cast for the part of chief mourner. + +"Well, what's _that_ to groan about? I'd call it a smashing +victory--just as I did last night. And _our_ being caught only +shows--" + +"Rave on," said Mr. Mix lugubriously, and stood with his hands in his +pockets, jingling his keys. + +"Certainly! It shows they meant business. It shows _we_ did. We'll +take our own medicine. And the amendment--" She broke off sharply; her +eyes had strayed back to the smaller type. "Good grief!" said +Mirabelle, faintly, and there was silence. + +Mr. Mix came to look over her shoulder. + + LEADING REFORMERS ARRESTED + FOR VIOLATING OWN PET LAW + + _Police Issue Over 2800 Summonses to Golfers, Pick- + nickers, Canoeists, Cyclists, Hikers and Motorists_ + including Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Mix + + MAYOR PUTS OVER UNIQUE REFERENDUM + TO SEE WHAT PEOPLE REALLY WANT + + _Special Meeting of Council Called This Morning_ + + Entire City Roused to Fight Blue-Law-Campaign: + Mix Amendment Doomed: Ordinance 147 Sure to be + Modified + +Mirabelle collected herself. "What are you standing around gawking +like that for? Find out what time that meeting is. Telephone every +member of the committee. They won't have any meeting without _us_, not +by a long, long row of apple-trees!" + +"Save your strength," said Mr. Mix, with a spiritual yawn. + +"Save my strength! Well, what about saving my five thousand dollars +for--for missionary work!" + +"The missionary fund," said Mr. Mix, "seems to have fallen among +cannibals. Save your energy, my dear. This isn't reform; it's +elementary politics, and Rowland's used the steam-roller. As a matter +of fact, we're stronger than we were before. If they'd passed my +amendment, a lot of voters might have said it wouldn't do any good to +elect me Mayor; when all my best work was done beforehand. Now I've +got a _real_ platform to fight on. And the League'll have a real fund, +won't it? You put up forty or fifty thousand, and we'll stage a +Waterloo." + +"And you can stand there and--oh, you coward!" + +He shook his head, with new dignity. "No, you're simply lucky Rowland +didn't think of it a year ago. If he _had_, and--" Mr. Mix broke off +the sentence, and turned pale. + +"What's the matter, Theodore?" + +Mr. Mix slumped down as though hit from behind. "Mirabelle--listen--" +His voice was strained, and hoarse. "I may have to have some money +today--four or five thousand--" + +"I haven't got it." + +He stared at her until she backed away in awe. "You--you haven't +_got_--four or five _thousand_--?" + +Mirabelle began to whimper. "I've been so sure of--of August, you +know--I've spent all Mr. Archer sent me. I--" + +As he stepped forward, Mirabelle retreated. "You've got something of +your own, though?" It wasn't an ordinary question, it was an agonized +appeal. + +"Only a separate trust fund John set up for me before he died--fifty +thousand dollars--I just get the interest--sixty dollars a week." + +Mr. Mix sat down hard, and his breathing was laboured. +"Great--Jumping--Jehosophat!" He wet his lips, repeatedly. +"Mirabelle--listen--if they modify that ordinance--so Sunday shows are +legal again--those other fellows'll want to buy back--their +contracts--from Henry. There's only a few weeks--but if Henry only +raised a thousand dollars--he'd be so close to his ten thousand--" He +reached for a glass of water and drank it, gulping. "Henry'll see +_that_--he's got his eyes open every minute.... We've got to cut +inside of him. Prevent those fellows from buying their Sunday leases +back. Get hold of the man that's the boss of the Exhibitors' +Association. Tell him we'll buy a _second_ option to lease the whole +string of theatres for six weeks, subject to our getting a release +from Henry. As if the League wanted 'em or something. Offer a big +enough rent so they'll _have_ to accept--so they'd get more out of +_us_ than if they opened up. Then they _can't_ buy back from +Henry--and he's over a thousand short. I _know_ he is. And if you +don't do it--" His gesture was dramatic. + +Mirabelle's expression, as she wiped her eyes, was a pot-pourri of +sentiments. "Humph! Can't say I like the idea much, kind of too +tricky." + +Mr. Mix played his last card. "Don't the ends justify the means? You +and I'd be philanthropists, and _Henry_--" He watched her quiver. "And +with a fund such as _we'd_ have, we'd begin all over again, and next +time we'd win, wouldn't we?" + +"Theodore. I've got fifty one hundred in the bank. It has to last +'till August. If you took five thousand _more_--" + +He snatched at the straw. "You bet I'll take it. It's for _insurance_. +And you telephone to Masonic Hall and see what's left of the three +grand you wired 'em from--" + +"The what?" + +"The money you sent from Chicago. Get what's left. Soon as I find out, +I'll hustle down town and get busy." + +Mirabelle wavered. "The Council's going to--" + +Mr. Mix gave her a look which was a throwback to his cave-man +ancestry. "To _hell_ with the Council!" + +For an instant, her whole being rebelled, and then she saw his eyes. +"A-all right," she faltered. "I--I'll telephone!" + +Inside of five minutes, she told him that of her loan, there was +nothing left at all. The money had been wanted for the two-year rental +of a new hall, at 300 Chestnut Street; the owner had made a marked +concession in price for advance payment. + +"Never mind, then," he rasped. "That's cold turkey. Give me a check +for every nickel you've got.... And I'll want the car all day. I want +a cup of coffee. And you wait right here until I get word to you what +to do next." + +"Couldn't I even--" + +"You stay here! Far's _I_ know, I'll have you making the rounds of the +hock-shops to cash in your jewelry. But--" He relaxed slightly. "But +when it's for reform, my dear--when it's for civilization--the +League--isn't it worth _any_ sacrifice?" + +A spark of the old fire burned in her eyes. "Humph! Good thing _one_ +of us has _got_ something to sacrifice, if anybody asked me. But +here's your coffee.... Don't make such a horrid noise with it, +Theodore." + + * * * * * + +At noon, he telephoned her two pieces of news. The Council, fairly +swamped with hundreds of outraged voters, had promptly modified the +existing ordinance, and rejected--unanimously--the Mix amendment. And +Mr. Mix, who had spent three hours in conference, and in battle, had +emerged victorious. + +"Thank Heaven, we're safe!... And it only costs thirty-nine hundred. +(Five of this was Mr. Mix's self-granted commission.) I've bought a +second option on every last house in town. And I'll need the car all +afternoon. I've got to run all over everywhere and close these +deals.... What are you going to do?" + +"Why," she said with a rueful glance at her check-book. "I guess I'll +go down and see how soon I can get that loan back. I'm not used +to--putting off tradesmen's bills, Theodore. I wasn't brought up to +it." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Now after prolonged debate, and a trial of irresistible force (which +was Henry's logic) against an immovable body (which was Anna's +loyalty), she had finally consented to run up into the country for a +week's respite from the hot weather. Before she left, however, she was +first sworn to secrecy, and told of the discovery of the lurking +comma, and of the plan for a militant referendum; she was properly +convulsed, but a little later, when her practical instincts had had a +chance to assert themselves, she inquired of Henry where there was any +benefit to the Orpheum. + +"Not a bit," he assured her cheerfully. + +"Not even in the Council--" + +"Dearest, it doesn't make the difference of the billionth part of a +counterfeit Russian rouble." + +She regarded him curiously. "Are you as cheerful as all that just +because you're getting back at Mr. Mix? And maybe spoiling his boom +for Mayor?" + +Henry said that he was all as cheerful as that; yea, more so. He was +merely snagging the rope which had already been paid out; and it was +glory in his pocket, because so many people before him had found the +rope twitched out of their hands. She thought that this indication of +a vengeful spirit was out of place in his character, but she forgave +it, because at least it was founded on humour. And when he took her to +the train, she forgave it on another score, because she realized that +not since last autumn had she seen him so fundamentally boyish and +irresponsible. She was glad that so much of his spontaneity had come +back to him, but at the same time she was puzzled, for it didn't seem +altogether like Henry, as she had analyzed him, to gloat so thoroughly +over mere retaliation, humourous or not. + +On Monday, he met her at the station, and as soon as she saw him, she +remarked again the extraordinary uplift of his mood. She had read the +_Herald_, and taken deep enjoyment from it; but Henry had a hundred +unpublished incidents to tell her,--one of them concerned his own +escape from possible complications by closing the Orpheum, issuing +passes good for the following week; and spending the day in the +library of the Citizens Club--and in her amusement, and also in her +happiness to be back with him, she didn't notice that Henry was +driving her to the Orpheum instead of to their apartment. + +"Why, what are we stopping here for, dear?" + +Henry's laugh had a pronounced overtone. "To meet Mr. Archer. I +thought you'd like to be in on it." + +"In on what?" She caught his arm. "Henry! Has something happened? Has +it?" She stared at him, and as she recognized what might be hidden +behind his expression of exquisite, unreserved joy, she was almost as +frightened as if he had looked despairing instead of joyful. + +"It wasn't settled until last week," he said, still with that wide, +speculative smile, like a baby's. "It _really_ wasn't settled until +Saturday. And it won't be _positively_ settled until we've seen +Archer.... And there he is waiting for us! I couldn't get him +before--he was in the country for the week-end." + + * * * * * + +With no clear recollection of how she got there, she was sitting in +Henry's tiny office, and Mr. Archer was sitting beside her, and Henry +was standing at his desk, pawing over a heap of ledgers and +cash-books. To Anna, there was something commanding in his attitude, +something more of crest than she had ever seen in him, even during the +early period of his intrepid youth. And yet she could see, too, that +his hands were a trifle unsteady, and that his lips betrayed an +immense excitement. + +"Mr. Archer," he said. "There's no use waiting until the first of the +year. Either we've made good by this time, or we never will. Here's +the books. They'll show a net profit, including Saturday's deposit, of +ten thousand five hundred." + +Anna turned weak and faint, and she wanted to laugh and cry in the +same breath, but she gripped the arms of her chair, and clung fast to +what was left of her poise. If Henry had a miracle to report, Anna +must hear it. + +"It's a matter of interpretation," he went on, with his voice shaking +for an instant. "And you're the interpreter. It came up so suddenly +last week that I couldn't get hold of you. But I took a chance, +anyway.... Does a lease count?" + +The lawyer looked very sober. "A lease?" + +"Yes. If I leased part of the theatre to somebody, would the income +from that count?" + +During the resultant silence, Anna distinctly heard her own heart +beating. She looked at Mr. Archer, and saw that his brows were drawn +down, and that his eyes were distant. Fearfully, she hung on his +reply. + +"That's a delicate question, Henry. You were supposed to make your +profit from the operation of the theatre." + +Henry was tense. "I don't mean if I leased the _theatre_. I mean if I +leased some _part_ of it--some part that wouldn't interfere with the +show." + +Anna closed her eyes. Mr. Archer's brows had risen to normal. "Why, +in that case, I should certainly say that the income would count, +Henry. Let's see the lease?" + +Anna wished that Henry would come over to her, and hold her in his +arms while Mr. Archer, with maddening deliberation, glanced through +the long typewritten document--but Henry had turned his back, and was +gazing out of the window. + +"Peter McClellan? What's _he_ want so much space for?" + +Henry made no response. There was a long hiatus, broken only by the +rustling of the pages. + +"Just a minute, Henry. Some of this is all right--and some isn't. The +space you mention is what you're using now for the--er--nursery, I +take it. And the privilege of the lessee to enlarge the upper story at +his own expense is all right." His brows had gone down again, and Anna +shivered. "But even if you've got your whole rental in advance, you +aren't entitled to claim all of it belongs to this year's income. As a +matter of fact, you actually _earn_ a twenty-fourth of that whole +payment every month for twenty-four months." + +Henry spoke over his shoulder. "You haven't read far enough." + +"Oh!" Mr. Archer laughed, but his voice was no lighter. "Why, how on +earth did you persuade anybody to execute such an agreement as that?" + +Henry faced around. "Bob Standish engineered it. Told this chap as +long as he paid in advance anyway, to get a bargain, it wouldn't make +any difference to _him_, and it made a lot to me. Nine hundred and +fifty a month for July and August and fifty a month for the next +twenty-two months." + +"But my dear boy, you still don't _earn_ more than a twenty-fourth of +the whole rental each month. That's ordinary book-keeping. I should +have thought you'd have learned it. It makes no difference _when_ the +lessee pays. All you can credit yourself in July and August is--" + +"Oh, no, Mr. Archer. There's a consideration. You'll find it on the +next page. I'm to keep the theatre closed every afternoon in July and +August so the lessee can make his alterations to the second story. And +the extra price for those months is to pay me for loss of revenue. So +it _does_ count on this year's income. Maybe I'm no impresario, but by +gosh, I can keep a set of books." + +Mr. Archer nodded briskly. "That _is_ different. Why, Henry, as far as +I can see ... what's this? 300 Chestnut Street? But the Orpheum's on +Main." + +"300 Chestnut is the back entrance," said Henry. He smiled across at +Anna, and she stood up and came a perilous step towards him. "Well, +old lady," said Henry, and the same wide, foolish smile of utter joy +was on his lips. "I guess this fixes it. I--" + +He was rudely interrupted by the violent opening of the door. His Aunt +Mirabelle stood there, dynamic, and behind her, in a great fluster of +dismay and apprehension, stood the chairman of the Quarters Committee +of the Reform League. + +"Henry! Henry Devereux! You--you swindler!" Her speech was seriously +impeded by her wrath. "You--you--you." She flung a savage gesture +towards the little man in the background. "You had an agent show +him--show Mr. McClellan--this place through the back door!--_He_ +didn't know I--Henry Devereux, you've got _my_ three thousand dollars, +and you're going to give it straight back to me! This minute! Do you +_hear_?" + +Anna stared at her, and at Henry, and sat down plump and cried into +her handkerchief, from sheer hysterical reaction. + +"Oh, yes," said Henry. "Through the back door, if you say so. But +that's the regular business entrance. I suppose the agent thought it +looked better, too." + +"The agent! That Standish man! You _conspired_. You--" + +Henry's chin went up. "Excuse me, Aunt Mirabelle, but I didn't know +the first thing about it until Bob Standish told me he had a client +ready to close, and to pay in advance. I didn't even know your man by +sight. I'd have rented it to anybody on earth on the same terms." + +The little chairman edged forward. "Miss Starkweather--Mrs. Mix--I +knew how you feel about motion pictures, of course, but how could _I_ +know you wouldn't even want to be in the same building with--" + +"Oh, dry up!" She whirled on the lawyer. "Is that fair? Do you call +that fair? _Do_ you?" + +Mr. Archer put his hand on Henry's shoulder, and nodded benignly. "To +tell the truth, Mrs. Mix, I can't see where this concerns you +personally at all. It's a straightforward commercial transaction +between Henry and Mr. McClellan." + +"It isn't, either! Mr. McClellan had authority from the League to get +us a hall and sign a lease in his own name. I had the directors give +it to him, myself. And it was _my_ money that paid for it! Mine!" + +Henry grinned at the lawyer. "I didn't know it until last Saturday. +Bob told me if I'd make a dirt-low rent I could get it in advance, and +up to Saturday I didn't even know who I was dickering with." + +His aunt was menacing. "Henry Devereux, if you try to cheat me out of +my rightful property by any such flim-flam as this, I ... I ... I +don't know _what_ I'll do!" + +"Oh, don't, Aunt Mirabelle," said Henry compassionately. "You know I +won't be a hog about it." + +Some of the fury went out of her expression, and Mirabelle was on the +verge of sniffling. "That's just exactly it. I _know_ you won't. And +the humiliation of it to _me_. When you know perfectly well if +_I_'d--" + +She stopped there, with her mouth wide open. They all waited, +courteously, for her to speak, but Mirabelle was speechless. She was +thinking partly of the past, and partly of the future, but chiefly of +the present--the hideous, unnecessary present in which Mr. Mix was +motoring serenely about the city, paying out good money to theatre +managers. Mirabelle's money, not to be replaced. And then--she nearly +collapsed!--the unspeakable humiliation of retracting her pledge to +the national convention. Her pledge through Mr. Mix of twenty-five +thousand dollars. How could she ever offer an excuse that would hold +water? And how could she tell the truth? And to think of Mr. Mix's +place in the community when it was shown--as inevitably it would be +shown--that he had acted merely as a toy balloon, inflated by +Mirabelle's vain expectations. + +"Humph!" she said at length, and her voice was a hoarse, thin whisper. +"Well--you just wait--'till I get hold of him!" + + * * * * * + +The door had closed behind her: the door had been closed behind Mr. +Archer, whose kindly congratulations had been the more affecting +because he had learned to love and respect the boy who had won them: +Henry and his wife stood gazing into each other's eyes. He took a step +forward and held out his arms, and she ran to him, and held tightly to +him, and sobbed a little for a postscript. + +He stroked her hair, gently. "Well--Archer says it's going to be about +seven hundred thousand. And I deserve about thirty cents. And you're +responsible for all the rest of it.... What do you want first? Those +golden pheasants, or humming-birds' wings?" + +She lifted her face. "Both--b-_because I won't have to cook 'em_. Oh, +my dear, my dear, I've l-loved it, I've loved it, I've loved working +and saving and being poor with you and everything--b-but look at my +h-hands, Henry, and _don't_ laugh at me--but I'm going to have a cook! +I'm going to have a cook! I'm going to have a cook!" + +He kissed her hands. + +"It's all over, isn't it? All over, and _we_'re doing the shouting. No +more wild men of Borneo, no more dishes to wash, no more Orpheum. +Remember what Aunt Mirabelle said a year ago? She was dead right. +Look! See the writing on the wall, baby?" + +He swung her towards the door! she brushed away her tears, and beheld +the writing. It was in large red letters, and what it said was very +brief and very appropriate. It said: EXIT. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +In the living-room of an unfashionable house on an unfashionable +street, Mrs. Theodore Mix sat in stately importance at her desk, +composing a vitriolic message to the unsympathetic world. As her +husband entered, she glanced up at him with chronic disapproval; she +was on the point of giving voice to it, not for any specific reason +but on general principles, but Mr. Mix had learned something from +experience, so his get-away was almost simultaneous with his +entrance. + +"Mail!" said Mr. Mix, and on the wing, he dropped it on his wife's +desk, and went on out of the room. + +The mail consisted of one letter; it contained the check which Henry +sent her regularly, on the first of each month. + +She sat back for a moment, and stared out at the unfashionable street. +Mr. Mix was always urging her to live in a better neighbourhood, but +with only her own two hundred and fifty a month, and four hundred more +from Henry, she could hardly afford it,--certainly not while she gave +so generously to the Reform League. + +She thought of the big brick house on the hill and sighed profoundly. +She would have made it a national shrine, and Henry--Henry was even +worse than his uncle. He kept it full of people who were satisfied to +squander the precious stuff of life by enjoying themselves. It made +her sick, simply to think of Henry. People said he and Bob Standish +were the two cleverest men that ever lived in town. Doubled the +Starkweather business in two years. Directors of banks. Directors of +the Associated Charities and trustees of the City Hospital. Humph! As +if she didn't know Henry's capabilities. Just flippancy and +monkey-tricks. And married to a girl who was a walking advertisement +of exactly what every right-minded woman should revolt against. _That_ +girl to be the mother of children! Oh Lord, oh Lord, if Anna were a +modern specimen, what would the _next_ generation be? + +She sighed again, and went back to the lecture she was composing. "The +Influence of Dress on Modern Society." Suddenly, she cocked her head +and sniffed. She rose cautiously, as one who is about to trail +suspicion. She went to the side-window, and peered out. From a little +grape-arbor on the lawn, there floated to her the unmistakable odour +of tobacco--yes, and she could see a curling wisp of smoke. + +"_Theodore!_" + +A pause. "Yes, dear." Mr. Mix's voice had taken on, some months ago, a +permanent quality of langour; and never, since the day that he was +laughed out of politics, had he regained his former dignity and +impressiveness. + +"Is that _you_--smoking again?" + +"Why--" + +"_Are_ you? Answer me." + +"Why--yes, dear--I--" + +"Come in here this minute." + +Mr. Mix emerged from the arbor. "Yes, dear?" + +She brandished her forefinger at him. "I _told_ you what would happen +next time I caught you. Not one single cent do you get out of _me_ +for many a long day, young man.... Come in here; I want you to listen +to what I've written." + +Mr. Mix's shoulders sagged, but he didn't stop to argue. "Yes, dear," +he said, pacifically. "I'm coming." + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rope, by Holworthy Hall + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROPE *** + +***** This file should be named 29570-8.txt or 29570-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/5/7/29570/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |