diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:20:53 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:20:53 -0700 |
| commit | 042009a5c7c997aaf539e7bbc1f2dee6d23582ae (patch) | |
| tree | 35be6f3d9f80bb04f4085b1dd1bb8737b60ef36d /3280-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '3280-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 3280-h/3280-h.htm | 17837 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 3280-h/images/i001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 2569 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 3280-h/images/i003.jpg | bin | 0 -> 40821 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 3280-h/images/i194.jpg | bin | 0 -> 31579 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 3280-h/images/i358.jpg | bin | 0 -> 28507 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 3280-h/images/i60.jpg | bin | 0 -> 30880 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 3280-h/images/icover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 58606 bytes |
7 files changed, 17837 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/3280-h/3280-h.htm b/3280-h/3280-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..567e9ae --- /dev/null +++ b/3280-h/3280-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,17837 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cap'n Warren's Wards, by Joseph C. Lincoln. + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + td {vertical-align: top;} + div.centered {text-align:center;} /*work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align:left;} /* work around for IE problem part 2 */ + + hr.full {width: 100%; margin-top:0.05em; margin-bottom:0.05em;} + hr.large {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; text-align: center;} + hr.medium {width: 45%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .n {text-indent:0%;} + .smallgap {margin-top: 1em;} + .bbox {border-style: double;} + .centerbox {width: 55%; /* heading box */ + margin: 0 auto; + text-align: center;} + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .right {margin-left: 15em;} + .right2 {margin-left: 20em;} + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + </style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cap'n Warren's Wards, by Joseph C. Lincoln + +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: Cap'n Warren's Wards + +Author: Joseph C. Lincoln + +Release Date: June 11, 2009 [EBook #3280] +Last Updated: September 27, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAP'N WARREN'S WARDS *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson and D. A. Alexander + + + + + +</pre> + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 319px;"> + <img src="images/icover.jpg" width="319" height="500" alt="" title="" /> + </div> + <hr class="large" /> + <div class="centerbox bbox"> + <h1> + CAP’N WARREN’S<br /> WARDS + </h1> + <hr class="full" /> + <hr class="full" /> + <h2> + By Joseph C. Lincoln + </h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <p class="center"> + Author of “The Depot Master,” “The Woman Haters,”<br /> + “The Postmaster,” “Cap’n Erie,”<br /> + “Mr. Pratt,” etc. + </p> + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 79px;"> + <img src="images/i001.jpg" width="79" height="80" alt="" title="" /> + </div> + <h4> + With Illustrations + </h4> + <h3> + <span class="smcap">By</span> EDMUND FREDERICK + </h3> + <hr class="full" /> + <hr class="full" /> + <h2> + A. L. BURT COMPANY + </h2> + <h3> + Publishers New York + </h3> + </div> + <hr class="large" /> + <p class="smallgap"> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + <span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1911, <span class="smcap">by</span><br /> + D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + </p> + <p class="center"> + <i>Published October, 1911</i> + </p> + <p class="center"> + Printed in the United States of America + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 306px;"> + <img src="images/i003.jpg" class="smallgap" width="306" height="500" + alt="“Captain Warren has risen from his chair and was facing her.” [Page 48." + title="" /> <span class="caption">“Captain Warren has risen from his + chair and was facing her.” [Page <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.]</span> + </div> + <hr class="large" /> + <h2> + CONTENTS + </h2> + <div class="centered"> + <table border="0" width="40%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="1" summary="CONTENTS"> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER I. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_1">1</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER II. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_13">13</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER III. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_31">31</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER IV. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_49">49</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER V. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_67">67</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER VI. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_85">85</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER VII. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_103">103</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER VIII. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_118">118</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER IX. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_136">136</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER X. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_151">151</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XI. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_171">171</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XII. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_188">188</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XIII. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_200">200</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XIV. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_221">221</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XV. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_235">235</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XVI. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_247">247</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XVII. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_258">258</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XVIII. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_274">274</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XIX. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_292">292</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XX. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_315">315</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XXI. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_331">331</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="left"> + CHAPTER XXII. + </td> + <td align="right"> + <a href="#Page_356">356</a> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + </div> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span> + </p> + <h2> + CAP’N WARREN’S WARDS + </h2> + <h3> + CHAPTER I + </h3> + <p style="float: left; font-size: 100%; line-height: 80%; margin-top: 0;"> + “ + </p> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">O</span>stable!” + screamed the brakeman,opening the car door and yelling his loudest, so as + to be heard above the rattle of the train and the shriek of the wind; + “Ostable!” + </p> + <p> + The brakeman’s cap was soaked through, his hair was plastered down + on his forehead, and, in the yellow light from the car lamps, his wet nose + glistened as if varnished. Over his shoulders the shiny ropes of rain + whipped and lashed across the space between the cars. The windows streamed + as each succeeding gust flung its miniature freshet against them. + </p> + <p> + The passengers in the car—there were but four of them—did not + seem greatly interested in the brakeman’s announcement. The + red-faced person in the seat nearest the rear slept soundly, as he had + done for the last hour and a half. He had boarded the train at Brockton, + and, after requesting the conductor not to “lemme me git by Bayport, + Bill,” at first favored his fellow travelers with a song and then + sank into slumber. + </p> + <p> + The two elderly men sitting together on the right-hand side of the car + droned on in their apparently endless Jeremiad concerning the low price of + cranberries, the scarcity of scallops on the flats, the reasons why the + fish weirs were a failure nowadays, and<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> similar cheerful topics. And + in his seat on the left, Mr. Atwood Graves, junior partner in the New York + firm of Sylvester, Kuhn and Graves, lawyers, stirred uneasily on the lumpy + plush cushion, looked at his watch, then at the time-table in his hand, + noted that the train was now seventy-two minutes late, and for at least + the fifteenth time mentally cursed the railway company, the whole of Cape + Cod from Sandwich to Provincetown, and the fates which had brought him + there. + </p> + <p> + The train slowed down, in a jerky, hiccoughy sort of way, and crept on + till the car in which Mr. Graves was seated was abreast the lighted + windows of a small station, where it stopped. Peering through the + water-streaked pane at the end of his seat, the lawyer saw dim silhouettes + of uncertain outline moving about. They moved with provoking slowness. He + felt that it would be joy unspeakable to rush out there and thump them + into animation. The fact that the stately Atwood Graves even thought of + such an undignified proceeding is sufficient indication of his frame of + mind. + </p> + <p> + Then, behind the door which the brakeman, after announcing the station, + had closed again, sounded a big laugh. The heartiness of it grated on Mr. + Graves’s nerves. What idiot could laugh on such a night as this + aboard a train over an hour late? + </p> + <p> + The laugh was repeated. Then the door was flung briskly open, and a man + entered the car. He was a big man, broad-shouldered, inclined to + stoutness, wearing a cloth cap with a visor, and a heavy ulster, the + collar of which was turned up. Through the gap between the open ends of + the collar bristled a short, grayish beard. The face above the beard and + below the visor was sunburned, with little wrinkles about the eyes and + curving lines from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg + 3]</a></span> nostrils to the corners of the mouth. The upper lip was + shaved, and the eyebrows were heavy and grayish black. Cap, face, and + ulster were dripping with water. + </p> + <p> + The newcomer paused in the doorway for an instant, evidently to add the + finishing touch to a conversation previously begun. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I tell you, Ezra,” he called, over his shoulder, + “if it’s too deep to wade, maybe I can swim. Fat floats, they + tell me, and Abbie says I’m gettin’ fleshier every day. So + long.” + </p> + <p> + He closed the door and, smiling broadly, swung down the aisle. The pair of + calamity prophets broke off their lament over the declining fisheries and + greeted him almost jovially. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Cap’n!” cried one. “What’s the south + shore doin’ over here in this flood?” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter, Cap’n?” demanded the other. + “Broke loose from your moorin’s, have you? Did you ever see + such a night in your life?” + </p> + <p> + The man in the ulster shook hands with each of his questioners, removing a + pair of wet, heavy leather gloves as he did so. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t know’s I ever did, Dan,” he answered. + “Couldn’t see much of this one but its color—and that’s + black. I come over this mornin’ to attend to some business at the + court-house—deeds to some cranberry bog property I just bought—and + Judge Baxter made me go home with him to dinner. Stayed at his house all + the afternoon, and then his man, Ezra Hallett, undertook to drive me up + here to the depot. Talk about blind pilotin’! Whew! The Judge’s + horse was a new one, not used to the roads, Ezra’s near-sighted, and + I couldn’t use my glasses ’count of the rain. Let alone that, + ’twas darker’n the fore-hold of Noah’s ark. Ho, ho! + Sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> + we was in the ruts and sometimes we was in the bushes. I told Ez we’d + ought to have fetched along a dipsy lead, then maybe we could get our + bearin’s by soundin’s. ‘Couldn’t see ’em if + we did get ’em,’’ says he. ‘No,’ says I, + ‘but we could taste ’em. Man that’s driven through as + much Ostable mud as you have ought to know the taste of every road in + town.’” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you caught the train, anyhow,” observed Dan. + </p> + <p> + “Yup. If we’d been crippled as <i>well</i> as blind we could + have done that.” He seated himself just in front of the pair and + glanced across the aisle at Mr. Graves, to find the latter looking + intently at him. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty tough night,” he remarked, nodding. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the lawyer briefly. He did not encourage + conversation with casual acquaintances. The latest arrival had caught his + attention because there was something familiar about him. It seemed to + Graves that he must have seen him before; and yet that was very + improbable. This was the attorney’s first visit to Cape Cod, and he + had already vowed devoutly that it should be his last. He turned a + chilling shoulder to the trio opposite and again consulted the time-table. + Denboro was the next station; then—thank the Lord—South + Denboro, his destination. + </p> + <p> + Conversation across the aisle was brisk, and its subjects were many and + varied. Mr. Graves became aware, more or less against his will, that the + person called “Cap’n” was, if not a leader in politics + and local affairs, still one whose opinions counted. Some of those + opinions, as given, were pointed and dryly descriptive; as, for instance, + when a certain town-meeting candidate was compared to a sculpin—“with + a big head that sort of impresses you, till you get close enough to + realize it <i>has</i> to be big to make room for so much mouth.”<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> Graves, who + was fond of salt water fishing, knew what a sculpin was, and appreciated + the comparison. + </p> + <p> + The conductor entered the car and stopped to collect a ticket from his new + passenger. It was evident that he, too, was acquainted with the latter. + </p> + <p> + “Evening, Cap’n,” he said, politely. “Train’s + a little late to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “It is—for to-night’s train,” was the prompt + response, “but if it keeps on at the rate it’s travelin’ + now, it’ll be a little early for to-morrow mornin’s, won’t + it?” + </p> + <p> + The conductor laughed. “Guess you’re right,” he said. + “This is about as wet a storm as I’ve run through since I’ve + been on the road. If we get to Provincetown without a washout we’ll + be lucky.... Well, we’ve made another hitch. So far, so good.” + </p> + <p> + The brakeman swung open the door to shout, “Denboro! Denboro!” + the conductor picked up his lantern and hurried away, the locomotive + whistled hoarsely, and the train hiccoughed alongside another little + station. Mr. Graves, peering through his window, imagined that here the + silhouettes on the platform moved more briskly. They seemed almost + excited. He inferred that Denboro was a bigger and more wide-awake village + than Ostable. + </p> + <p> + But he was mistaken. The reason for the excitement was made plain by the + conductor a moment afterwards. That official entered the car, removed his + uniform cap, and rubbed a wet forehead with a wetter hand. + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen,” he said, “I’ve been expecting + it, and here it is. Mark me down as a good prophet, will you? There’s + a washout a mile further on, and a telegraph pole across the track. It’s + blowing great guns and raining pitchforks. It’ll be out of the + question for us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> + to go forward before daylight, if then. Darn a railroad man’s job + anyhow!” + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later Mr. Graves descended the steps of the car, his + traveling bag in one hand and an umbrella in the other. As soon as both + feet were securely planted on the platform, he put down the bag to wrestle + with the umbrella and the hurricane, which was apparently blowing from + four directions at once. Feeling his hat leaving his head, he became aware + that the umbrella had turned inside out. He threw the wreck violently + under the train and stooped to pick up the bag. The bag was no longer + there. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right,” said a calm voice behind him. “I’ve + got your satchel, neighbor. Better beat for harbor, hadn’t we? Here! + this way.” + </p> + <p> + The bewildered New Yorker felt his arm seized in a firm grip, and he was + rushed across the platform, through a deluge of wind-driven water, and + into a small, hot, close-smelling waiting room. When he pushed his hat + clear of his eyes he saw that his rescuer was the big man who boarded the + train at Ostable. He was holding the missing bag and smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Dirty weather, hey?” he observed, pleasantly. “Sorry + your umbrella had to go by the board. I see you was carryin’ too + much canvas and tried to run alongside in time to give you a tow; but you + was dismasted just as I got there. Here’s your dunnage, all safe and + sound.” + </p> + <p> + He extended the traveling bag at arm’s length. Mr. Graves accepted + his property and murmured thanks, not too cordially. His dignity and + temper had gone overboard with the umbrella, and he had not yet recovered + them. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” went on his companion, “here we are! And<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> I, for one, + wanted to be somewheres else. Caleb,” turning to the station master, + who came in at that moment, “any way of my gettin’ home + to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “’Fraid not, Cap’n,” was the answer. “I don’t + know of any. Guess you’ll have to put up at the hotel and wait till + mornin’.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s right,” agreed the passenger called “Dan,” + who was standing near. “That’s what Jerry and I are goin’ + to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you and Jerry are bound for Orham. I’m booked for + South Denboro, and that’s only seven miles off. I’d <i>swim</i> + the whole seven rather than put up at Sim Titcomb’s hotel. I’ve + been there afore, thank you! Look here, Caleb, can’t I hire a team + and drive over?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t know. S’pose you might ring up Pete + Shattuck and ask him. He’s pretty particular about his horses, + though, and I cal’late he—” + </p> + <p> + “All right. I’ll ring him up. Pete ought to get over some of + his particularness to oblige me. I’ve helped <i>him</i> once or + twice.” + </p> + <p> + He was on his way to the ticket office, where the telephone hung on the + wall. But Mr. Graves stepped forward and spoke to him. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, sir,” said the lawyer. “Did I understand you + to say you were going to South Denboro?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I am, if the powers—and Pete Shattuck—’ll + let me.” + </p> + <p> + “You were going to drive over? May I go with you? I’m very + anxious to get to South Denboro to-night. I have some very important + business there, and I want to complete it and get away to-morrow. I must + be back in New York by the morning following.” + </p> + <p> + The captain looked his questioner over. There was a doubtful look on his + face, and he smiled quizzically. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>“Well, + I don’t know, Mr.—” + </p> + <p> + “Graves is my name.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, Mr. Graves. This ain’t goin’ to be + a pleasure cruise exactly. You might get pretty wet.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care. I can get dry again when I get there. Of course + I shall share the expense of the livery. I shall be greatly obliged if I + may go with you. If not, I must try for a rig myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you feel that way about it, why, come ahead and welcome. I + was only warnin’ you, that’s all. However, with me aboard for + ballast, I guess we won’t blow away. Wait a jiffy till I get after + Pete.” + </p> + <p> + He entered the ticket office and raised a big hand to the little crank of + the telephone bell. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s see, Caleb,” he called; “what’s + Shattuck’s number?” + </p> + <p> + “Four long and two short,” answered the station master. + </p> + <p> + Graves, wondering vaguely what sort of telephone system was in use on Cape + Cod, heard his prospective pilot ring the instrument for a full two + seconds, repeating the ring four times altogether. This he followed with + two sharp tinkles. Then came a series of shouted “Hellos!” + and, at last, fragments of one-half of a dialogue. + </p> + <p> + “That you, Shattuck? Know who this is, don’t you? Yes, that’s + right.... Say, how many folks listen every time a bell rings on this line? + I’ve heard no less’n eight receivers come down so far.... Two + of ’em went up then, did you hear ’em?... Sartin ... I want to + hire a team to go over home with... To-night—Sartin ... I don’t + care.... Yes, you will, too... <i>Yes</i>, you <i>will</i>.... Send my man + back with it to-morrow....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" + id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> I don’t care <i>what</i> it is, so it’s + got four legs and wheels....” + </p> + <p> + And so on for at least five minutes. Then the captain hung up the receiver + and came back to the waiting room. + </p> + <p> + “Bargain’s made, Mr. Graves,” he announced. “Pete’ll + have some sort of a turn-out alongside soon’s he can get it + harnessed. If you’ve got any extra storm duds in that satchel of + yours, I’d advise you to put ’em on. We’re goin’ + to have a rough passage.” + </p> + <p> + Just how rough it was likely to be, Graves realized when he emerged from + the station to board the Shattuck buggy. “Pete” himself had + driven the equipage over from the livery stable. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t do this for anybody but you, Cap’n,” + he vouchsafed, in what might be called a reproachful shout. Shouting was + necessary, owing to the noise of the storm. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn’t do what?” replied the captain, looking first + at the ancient horse and then at the battered buggy. + </p> + <p> + “Let this horse out a night like this.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I should think night would be the only time you would let + him out.... There! there! never mind. Get aboard, Mr. Graves. Put your + satchel on the floor between your feet. Here, let me h’ist that boot + for you.” + </p> + <p> + The “boot” was a rubber curtain buttoned across the front of + the buggy, extending from the dashboard to just below the level of the + driver’s eyes. The lawyer clambered in behind it, the captain + followed, the end of the reins was passed through a slit in the boot, Mr. + Shattuck, after inquiring if they were “all taut,” gave the + command, “Gid-dap!” and horse and buggy moved around the + corner of the station, out into darkness. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg10]</a></span>Of + the next hour Graves’s memories are keen but monotonous,—a + strong smell of stable, arising from the laprobe which had evidently been + recently used as a horse blanket; the sound of hoofs, in an interminable + “jog, jog—splash, splash,” never hurrying; a series of + exasperated howls from the captain, who was doing his best to make them + hurry; the thunderous roar of rain on the buggy top and the shrieking gale + which rocked the vehicle on its springs and sent showers of fine spray + driving in at every crack and crevice between the curtains. + </p> + <p> + The view ahead, over the boot, was blackness, bordered by spidery trees + and branches whipping in the wind. Occasionally they passed houses sitting + well back from the road, a lighted window gleaming cozily. And ever, as + they moved, the storm seemed to gather force. + </p> + <p> + Graves noticed this and, at length, when his nervousness had reached the + breaking point, screamed a question in his companion’s ear. They had + attempted no conversation during the ride, the lawyer, whose contemptuous + opinion of the locality and all its inhabitants was now a conviction, + feeling that the result would not be worth the effort, and the captain + busy with his driving. + </p> + <p> + “It is blowing worse than ever, isn’t it?” yelled the + nervous Graves. + </p> + <p> + “Hey? No, just about the same. It’s dead sou’-west and + we’re getting out of the woods, that’s all. Up on those bare + hills we catch the full force of it right off the Sound. Be there pretty + soon now, if this Old Hundred of a horse would quit walkin in his ’sleep + and really move. Them lights ahead are South Denboro.” + </p> + <p> + The lights were clustered at the foot of a long and rather steep hill. + Down the declivity bounced and rocked<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> the buggy. The horse’s + hoofs sounded hollow on the planks of a bridge. The road narrowed and + became a village street, bordered and arched by tall trees which groaned + and threshed in the hurricane. The rain, as it beat in over the boot, had, + so the lawyer fancied, a salty taste. + </p> + <p> + The captain bent down. “Say, Mister,” he shouted, “where + was it you wanted to stop? Who is it you’re lookin’ for?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “I say—Heavens to Betsy! how that wind does screech!—I + say where’bouts shall I land you. This is South Denboro. Whose house + do you want to go to?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m looking for one of your leading citizens. Elisha Warren + is his name.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Elisha Warren. I—” + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted. There was a sharp crack overhead, followed by a + tremendous rattle and crash. Then down upon the buggy descended what, to + Graves, appeared to be an avalanche of scratching, tearing twigs and + branches. They ripped away the boot and laprobe and jammed him back + against the seat, their sharp points against his breast. The buggy was + jerked forward a few feet and stopped short. + </p> + <p> + He heard the clatter of hoofs and shouts of “Whoa!” and + “Stand still!” He tried to rise, but the tangle of twigs + before him seemed impenetrable, so he gave it up and remained where he + was. Then, after an interval, came a hail from the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Hi, there! Mr. Graves, ahoy! Hurt, be you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” the lawyer’s tone was doubtful. “No—o, + I—I guess not. That you, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>“Yes, + it’s me. Stand still, you foolhead! Quit your hoppin’ up and + down!” These commands were evidently addressed to the horse. “Glad + you ain’t hurt. Better get out, hadn’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I’m not sure that I can get out. What on earth has + happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Tree limb carried away. Lucky for us we got the brush end, ’stead + of the butt. Scooch down and see if you can’t wriggle out + underneath. I did.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Graves obediently “scooched.” After a struggle he managed + to slide under the tangle of branches and, at length, stood on his feet in + the road beside the buggy. The great limb had fallen across the street, + its heavy end near the walk. As the captain had said, it was fortunate for + the travelers that the “brush” only had struck the carriage. + </p> + <p> + Graves found his companion standing at the horse’s head, holding the + frightened animal by the bridle. The rain was descending in a flood. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” gasped the agitated New Yorker. “I’ll be + hanged if this isn’t—” + </p> + <p> + “Ain’t it? But say, Mr. Graves, <i>who</i> did you say you was + comin’ to see?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a person named Elisha Warren. He lives in this forsaken hole + somewhere, I believe. If I had known what an experience I must go through + to reach him, I’d have seen him at the devil.” + </p> + <p> + From the bulky figure at the horse’s head came a chuckle. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, Mr. Graves, if the butt of that limb had fetched us, + instead of t’other end, I don’t know but you <i>might</i> have + seen him there. I’m Elisha Warren, and that’s my house over + yonder where the lights are.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER II + </h3> + <p style="float: left; font-size: 100%; line-height: 80%; margin-top: 0;"> + “ + </p> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span>his + is your room, Mr. Graves,” said Miss Abigail Baker, placing the + lighted lamp on the bureau. “And here’s a pair of socks and + some slippers. They belong to Elisha—Cap’n Warren, that is—but + he’s got more. Cold water and towels and soap are on the washstand + over yonder; but I guess you’ve had enough <i>cold</i> water for one + night. There’s plenty hot in the bathroom at the end of the hall. + After you change your wet things, just leave ’em spread out on the + floor. I’ll come fetch ’em by and by and hang ’em to dry + in the kitchen. Come right downstairs when you’re ready. Anything + else you want? No? All right then. You needn’t hurry. Supper’s + waited an hour ’n’ a half as ’tis. ’Twon’t + hurt it to wait a spell longer.” + </p> + <p> + She went away, closing the door after her. The bewildered, wet and + shivering New Yorker stared about the room, which, to his surprise, was + warm and cozy. The warmth was furnished, so he presently discovered, by a + steam radiator in the corner. Radiators and a bathroom! These were modern + luxuries he would have taken for granted, had Elisha Warren been the sort + of man he expected to find, the country magnate, the leading citizen, + fitting brother to the late A. Rodgers Warren, of Fifth Avenue and Wall + Street. + </p> + <p> + But the Captain Warren who had driven him to South Denboro in the rain was + not that kind of man at all. His manner and his language were as far + removed from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> + those of the late A. Rodgers as the latter’s brown stone residence + was from this big rambling house, with its deep stairs and narrow halls, + its antiquated pictures and hideous, old-fashioned wall paper; as far + removed as Miss Baker, whom the captain had hurriedly introduced as + “my second cousin keepin’ house for me,” was from the dignified + butler at the mansion on Fifth Avenue. Patchwork comforters and feather + beds were not, in the lawyer’s scheme of things, fit associates for + radiators and up-to-date bathrooms. And certainly this particular Warren + was not fitted to be elder brother to the New York broker who had been + Sylvester, Kuhn and Graves’ client. + </p> + <p> + It could not be, it <i>could</i> not. There must be some mistake. In + country towns there were likely to be several of the same name. There must + be another Elisha Warren. Comforted by this thought, Mr. Graves opened his + valise, extracted therefrom other and drier articles of wearing apparel, + and proceeded to change his clothes. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Miss Abigail had descended the stairs to the sitting room. + Before a driftwood fire in a big brick fireplace sat Captain Warren in his + shirt-sleeves, a pair of mammoth carpet slippers on his feet, and the said + feet stretched luxuriously out toward the blaze. + </p> + <p> + “Abbie,” observed the captain, “this is solid comfort. + Every time I go away from home I get into trouble, don’t I? Last + trip I took to Boston, I lost thirty dollars, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Lost it!” interrupted Miss Baker, tartly. “Gave it + away, you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t <i>give</i> it away. I lent it. Abbie, you ought to + know the difference between a gift and a loan.” + </p> + <p> + “I do—when there is any difference. But if lendin’<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> Tim + Foster ain’t givin’ it away, then I miss my guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” with another chuckle, “Tim don’t feel that + way. He swore right up and down that he wouldn’t take a cent—as + a gift. I offered to make him a present of ten dollars, but he looked so + shocked that I apologized afore he could say no.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and then <i>lent</i> him that thirty. Shocked! The only thing + that would shock that good-for-nothin’ is bein’ set to work. + What possessed you to be such a soft-head, <i>I</i> don’t know. When + you get back a copper of that money I’ll believe the millennium’s + struck, that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Well, I’ll help you believe it—that is, if I have + time afore I drop dead of heart disease. Abbie, you’d make a good + lawyer; you can get up an argument out of a perfect agreement. I said the + thirty dollars was lost, to begin with. But I knew Tim Foster’s + mother when she used to think that boy of hers was the eighth wonder of + the world. And I promised her I’d do what I could for him long’s + I lived.... But it seems to me we’ve drifted some off the course, + ain’t we? What I started to say was that every time I go away from + home I get into trouble. Up to Boston ’twas Tim and his ‘loan.’ + To-night it’s about as healthy a sou’-wester as I’ve + ever been out in. Dan fetched in the team, has he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It’s in the stable. He says the buggy dash is pretty + well scratched up, and that it’s a wonder you and that Graves man wa’n’t + killed. Who is he, anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + “Land knows, I don’t.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know! Then what’s he doin’ here?” + </p> + <p> + “Changin’ his duds, I guess. That’s what I’d do if + I looked as much like a drowned rat as he did.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>“’Lisha + Warren! if you ain’t the most <i>provokin’</i> thing! Don’t + be so unlikely. You know what I mean. What’s he come here, to this + house, for?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t know, Abbie. I didn’t know he <i>was</i> comin’ + here till just as we got down yonder by Emery’s corner. I asked him + who he was lookin’ for, he said ‘Elisha Warren,’ and + then the tree caved in on us.” + </p> + <p> + “’Lisha, you—you don’t s’pose ’twas a—<i>sign</i>, + do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Sign?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a sign, a prophecy-like, a warnin’ that somethin’ + is goin’ to happen.” + </p> + <p> + The captain put back his head and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Sign somethin’ <i>had</i> happened, I should think,” he + answered. “What’s <i>goin’</i> to happen is that Pete + Shattuck’ll get his buggy painted free-for-nothin’, at my + expense. How’s supper gettin’ along? Is it ready?” + </p> + <p> + “Ready? It’s been ready for so long that it’ll have to + be got ready all over again if.... Oh! Come right in, Mr. Graves! I hope + you’re drier now.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Warren sprang from the chair to greet his visitor, who was + standing in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, come right in, Mr. Graves,” he urged, cordially. “Set + down by the fire and make yourself comf’table. Abbie’ll have + somethin’ for us to eat in a jiffy. Pull up a chair.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer came forward hesitatingly. The doubts which had troubled him + ever since he entered the house were still in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Captain,” he said. “But before I accept more + of your hospitality I feel I should be sure there is no mistake. I have + come on important business, and—” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>“Hold + on!” The captain held up a big hand. “Don’t you say + another word,” he commanded. “There’s just one business + that interests me this minute, and that’s supper. There’s no + mistake about <i>that</i>, anyhow. Did you say ‘Come ahead,’ + Abbie? or was you just going to? Good! Right into the dinin’ room, + Mr. Graves.” + </p> + <p> + The dining room was long and low. The woodwork was white, the floor green + painted boards, with braided rag mats scattered over them. There were + old-fashioned pictures on the walls, pictures which brought shudders to + the artistic soul of Atwood Graves. A broad bay window filled one side of + the apartment, and in this window, on shelves and in wire baskets, were + Miss Baker’s cherished and carefully tended plants. As for the + dining table, it was dark, old-fashioned walnut, as were the chairs. + </p> + <p> + “Set right down here, Mr. Graves,” ordered the captain. + “I’ll try to keep you supplied with solid cargo, and Abbie’ll + ’tend to the moistenin’. Hope that teapot is full up, Abbie. + Hot tea tastes good after you’ve swallered as much cold rain as Mr. + Graves and I have.... + Father-we-thank-thee-for-these-mercies-set-before-us-Amen.... How’s + your appetite when it comes to clam pie, Mr. Graves?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Graves’s appetite was good, and the clam pie was good. So, too, + were the hot biscuits and the tea and homemade preserves and cake. + Conversation during the meal was, for the most part, a monologue by the + captain. He gave Miss Baker a detailed and exaggerated account of his + adventures in Ostable, on board the train, and during the drive home. The + housekeeper listened, fidgeting in her chair. + </p> + <p> + “’Lisha Warren,” she interrupted, “how you do + talk! Rainin’ so hard you had to hold the reins taut to keep<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> the + horse’s head out of water so he wouldn’t drown! The idea!” + </p> + <p> + “Fact,” asserted Captain Warren, with a wink at his guest. + “And that wa’n’t the worst of it. ’Twas so dark I + had to keep feelin’ the buggy with my foot to be sure I was in it. + Ain’t that so, Mr. Graves?... Here! Abbie won’t like to have + you set lookin’ at that empty plate. She’s always afraid folks’ll + notice the gilt’s wearin’ off. Pass it over quick, and let me + cover it with some more pie.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and have some more tea,” urged Miss Abbie. “You + mustn’t pay attention to what he says, Mr. Graves,” she went + on. “Some day he’ll tell the truth by accident, and then I’ll + know it’s time to send for the doctor.” + </p> + <p> + Several times the lawyer attempted to mention the business which had + brought him to the Cape, and the probability of his having made a mistake. + But neither host nor housekeeper would listen. + </p> + <p> + “When you’ve been in South Denboro as long as I have,” + declared the former, “you’ll understand that the time to talk + business is when you can’t think of anything else. Wait till we get + into the settin’ room. Abbie, those six or eight biscuits I’ve + ate are gettin’ lonesome. I’ll take another for sociability, + thank you.” + </p> + <p> + But, at last, when all the biscuits but one were gone, and the cake plate + looked like the Desert of Sahara, the captain pushed back his chair, rose, + and led the way into the next room. Miss Baker remained to clear the + table. + </p> + <p> + “Set down by the fire, Mr. Graves,” urged the captain. “Nothin’ + like burnin’ wood to look hot and comf’table, is there? It don’t + always make you feel that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" + id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> way—that’s why I put in hot + water heat—but for looks and sociableness you can’t beat a log + fire. Smoke, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Occasionally. But, Captain Warren—” + </p> + <p> + “Here, try that. It’s a cigar the Judge gave me over to + Ostable. He smokes that kind reg’lar, but if you don’t like + it, throw it away. He ain’t here to see you do it, so you won’t + be fined for contempt of court. I’ll stick to a pipe, if you don’t + mind. Now we’re shipshape and all taut, I cal’late. Let’s + see, you wanted to talk business, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did. But before I begin I should like to be sure you are the + Elisha Warren I came from New York to interview. Is there another of that + name in Denboro?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. There’s Warrens a-plenty all through this section of + the Cape. Our family blew ashore here a hundred and fifty years ago, or + such matter. My dad’s name was Elisha; so was my grandfather’s. + Both sea cap’ns, and both dead. There’s another Elisha livin’ + over on the shore lane.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed. Then perhaps it is he I want.” + </p> + <p> + “P’raps. He’s keeper of the town poorhouse. I can tell + you better if you give me an idea what your business is.” + </p> + <p> + “I am an attorney. And now let me ask another question, please. Have + you—had you a brother in business in New York?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” The captain turned and looked his guest squarely in the + eye. His brows drew together. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve got a brother in New York,” he answered, slowly. + “Did <i>he</i> send you here?” + </p> + <p> + “Was your brother’s name A. Rodgers Warren?” + </p> + <p> + “‘A. Rodgers’? No. His name is Abijah Warren,<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> and—Wait! + His middle name is Rodgers, though. Did ’Bije send you to me?” + </p> + <p> + “A moment, Captain. Was your brother a broker?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. His office is—or used to be on Broad Street. What—” + </p> + <p> + “You have not heard from him for some time?” + </p> + <p> + “Not for eighteen years. He and I didn’t agree as well as we + might. Maybe ’twas my fault, maybe ’twas his. I have my own + ideas on that. If you’re lookin’ for ’Bije Warren’s + brother, Mr. Graves, I guess you’ve come to the right place. But <i>what</i> + he sent you to me for, or what he wants—for he wants somethin’, + or he wouldn’t have sent—I don’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you think he wanted something?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he’s ’Bije Warren, and I was brought up with + him. When we was young ones together, he went to school and I went to + work. He got the frostin’ on the cake, and I got the burnt part next + to the pan. He went to college, and I went to sea. He.... However, you + mustn’t think I find fault with him for that. I sp’iled him as + much as anybody, I guess. ’Twas later on that we.... Well, never + mind that, either. What is it he wants of me, after eighteen years?” + </p> + <p> + “He wants a good deal of you, Captain Warren. Or <i>did</i> want it.” + </p> + <p> + “Did? Don’t he want it now?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. Captain, I’m surprised that you haven’t + heard. It seems that I am the bearer of bad news. Your brother—” + </p> + <p> + “Is ’Bije <i>dead</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “He died ten days ago very suddenly. In a way it was a great shock + to us all, yet we have known that his heart was weak. He realized it, too.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>“So + ’Bije is dead, hey?” Captain Elisha’s face was very + grave, and he spoke slowly. “Dead! Well, well, well!” + </p> + <p> + He paused and looked into the fire. Graves saw again that vague + resemblance he had caught on the train, but had forgotten. He knew now why + he noticed it. Unlike as the two brothers were, unlike in almost every + way, the trace of family likeness was there. This sunburned, retired + captain <i>was</i> the New York financier’s elder brother. And this + certainty made Mr. Graves’s errand more difficult, and the cause of + it more inexplicable. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” he sighed. “So ’Bije has gone. I s’pose + you think it’s odd, maybe,” he went on, “that I ain’t + more struck down by the news. In a way, I am, and, in a way, I’m + mighty sorry, too. But, to speak truth, he and I have been so apart, and + have had nothin’ to do with each other for so long that—that, + well, I’ve come to feel as if I didn’t have a brother. And I + know he felt that way. Yes, and <i>wanted</i> to feel so—I know + that.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t say that, if I were you,” observed the + lawyer, gently. “I think you’re mistaken there.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain’t mistaken. Why, look here, Mr. Graves! There was a + time when I’d have got down on my knees and crawled from here to New + York to help ’Bije Warren. I lent him money to start in business. + Later on him and I went into partnership together on a—a fool South + American speculation that didn’t pan out for nothin’. I didn’t + care for that. I took my chance same as he did, we formed a stock company + all amongst ourselves, and I’ve got my share of the stock somewhere + yet. It may come in handy if I ever want to paper the <span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>barn. But ’twa’n’t + business deals of that kind that parted us, ’twas another matter. + Somethin’ that he did to other folks who’d trusted us and.... + Humph! this don’t interest you, of course.... Well, ’Bije was + well off, I know. His wife died way back in the nineties. She was one of + them fashionable women, and a hayseed salt-herrin’ of a bachelor + brother-in-law stuck down here in the sandheaps didn’t interest her + much—except as somethin’ to forget, I s’pose. I used to + see her name in the Boston papers occasionally, givin’ parties at + Newport and one thing a’nother. I never envied ’em that kind + of life. I’m as well fixed as I want to be. Got some money put by + for a rainy spell, comf’table house and land, best town on earth to + live in and work for; I’m satisfied and always have been. I wouldn’t + change for nothin’. But I’m nine year older than ’Bije + was—and yet I’m left alive. Hum!” + </p> + <p> + “Your brother had two children by his marriage,” said Graves, + after a moment of silence. + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Two children? Why, yes, I remember he did. Boy and girl, wa’n’t + they? I never saw em. They’ve growed up by this time, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the eldest, Caroline, is nearly twenty. The boy, Stephen, is a + year younger. It is concerning those children, Captain Warren, that I have + come to you.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha turned in his chair. “Hey?” he queried. “The + children? You’ve come to me about ’Bije’s children?” + </p> + <p> + Graves nodded. “Yes,” he answered, solemnly. “That is + what I meant by saying your brother had not forgotten you or wished to + forget you. In spite of the estrangement, it is evident that his + confidence in your judgment and integrity was supreme. His children<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> were his + idols, Captain Warren, and he has left them in your charge.” + </p> + <p> + The captain’s pipe fell to the hearth. + </p> + <p> + “<i>What</i>?” he shouted. “Left his children to—to + <i>me</i>! Mr. Graves, you’re—you’re out of your head—or + I am!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I’m perfectly sane. I have a copy of the will here, and—” + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by Miss Baker, who appeared at the door of the dining + room. “Did you want me, ’Lisha?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Her employer stared at her in a dazed, uncomprehending way. + </p> + <p> + “Want you?” he repeated. “Want you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I heard you holler, and I thought p’raps you was callin’ + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? No, I don’t want you, Abbie.... Holler! I shouldn’t + wonder! If all I did was holler, I’m surprised at myself. No, no! + Run along out and shut the door. Yes, shut it.... Now, Mr. Graves, say + that over again and say it slow.” + </p> + <p> + “I say that your brother has left his two children in your care + until the youngest shall become of age—twenty-one. I have a copy of + his will here, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, wait! let me think. Left his children to me!... to <i>me</i>. + Mr. Graves, had ’Bije lost all his money?” + </p> + <p> + “No. He was not the millionaire that many thought him. Miss Warren + and her brother will be obliged to economize somewhat in their manner of + living. But, with care <i>and</i> economy, their income should be quite + sufficient, without touching the principal, to—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on again; the income, you say. What is that income?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>“Roughly + speaking, a mere estimate, about twenty to twenty-five thousand yearly.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha had stooped to pick up the pipe he had dropped. His fingers + touched it, but they did not close. Instead he straightened up in his + chair as if suffering from an electric shock. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Graves,” he began; “Mr. Graves, are you cra—. + No, I asked you that before. But—but twenty <i>thousand</i> a—a + year! For mercy sakes, what’s the principal?” + </p> + <p> + “In the neighborhood of five hundred thousand, I believe. Of course, + we had no authority to investigate thoroughly. That will be a part of your + duties, but—” + </p> + <p> + “S-shh! Let me soak this into my brains a little at a time. ’Bije + leaves his children five hundred thousand, half a million, and—and + they’ve got to <i>economize</i>! And I’m.... Would you mind + readin’ me that will?” + </p> + <p> + The attorney drew a long envelope from his pocket, extracted therefrom a + folded document, donned a pair of gold-mounted eyeglasses, and began to + read aloud. + </p> + <p> + The will was short and very concise. “‘I, Abijah Rodgers + Warren, being of sound mind—’” + </p> + <p> + “You’re sartin that part’s true, are you?” broke + in the captain. + </p> + <p> + Graves nodded, rather impatiently, and continued. “‘Of sound + mind, memory and understanding, do make, publish and declare this to be my + last will and testament, in manner following, that is to say:— + </p> + <p> + “‘First:—I direct my executor hereinafter named to pay + my just debts and funeral expenses as soon as maybe convenient after my + decease.’” + </p> + <p> + “Did he owe much, think likely?” asked Captain Elisha. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>“Apparently + not. Very little beyond the usual bills of a household.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. Grocer and butcher and baker and suchlike. Well, I guess + they won’t have to put in a keeper. Heave ahead.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Second:—I give, devise and bequeath all my estate, + both real and personal, to my brother, Elisha Warren, if he survive—’” + </p> + <p> + The captain gasped. “To me?” he cried, in utter amazement. + “He leaves it to <i>me</i>? ’Bije leaves—say, Mr. + Graves, there’s some mistake here somewhere, sure! And besides, you + said—” + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute, Captain Warren, if you please. If you’ll be + patient and not interrupt, I’ll try to make the whole matter plain.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you can do <i>that</i>, you’ll have King Solomon and + all his wisdom beat a mile, that’s all I’ve got to say. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “‘To my brother, Elisha Warren, if he survive me, <i>in trust</i>, + nevertheless, for the following purpose, to wit:— + </p> + <p> + “‘To invest the same and to use the income thereof for the + education and maintenance of my two children, Caroline Edgecombe Warren—’” + </p> + <p> + “Edgecombe? Named for some of his wife’s folks, I presume + likely. Excuse me for puttin’ my oar in again. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “‘And Stephen Cole Warren—’” + </p> + <p> + “<i>That’s</i> his wife, sartin. She was a Cole. I swan, I beg + your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Until the elder, Caroline Edgecombe Warren, shall have + reached her twenty-first birthday, when one-half of the principal of said + estate, together with one-half of the accumulated interest, shall be given + to her, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> + trust continued for the education and maintenance of my son, Stephen Cole + Warren, until he shall have reached his twenty-first birthday, when I + direct that the remainder be given to him. + </p> + <p> + “‘Third:—I appoint as testamentary guardian of my said + children my said brother, Elisha Warren. + </p> + <p> + “‘Fourth:—I appoint as sole executor of this, my last + will and testament, my said brother, Elisha Warren. + </p> + <p> + “‘Fifth:—Imposing implicit trust and confidence in + Elisha Warren, my brother, I direct that he be not required to give bond + for the performance of any of the affairs or trusts to which he has been + herein appointed.’ + </p> + <p> + “The remainder,” concluded Graves, refolding the will, “is + purely formal. It is dated May 15th, three years ago. Your brother, + Captain Warren, evidently realized, although no one else seems to have + done so, the precarious state of his health, and prepared, as every + careful person should, for the great emergency.” + </p> + <p> + The attorney removed his eyeglasses and rubbed them with his handkerchief. + Captain Elisha sat silent, staring at the fire. After an interval, Graves + spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, Captain,” he went on, “my errand is now + plain. I come to acquaint you with your brother’s last wishes and to + ascertain whether or not you are willing to accept the trust and + responsibility he has laid upon you. As you doubtless know, the state + provides a legal rate of reimbursement for such services as yours will—or + may—be. Ahem!” + </p> + <p> + “May be? You mean I ain’t got to do this thing unless I want + to?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. You have the right to renounce the various appointments, + in which case another executor, trustee, and guardian will be appointed. I + realize, and I’m sure that your brother’s children will + realize, your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> + hesitance in assuming such a responsibility over persons whom you have + never even met.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I guess we’ll all realize it; you needn’t worry + about that. Look here, do the children know I’m elected?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Of course, the will has been read to them.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! I s’pose likely they was overcome with joy, wa’n’t + they?” + </p> + <p> + Graves bit his lip. Remembering the comments of Miss Caroline and her + brother when they learned of their uncle’s appointment, he had + difficulty in repressing a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he replied, slowly, “of course, one could + scarcely expect them to rejoice. They have never seen you. In fact, I + doubt if either of them knew their father had a brother, living.” + </p> + <p> + “Y-e-e-s. That part don’t surprise me. But the rest of it + does. By the miracles of the prophets! the rest of it does! That ’Bije—’Bije—should + leave his children and their money to <i>me</i> to take care of is passin’ + human belief, as our old minister used to say—....Humph! I s’pose + likely, Mr. Graves, you’d like to have me say yes or no to the thing + while you’re here, hey?” + </p> + <p> + Graves nodded. “It would be well to do so,” he said. “The + settlement of the estate must be taken in hand as soon as possible. The + law so directs.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see that. Well, what would you advise my doin’?” + </p> + <p> + To this direct question the lawyer returned a noncommittal answer. + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid that must be answered by yourself alone, Captain + Warren,” he said. “Of course, the acceptance of the trust will + necessarily involve much trouble and inconvenience,<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> especially to one of your—er—settled + and—er—conservative—I judge merely from what you have + said—your conservative habits. The estate is large, the investments + are, doubtless, many and varied, and the labor of looking into and + investigating them may require some technical skill and knowledge of + finance. Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm.... Well, I judge that that kind of skill and knowledge could + be hired, if a feller felt like payin’ fair wages; hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes. Any good lawyer could attend to that, under the + supervision of the executor, certainly. But there are other inconveniences + to a—a—” + </p> + <p> + “Country jay like me. I understand. Go ahead.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that you would probably be required to spend much, or all, + of the next two or three years in New York.” + </p> + <p> + “Would, hey? I didn’t know but bein’ as a guardian has + entire charge of the children and their money and all—I understand + that’s what he does have—he could direct the children fetched + down to where <i>he</i> lived, if he wanted to. Am I wrong?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” the lawyer’s hesitancy and annoyance was plainly + evident. “No-o. Of course, that <i>might</i> be done. Still, I—” + </p> + <p> + “You think that wouldn’t cause no more rejoicin’ than + some other things have? Yes, yes; I cal’late I understand, Mr. + Graves. Well, I guess you’ll have to give me to-night to chew over + this. I guess you will. It’s come on me so sudden, ’Bije’s + death and all, that I want to be by myself and think. I don’t want + to seem unsociable or lackin’ in hospitality. The whole house is + yours. Help yourself to it. But when I’m caught in a clove hitch, I + just have to set down and think myself out of it.<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> I <i>have</i> to. I was + built and launched that way, I guess, and maybe you’ll excuse me.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Captain Warren. You’re quite right in wishing to + deliberate on so important a matter. And, if you will excuse me in return, + I believe I will go to my room. I’ve had a rather wearing day.” + </p> + <p> + “And a damp evenin’. Yes, I’ll excuse and sympathize + with you, too. I’ll see you to your room, and I’ll hope you’ll + have consider’ble more sleep than I’m likely to get. Abbie!... + Abbie!... Fetch Mr. Graves’s lamp, won’t you, please?” + </p> + <p> + It was after two the next morning before Captain Elisha rose from his + chair by the fire and entered his bed chamber. Yet, when Atwood Graves + came down to breakfast, he found his host in the sitting room awaiting + him. + </p> + <p> + “Afore we tackle Abbie’s pancakes and fishballs, Mr. Graves,” + said the captain, “let’s get the rest of that will business + off our minds. Then we can have the pancakes to take the taste out of our + mouths, as you might say. And let me ask you one more question. This—er—er—Caroline + and Stephen, they’re used to livin’ pretty well—fashionable + society, and the like of that, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Their home was on Fifth Avenue, and the family moved in the + best circles.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! I should imagine life on twenty-odd thousand a year must be + pretty much all circles, one everlastin’ ‘turn your partners.’ + Well, Mr. Graves, my circles down here are consider’ble smaller, but + they suit me. I’m worth twenty-odd thousand myself, not in a year, + but in a lifetime. I’m selectman and director in the bank and + trustee of the church. When I holler ‘Boo,’ the South Denboro + folks—some of them, anyhow—set up and take notice. I can lead + the grand march down in this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" + id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> neighborhood once in a while, and I cal’late + I’m prettier leadin’ it than I would be doin’ a + solitaire jig for two years on the outside edge of New York’s best + circles. And I’m mighty sure I’m more welcome. Now my eyesight’s + strong enough to see through a two-foot hole after the plug’s out, + and I can see that you and ’Bije’s children won’t shed + tears if I say no to that will. No offense meant, you know; just common + sense, that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + This was plain speaking. Mr. Graves colored, though he didn’t mean + to, and for once could not answer offhand. + </p> + <p> + “So,” continued the captain, “I’ll ease your and + their minds by sayin’ that, the way I feel now, I probably sha’n’t + accept the trust. I <i>probably</i> sha’n’t. But I won’t + say sure I won’t, because—well, because ’Bije was my + brother; he was that, no matter what our diff’rences may have been. + And I know—I <i>know</i> that there must be some reason bigger than + ‘implicit trust’ and the other May-baskets for his appointin’ + me in his will. What that reason is I <i>don’t</i> know—yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you intend—?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what I intend—in the end. But for a + beginnin’, I cal’late to run down to New York some time durin’ + the next week, take a cruise ’round, and sort of look things over.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER III + </h3> + <p style="float: left; font-size: 100%; line-height: 80%; margin-top: 0;"> + “ + </p> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">I</span>t’s + a box of a place, though, isn’t it,” declared Mr. Stephen + Warren, contemptuously glancing about the library of the apartment. + “A box, by George! I think it’s a blooming shame that we have + to put up with it, Sis.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Warren sprawled in the most comfortable chair in the room, was looking + out through the window, across the wind-swept width of Central Park West, + over the knolls and valleys of the Park itself, now bare of foliage and + sprinkled with patches of snow. There was a discontented look on his face, + and his hands were jammed deep in his trousers pockets. + </p> + <p> + His sister, Caroline, sat opposite to him, also looking out at the + December landscape. She, too, was discontented and unhappy, though she + tried not to show it. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you say something,” snapped Stephen, after a + moment of silence. “<i>Isn’t</i> it a box of a place? Now + come.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the young lady, without looking at her brother. + “Yes, Steve, I suppose it is. But you must remember that we must + make the best of it. I always wondered how people could live in + apartments. Now I suppose I shall have to find out.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I maintain that we don’t have to. We aren’t + paupers, even though father wasn’t so well fixed as everyone + thought. With management and care, we could have stayed in the old house, + I believe, and kept up appearances,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" + id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> at least. What’s the use of + advertising that we’re broke?” + </p> + <p> + “But, Steve, you know Mr. Graves said—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I know. You swallowed every word Graves said, Caro, as if + he was the whole book of Proverbs. By George, <i>I</i> don’t; I’m + from Missouri.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Warren, being in the Sophomore class at Yale, was of the age when one + is constitutionally “from Missouri.” Probably King Solomon, at + sixty, had doubts concerning the scope and depth of his wisdom; at + eighteen he would have admitted its all-embracing infallibility without a + blush. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you,” continued Stephen, “there’s no sense + in it, Sis. You and I know plenty of people whose incomes are no larger + than ours. Do they ‘economize,’ as Graves is continually + preaching? They do not, publicly at least. They may save a bit, here and + there, but they do it where it doesn’t show and nobody knows. Take + the Blaisdells, for instance. When the Sodality Bank went up, and old + Blaisdell died, everybody said the family was down and out. They must have + lost millions. But did <i>they</i> move into ‘apartments’ and + put up a placard, ‘Home of the Dead-Brokes. Walk in and Sympathize?’ + I guess they didn’t! They went into mourning, of course, and that + let them out of entertaining and all that, but they stayed where they were + and kept up the bluff. That’s the thing that counts in this world—keeping + up the bluff.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but everyone knows they are—bluffing, as you call it.” + </p> + <p> + “What of it? They don’t really know, they only suspect. And I + met Jim Blaisdell yesterday and he shook my hand, after I had held it in + front of his eyes where he couldn’t help seeing it, and had the + nerve to tell me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg + 33]</a></span> he hoped things weren’t as bad with us as he had + heard.” + </p> + <p> + “I never liked the Blaisdells,” declared Caroline, + indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Neither did I. Neither do most people. But Jim is just as much in + the swim as he ever was, and he’s got his governor’s place on + the board of directors at the bank, now that it’s reorganized, and + an office down town, and he’s hand and glove with Von Blarcom and + all the rest. They think he’s a promising, plucky young man. They’ll + help his bluff through. And are his mother and sister dropped by the + people in their set? I haven’t noticed it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mrs. Corcoran Dunn told me that everyone was talking about + the Blaisdells and wondering how long they could keep it up. And the + newspapers have been printing all sorts of things, and hinting that young + Mr. Blaisdell’s appointment as director, after his father wrecked + the bank, was a scandal. At least, we haven’t <i>that</i> to bear up + under. Father was honest, if he wasn’t rich.” + </p> + <p> + “Who cares for the newspapers? They’re all run by demagogues + hunting sensations. What makes me feel the worst about all this is that + Stock Exchange seat of father’s. If I were only of age, so that I + could go down there on the floor, I tell you it wouldn’t be long + before you and I were back where we belong, Sis. But, no, I’m a kid, + so Graves thinks, in charge of a guardian—a <i>guardian</i>, by gad!” + </p> + <p> + He snorted, in manly indignation. Caroline, her pretty face troubled, rose + and walked slowly across the room. It was a large room, in spite of the + fact that it was one of a suite in an apartment hotel, and furnished + richly. A. Rodgers Warren spent his money with taste,<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> and spent it freely while + he lived. The furniture, the paintings, and bric-a-brac were of the very + best, chosen with care, here and abroad. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” sighed the girl. “I do hope Mr. Graves will + be well enough to call to-day. He expected to. Except for the telephone + message telling us that that <i>man</i> at Denboro—” + </p> + <p> + “Our dear Uncle Elisha,” put in Stephen, with sarcasm. “Uncle + ‘’Lish!’ Heavens! what a name!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! He can’t help his name. And father’s was worse + yet—Abijah! Think of it!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to think of it. Neither did the governor; that’s + why he dropped it, I suppose. Just what did Graves say? Give me his exact + words.” + </p> + <p> + “His partner, Mr. Kuhn, telephoned. He said that Mr. Graves had a + bad cold, having been wet through in a dreadful storm down there in the + country. The doctor forbade his leaving the house for a day or two, but he + would call on Tuesday—to-day—if he was sufficiently recovered. + And Mr. Kuhn said that everything was satisfactory. This Captain Warren—a + ship captain, I suppose he is—would, in all probability, refuse to + accept the guardianship and the rest of it—” + </p> + <p> + “Refuse? I should think so. I’m just as certain father was + insane when he made that will as I am that I’m alive. If I thought + he wasn’t, I’d never forgive him.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Steve. You promised me you wouldn’t speak in that way.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, all right, I won’t. But, Caro, he <i>must</i> have been + insane. If he wasn’t, do you suppose he would have put us and the + estate in the care of a Down-East jay? It’s inconceivable! It’s + ridiculous! Think of it. Suppose this uncle of ours had accepted. Suppose + he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> + had come to town here and any of our friends had met him. ‘This is + our guardian, Captain Warren, of Punkin Centre.’ ‘Please to + meet ye,’ says Uncle ’Lish. ‘How’s taters?’ + Horrors! Say, Caro, you haven’t told anyone, Malcolm or his mother, + or anyone, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not, Steve. You know I wouldn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t. They needn’t know it, now or at any other + time. Graves will probably get himself appointed, and he’s + respectable if he is an old fogy. We’ll worry along till I’m + twenty-one, and then—well, then I’ll handle our business + myself.” + </p> + <p> + Evidently there was no question in his mind as to his ability to handle + this or any business, no matter how involved. He rose from his chair and + yawned. + </p> + <p> + “It’s deadly dull,” he complained. “You don’t + need me, do you, Caro? I believe I’ll go out for a while. That is, + unless you really care.” + </p> + <p> + His sister hesitated before replying. When she spoke, there was + disappointment in her tone. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Steve,” she said, “I did hope you might be here + when Mr. Graves came. He will wish to speak of important matters, and it + seems to me that both of us should hear what he has to say.” + </p> + <p> + Young Warren, who had started for the door, stopped and kicked impatiently + at the corners of the rug. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, <i>well</i>!” he observed, “if you want me of + course I’ll stay. But why doesn’t old Graves come, if he is + coming. Maybe he’s under the weather yet,” he added, + hopefully. “Perhaps he isn’t coming at all to-day. I believe I’ll + call up Kuhn on the ’phone and find out.” + </p> + <p> + He was on his way to the telephone when the doorbell buzzed. + </p> + <p> + “Gad! there he is now,” he exclaimed. “Now I suppose<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> I’ll + have to stay. We’ll hear about dear Uncle ’Lish, won’t + we? Oh, joy!” + </p> + <p> + But the staid butler, when he entered the library, did not announce the + lawyer’s name. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Corcoran Dunn and Mr. Malcolm,” he said. “Will you + see them, Miss Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + The young lady’s face lit up. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Edwards,” she said. “Show them—Oh, + Mrs. Dunn, I’m so glad to see you! It was <i>ever</i> so good of you + to come. And Malcolm.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. M. Corcoran Dunn was tall and, in South Denboro, would have been + called “fleshy,” in spite of her own and the dressmaker’s + efforts to conceal the fact. She was elaborately gowned and furred, and + something about her creaked when she walked. She rushed into the room, at + the butler’s heels, and, greeting Caroline with outstretched hands, + kissed her effusively on the cheek. + </p> + <p> + “My dear child,” she cried, “how could I stay away? We + have spoken of you and Stephen <i>so</i> often this morning. We know how + lonely you must be, and Malcolm and I decided we <i>must</i> run in on you + after lunch. Didn’t we, Malcolm?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Malcolm Corcoran Dunn, her son, was a blond young man, with a rather + indolent manner. + </p> + <p> + “Sure, Mater!” he said, calmly. “How d’ye do, + Caroline? ’Lo, Steve!” + </p> + <p> + The quartette shook hands. Mrs. Dunn sank creakingly into a chair and + gazed about the room. Malcolm strolled to the window and looked out. + Stephen followed and stood beside him. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said Mrs. Dunn, addressing Caroline, “how are + you getting on? How are your nerves? Is all the dreadful ‘settling’ + over?” + </p> + <p> + “Very nearly, thank goodness.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>“That’s + a mercy. I should certainly have been here yesterday to help you in + superintending and arranging and so on, but I was suffering from one of my + ‘hearts,’ and you know what <i>they</i> are.” + </p> + <p> + Everyone who knew Mrs. Corcoran Dunn was acquainted with her “hearts.” + The attacks came, so she was accustomed to explain, from an impaired + valve, and “some day”—she usually completed the sentence + with upturned eyes and a resigned upward wave of the hand. + </p> + <p> + Her son turned from the window. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Mother,” he explained, wearily, “I do wish you + wouldn’t speak of your vital organs in the plural. Anyone would + imagine you were a sort of freak, like the two-headed boy at the circus. + It’s positively distressing.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen laughed. He admired young Dunn immensely. Mrs. Dunn sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t, Malcolm, dear,” she pleaded. “You sound so + unfeeling. One not acquainted with your real kindness of heart—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, drop it,” interrupted Malcolm. “Let’s omit + the heart interest. This isn’t a clinic. I say, Steve, how do you + like the new flat? It is a flat, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + Stephen turned red. His sister colored and bit her lip. Mrs. Dunn hastened + to the rescue. + </p> + <p> + “Horrors!” she exclaimed. “Malcolm, you really are + insufferable. Flat! Caroline, dear, you mustn’t mind him. He will + have his joke. Malcolm, apologize.” + </p> + <p> + The command was sharp, and her son obeyed it. + </p> + <p> + “Beg your pardon, Steve,” he said. “Yours, too, + Caroline. I was only joking. There’s a little beast of a bookkeeper + down at the office who is forever talking of his ‘nice flat in the + Bronx.’ It’s a standing guy, you know. So far as I can see, + these are pretty snug<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg + 38]</a></span> quarters. And attractively arranged, too. Your taste, + Caroline, I’m betting.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Warren, slightly mollified, bowed assent. + </p> + <p> + “I thought so,” continued Malcolm. “No one but you would + have known exactly the right spot for everything. Show us through, won’t + you?” + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Dunn had other plans. + </p> + <p> + “Not now, Malcolm,” she put in. “Caroline is tired out, + I’m sure. A little fresh air will do her good. I was going to + suggest that you and she and Stephen go for a short ride. Yes, really you + must, my dear,” she added, turning to the girl beside her. “Our + car is at the door, it’s not at all a bad afternoon, and the outing + will be just what you need.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mrs. Dunn,” said Caroline, gratefully. “I + should like to. Indeed, I should. But we have been expecting a business + call from Mr. Graves, father’s lawyer, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come on, Sis!” interrupted Stephen. “I’m + dying to get out of this jail. Let old Graves wait, if he comes. We won’t + be long; and, besides, it’s not certain that he is coming to-day. + Come on!” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid I ought not, Steve. Mr. Graves may come, and—and + it seems too bad to trouble our friends—” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not trouble, it’s pleasure,” urged Mrs. + Dunn. “Malcolm will be delighted. It was his idea. Wasn’t it?” + turning to her son. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! certainly,” replied the young gentleman. “Hope + you’ll come, Caroline. And you, of course, Steve. The blessed + machine’s been off its feed for a week or more, but Peter says he + thinks it’s all right again. We’ll give it a try-out on the + Drive. Hope we have better luck than my last,” with a laugh. “They<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> nabbed + us for speeding, and I had to promise to be a good boy or to be fined. + Said we were hitting it at fifty an hour. We <i>were</i> going some, that’s + a fact. Ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + “But he won’t be reckless when you’re with him, + Caroline,” put in his mother. “You will go? That’s so + nice! As for Mr. Graves, I’ll explain if he comes. Oh, no! <i>I’m</i> + not going! I shall remain here in this comfortable chair and rest until + you return. It’s exactly what my physician orders, and for once I’m + going to obey him. My heart, you know, my poor heart—” + </p> + <p> + She waved her hand and raised her eyes. Miss Warren expostulated, but to + no purpose. Mrs. Corcoran Dunn would <i>not</i> go, but the others must. + So, at last, they did. When Caroline and her brother had gone for their + wraps, Mrs. Dunn laid a hand on her son’s arm. + </p> + <p> + “Now mind,” she whispered, “see if you can find out + anything during the ride. Something more explicit about the size of their + estate and who the guardian is to be. There are all sorts of stories, you + know, and we <i>must</i> learn the truth very soon. Don’t appear + curious, but merely friendly. You understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure, Mater,” was the careless answer. “I’ll + pump.” + </p> + <p> + The two departed, leaving their lady visitor ensconced in the comfortable + chair. She remained in it for perhaps five minutes. Then she rose and + sauntered about the room. She drifted into the drawing-room, returning a + moment later and sauntering casually toward the open desk by the + fireplace. There were papers and letters scattered about this desk, and + these she turned over, glancing toward the door to be sure no one was + coming. The letters were, for the most part, messages of sympathy from + friends of the Warren family. Hearing an approaching step, she hastily + returned to the chair. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> + Edwards, the butler, entered the library and replenished the fire. Mrs. + Dunn languidly accosted him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—er—Edwards,” she said, “you are—er—growing + familiar with your new home?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am,” replied Edwards, politely. + </p> + <p> + “It must seem—er—small compared to the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Smaller; yes, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “But very snug and comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma ’am.” + </p> + <p> + “It is fortunate that Miss Warren and her brother have the aid of + such a—an old servant of the family.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Miss Caroline managing her own affairs?” + </p> + <p> + “Apparently so. Yes, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “I presume, however, a guardian has been appointed? With an estate + such as the late Mr. Warren <i>must</i> have left, some responsible person + would be, of course, necessary.” + </p> + <p> + She paused. Edwards, having arranged the logs to his liking, brushed the + dust from his hands. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, ma’am, I’m sure,” he said. + “Neither Miss Caroline nor Mr. Stephen have spoken with me + concerning the family affairs.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Corcoran Dunn straightened, with hauteur. + </p> + <p> + “I think that was the doorbell,” she remarked, a trifle + sharply. “If it should be Mr. Graves, the attorney, you may show him + into the library here.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am,” said Edwards once more, and departed. + </p> + <p> + The lady visitor heard voices in the passage. She listened, but could hear + nothing understandable. Evidently the butler was having an argument with + someone. It could not be Graves. + </p> + <p> + Edwards reappeared, looking troubled. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a—a gentleman to see Miss Caroline,” he + said. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>“He + won’t give his name, ma’am, but says she’s expecting + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Expecting him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am. I told him she was out, but he said he was + intending to stay a while anyway, and would wait. I asked his business, + but he wouldn’t tell it.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s odd.” Mrs. Dunn was slightly interested. “A + tradesman, perhaps; or an agent of the landlord.” + </p> + <p> + “No-o, ma’am. I don’t think he’s either of them, + ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a person is he, Edwards?” + </p> + <p> + The butler’s face twitched for an instant with a troubled smile. + Then it resumed its customary respectful calm. + </p> + <p> + “I hardly know, ma’am. He’s an oddish man. He—I + think he’s from the country.” + </p> + <p> + From behind him came a quiet chuckle. + </p> + <p> + “You’re right, Commodore,” said a man’s voice; + “I’m from the country. You guessed it.” + </p> + <p> + Edwards jumped, startled out of his respectable wits. Mrs. Dunn rose + indignantly from her chair. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, ma’am,” said the intruder, appearing + in the doorway. “You mustn’t think I’m forcin’ my + way where I ain’t wanted. But it seemed to take so long to make the + Admiral here understand that I was goin’ to wait until Caroline came + back that I thought I’d save time and breath by provin’ it to + him. I didn’t know there was any company. Excuse me, ma’am, I + won’t bother you. I’ll just come to anchor out here in the + entry. Don’t mind me.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed politely, picked up the large suit-case, plainly bran-new, which + he had momentarily placed on the rug at his feet, and, with it in one hand + and a big soft felt hat in the other, stepped back into the hall out of + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>sight. + The astonished Mrs. Dunn and the paralyzed Edwards heard a chair crack as + if a heavy weight had descended upon it. Evidently he had “come to + anchor.” + </p> + <p> + The lady was the first to recover the power of speech. + </p> + <p> + “Why!” she exclaimed, in an alarmed whisper. “Why! I + never heard of such brazen impertinence in my life. He must be insane. He + is a lunatic, isn’t he, Edwards?” + </p> + <p> + The butler shook his head. “I—I don’t know, ma’am,” + he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “I believe he is.” Mrs. Dunn’s presence of mind was + returning, and with it her courage. Her florid cheeks flamed a more vivid + red, and her eyes snapped. “But whether he is or not, he sha’n’t + bulldoze me.” + </p> + <p> + She strode majestically to the door. The visitor was seated in the hall, + calmly reading a newspaper. Hat and suit-case were on the floor beside + him. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by this?” demanded the lady. “Who are + you? If you have any business here, state it at once.” + </p> + <p> + The man glanced at her, over his spectacles, rose and stood looking down + at her. His expression was pleasant, and he was remarkably cool. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am,” he said, gravely. “I’ll be + glad to tell you who I am, if you’d like to have me. I’d have + done it before, but I thought there weren’t any use troublin’ + you with my affairs. But, just a minute—” he hesitated—“I + haven’t made any mistake, have I? I understood your steward—the + feller with the brass buttons, to say that Abijah Warren’s children + lived here. That’s so, ain’t it? If not, then I <i>am</i> + mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn regarded him with indignation. “You are,” she said + coldly. “The family of the late<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> Mr. Rodgers Warren lives + here. I presume the slight resemblance in names misled you. Edwards, show + the gentleman out.” + </p> + <p> + “Just one moment more, ma’am. It was Rodgers Warren’s + children I was lookin’ for. A. Rodgers Warren he called himself, + didn’t he? Yes. Well, the A stood for Abijah; that was his Christian + name. And he left two children, Caroline and Stephen? Good! I thought for + a jiffy I’d blundered in where I had no business, but it’s all + right. You see, ma’am, I’m their uncle from South Denboro, + Massachusetts. My name is Elisha Warren.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn gasped. Edwards, peering over her shoulder, breathed heavily. + </p> + <p> + “You are—their <i>uncle</i>?” repeated the lady. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am. I’m ’Bije’s brother. Oh, don’t + worry. It’s all right. And don’t fret yourself about me, + either. I’ll set right down out here and read my paper and wait till + Caroline or Stephen get home. They’re expectin’ me. Mr. + Graves, the lawyer, told ’em I was comin’.” + </p> + <p> + He calmly seated himself and adjusted his spectacles. Mrs. Dunn stared at + him, then at Edwards. After an instant’s indecision, she stepped + back into the library and walked to the window. She beckoned, with an + agitated finger, to the butler, who joined her. + </p> + <p> + “Edwards,” she whispered, “did you hear what he said?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am,” replied Edwards, wide-eyed and wondering. + </p> + <p> + “Is it true?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Did Mr. Warren have a brother?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know that he had, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>“Do + you—do you think it likely that he would have a brother like—like + <i>that</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Was Miss Caroline expecting him?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, ma’am. She—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you don’t know anything! You’re impossible. Go + away!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am,” said Edwards thankfully; and went. Mrs. + Corcoran Dunn stood for some minutes by the window, thinking, or trying to + think a way to the truth in this astounding development. Of course the man + <i>might</i> be a lunatic who had gained his information concerning the + Warren family from the papers; but he did not look like a lunatic. On the + other hand, he certainly did not look as one would have expected a brother + of Rodgers Warren’s to look. Oddest of all, if he was such a + brother, why had neither Caroline or Stephen mentioned his existence? + According to his story, Graves, the Warren lawyer, had warned the children + of his coming. Caroline had been very reticent concerning her father’s + will, the amount of his estate, and the like. And Mrs. Dunn had + repeatedly, though discreetly, endeavored to find out these important + details. Neither hints nor questions had resulted satisfactorily. Was it + possible that this was the reason, this country uncle? If so—well, + if so, here was a Heaven-sent opportunity for a little genteel and + perfectly safe detective work. Mrs. Dunn creakingly crossed the room and + spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Warren,” she said, “I feel guilty in keeping you + out there. Won’t you come into the library?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, thank you, ma’am, I’m all right. Don’t you + trouble about me. Go right on with your readin’ or sewin’ or + knittin’ or whatever you was doin’ and—” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>“I + was not reading,” replied Mrs. Dunn, with a slight shudder. “Come + in, please. I wish you to.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha folded his paper and put it in his pocket. Entering the + library, he stood quietly waiting. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you sit down?” asked his impromptu hostess, + trying hard to be gracious. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said the captain. He sank into an armchair and + looked curiously about him. + </p> + <p> + “So you are the late Mr. Warren’s brother?” asked the + lady, making her first lead in the game. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am. His older brother. ’Bije was ten year + younger’n I am, Mrs.—er—” + </p> + <p> + “Dunn. I am an old friend of the family.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s good. I’m glad to hear they’ve got + friends. When you’re in sickness or trouble or sorrer, friendship + counts for consider’ble. How are the young folks—Caroline and + Stephen—pretty smart, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Smart</i>? Why, they are intelligent, naturally. I—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. I mean are they pretty well?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, indeed, considering the shock of their recent + bereavement.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. Of course. And they’ve moved, too. Movin’s an + awful job. They say three movin’s are as bad as a fire, but I cal’late + I’d rather burn up a set of carpets than <i>pull</i> ’em up, + ’specially if they was insured. ’Tain’t half so much + strain on your religion. I remember the last time we took up our carpets + at home, Abbie—she’s my second cousin, keepin’ house for + me—said if gettin’ down on my knees has that effect on me she’d + never ask me to go to prayer-meetin’ again. Ho! ho!” + </p> + <p> + He chuckled. Mrs. Dunn elevated her nose and looked out of the window. + Then she led another small trump. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>“You + say that Miss Caroline and her brother expect you,” she said. + “You surprise me. Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, ma’am. I’m sure. When Mr. Graves came down to + see me, last week ’twas, I told him to say I’d be up pretty + soon to look the ground over. This is a pretty fine place the young folks + have got here,” he added, gazing admiringly at the paintings and + bookcases. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” assented the lady, condescendingly. “For an + apartment it is really quite livable.” + </p> + <p> + “Livable!” Captain Elisha’s astonishment got the better + of his politeness for the moment. “Um! Yes, I should say a body <i>might</i> + manage to worry along in it. Was the place where they used to live any + finer than this?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly!” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t tell me! No wonder they talked about economi—Humph!” + </p> + <p> + “What were you about to say, Mr. Warren?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin’, nothin’! Talkin’ to myself is a + habit I’ve got. Abbie—my second cousin; I guess I told you + about her—says it’s a sure sign that a person’s rich or + out of his head, one or t’other. I ain’t rich, so—” + He chuckled once more. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Graves came to see you at your home, did he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am. At South Denboro. And he certainly did have a + rough passage. Ho! ho! Probably you heard about it, bein’ so + friendly with the family.” + </p> + <p> + “Ahem! Doubtless he would have mentioned it, but he has been ill.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! I’m sorry to hear that. I was afraid he’d catch + cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I hope Mr. Graves’s errand was successful?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sort of so-so.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>“Yes. + He came to see you in connection with your brother’s estate—some + legacy, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + She did not look at the captain when she asked this question. Therefore, + she did not notice the glance which he gave her. When he answered, it was + in the same deliberate, provokingly deliberate, manner. + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Somethin’ of that kind, Mrs. Dunn. I can’t help + thinkin’,” he went on, “how nice it is that Caroline and + Steve have such a good friend as you to help ’em. Your husband and + ’Bije was chums, I s’pose?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not exactly. The friendship was on my side of the family.” + </p> + <p> + “So? Want to know! Your husband dead, ma’am?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn changed the subject. Her husband, Mr. Corcoran Dunn—once + Mike Dunn, contractor and Tammany politician—was buried in Calvary + Cemetery. She mourned him, after a fashion, but she preferred not to talk + about him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered shortly. “It—it looks as if it + might snow, doesn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t wonder. Have you any children, ma’am?” + </p> + <p> + “One—a son.” The widow’s tone was frigid. + </p> + <p> + “So? He must be a comfort to you. I s’pose likely he’s a + friend of my nephew and niece, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s good. Young folks ought to have young friends. You + live in this neighborhood, ma’am?” + </p> + <p> + The lady did not answer. She gazed haughtily at the trees in the Park. + Captain Elisha rubbed a smile from his lips with his hand and remained + silent. The tall clock ticked loud. + </p> + <p> + There came the sound of laughter from the passage<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> outside. The hall door + opened. A moment later, Caroline, followed by her brother and young Dunn, + entered the library. + </p> + <p> + The girl’s cheeks were rosy from the cold wind. Her hair, beneath + the fur auto cap, had blown in brown, rippled disorder across her + forehead. She was smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mrs. Dunn!” she cried. “I’m so glad I + accepted your—Malcolm’s—invitation. We had a glorious + ride! I—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short. Captain Warren had risen from his chair and was facing + her. Mrs. Dunn also rose. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline,” she said, nervously, “this”—pausing + on the word—“gentleman is here to see you. He says he is—” + </p> + <p> + The captain interrupted her. Stepping forward he seized his niece’s + hands in his. “Well, well!” he exclaimed admiringly. “’Bije’s + girl, that I ain’t seen since you was a little mite of a baby! + Caroline, I’m your Uncle Elisha.” + </p> + <p> + “Good <i>Lord</i>!” groaned Stephen Warren. + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER IV + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">I</span>f + the captain heard Stephen’s fervent ejaculation, he paid no + attention to it. Dropping his niece’s hand, he extended his own + toward his nephew. + </p> + <p> + “And this is Stephen?” he said. “Well, Steve, you and me + have never met afore, I b’lieve. But that’s our misfortune, + not our fault, hey? How are you? Pretty smart?” + </p> + <p> + The boy’s face was flaming. He mumbled something to the effect that + he was all right enough, and turned away without accepting the proffered + hand. Captain Elisha glanced quickly at him, then at his sister. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Caroline,” he said, pleasantly, “I s’pose + you’ve been expectin’ me. Mr. Graves told you I was comin’, + didn’t he?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Warren, also, was flushed with embarrassment and mortified surprise. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she stammered. “He has been ill.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! you don’t say! Mrs. Dunn—your friend here—said + he was laid up with a cold, but I didn’t realize ’twas as bad + as that. So you didn’t know I was comin’ at all.” + </p> + <p> + “No. We—we have not heard from you since he returned.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s too bad. I hope I sha’n’t put you out any, + droppin’ in on you this way. You mustn’t treat me as comp’ny, + you know. If ’tain’t convenient, if your spare room ain’t + ready so soon after movin’, or anything of<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> that kind, I can go to a + hotel somewheres for a day or so. Hadn’t I better, don’t you + think?” + </p> + <p> + Caroline hesitated. If only they might have been spared this public + humiliation. If the Dunns had not been there. It was bad enough to have + this dreadful country uncle come at all; but to have him come now, before + they were prepared, before any explanations had been made! What should she + do? + </p> + <p> + Her brother, fidgeting at her elbow, not daring to look at Malcolm Dunn, + who, he knew, was thoroughly enjoying the scene, could stand it no longer. + </p> + <p> + “Caro,” he snapped, “what are you waiting for? Don’t + you <i>know</i> that the rooms are not ready? Of course they’re not! + We’re sorry, and all that, but Graves didn’t tell us and we + weren’t prepared. Certainly he’ll have to go to the hotel, for—for + the present.” + </p> + <p> + He ventured to raise his eyes and glare indignantly at the captain. + Finding the latter looking intently at him, he dropped them again and + jammed his clenched fists into his pockets. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha pulled thoughtfully at his beard. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted. “Humph! then I cal’late maybe—” + He took a step toward the door, stopped, turned back, and said, with calm + decision, “I guess I’d better stay. You won’t mind me, + Caroline—you and Stephen. You <i>mustn’t</i>. As I said, I ain’t + comp’ny. I’m one of the family, your pa’s brother, and I’ve + come some consider’ble ways to see you two young folks and talk with + you. I’ve come because your pa asked me to. I’m used to + roughin’ it, been to sea a good many v’yages, and if a feather + bed ain’t handy I can get my forty winks on the floor. So that’s + settled, and you mustn’t have me on your conscience. That’s + sense, ain’t it, Mrs. Dunn?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>Mrs. + Corcoran Dunn did not deign a reply. Caroline answered for her. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” she said, coldly. Stepping to the desk she rang a + bell. The butler appeared in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “Edwards,” said Miss Warren, “this gentleman,” + indicating the captain, “is to be our guest, for the present. You + may show him to his room—the blue room, I think. If it is not ready, + see that it is made so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Miss Caroline,” replied Edwards. Retiring to the hall, + he returned with the suit-case. + </p> + <p> + “Will you wish to go to your room at once, sir?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I guess I might as well, Commodore,” answered Captain + Elisha, smiling. “Little soap and water won’t do no harm. Fact + is, I feel’s if ’twas a prescription to be recommended. You + needn’t tote that valise, though,” he added. “’Tain’t + heavy, and I’ve lugged it so fur already sence I got off the car + that I feel kind of lonesome without it.” + </p> + <p> + The butler, not knowing exactly how to answer, grinned sheepishly. Captain + Elisha turned to Mrs. Dunn and her son. + </p> + <p> + “Well, good afternoon, ma’am,” he said. “I’m + real glad to have made your acquaintance. Yours, too, sir,” with a + nod toward Malcolm. “Your mother told me what a friend of the young + folks you was, and, as I’m sort of actin’ pilot for ’em + just now, in a way of speakin’, any friend of theirs ought to be a + friend of mine. Hope to see you often, Mr. Dunn.” + </p> + <p> + The young man addressed smiled, with amusement not at all concealed, and + languidly admitted that he was “charmed.” + </p> + <p> + “Your first visit to the city?” he inquired, in a tone which + caused Stephen to writhe inwardly. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>“No-o. + No, not exactly. I used to come here pretty frequent, back in my sea-goin’ + days, when my ship was in port. I sailed for Osgood and Colton, down on + South Street, for a spell. They were my owners. You don’t remember + the firm, I s’pose?” + </p> + <p> + “No. The privilege has been denied me. You find some changes in New + York, don’t you—er—Captain? You are a captain, or a bos’n, + or admiral—something of that sort, I presume?” + </p> + <p> + “Malcolm!” said his mother, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no offense intended. My sea terms are rather mixed. The captain + will excuse me.” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin! Cap’n’s what they all call me, mostly. Your son + ain’t ever been to sea, except as passenger, I cal’late, ma’am?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” snapped Mrs. Dunn. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, of course. Well, ’tain’t a life I’d + want a boy of mine to take up, nowadays. But it did have some advantages. + I don’t know anything better than a v’yage afore the mast to + learn a young feller what’s healthy for him to unlearn. Good day, ma’am. + Good day, Mr. Dunn. I mustn’t keep the Commodore waitin’ here + with that valise. I’ll be out pretty soon, Caroline; just as soon as + I’ve got the upper layer of railroad dust off my face and hands. You’ll + be surprised to see how light-complected I really am when that’s + over. All right! Heave ahead, Commodore!” + </p> + <p> + He departed, preceded by Edwards and the suit-case. Stephen Warren threw + himself violently into a chair by the window. Young Dunn laughed aloud. + His mother flashed an indignant glance at him, and then hurried to + Caroline. + </p> + <p> + “You poor dear!” she exclaimed, putting an arm about the girl’s + shoulder. “Don’t mind us, please don’t!<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> Malcolm + and I understand. That is, we know how you feel and—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but you <i>don’t</i> know, Mrs. Dunn,” cried + Caroline, almost in tears. “You don’t understand! It’s + so much worse than you think. I—I—Oh, why did father do it? + How could he be so inconsiderate?” + </p> + <p> + “There! there!” purred the friend of the family. “You + mustn’t, you know. You really mustn’t. Who is this man? This + uncle? Where does he come from? Why does he force himself upon you in this + way? I didn’t know your poor father had a brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither did we,” growled Stephen, savagely. Malcolm laughed + again. + </p> + <p> + “What does it all mean, dear?” begged Mrs. Dunn. “You + are in trouble, I’m sure. Don’t you think we—Malcolm and + I—might be able to help you? We should so love to do it. If you feel + that you <i>can</i> confide in us; if it isn’t a secret—” + </p> + <p> + She paused expectantly, patting the girl’s shoulder. But Caroline + had heard young Dunn’s laugh, and was offended and hurt. Her eyes + flashed as she answered. + </p> + <p> + “It’s nothing,” she said. “He has come to see us + on a matter of business, I believe. I am nervous and—foolish, I + suppose. Mr. Graves will see us soon, and then everything will be + arranged. Thank you for calling, Mrs. Dunn, and for the ride.” + </p> + <p> + It was a very plain hint, but Mrs. Dunn did not choose to understand it as + such. + </p> + <p> + “You’re sure you hadn’t better tell me the whole story, + dear?” she urged. “I am old enough, almost, to be your mother, + and perhaps my advice might.... No? Very well. You know best but—You + understand that it is something other than mere curiosity which leads me + to ask.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>“Of + course, I understand,” said the girl hastily. “Thank you very + much. Perhaps, by and by, I can tell you everything. But we must see Mr. + Graves first. I—oh, <i>don’t</i> ask me more now, Mrs. Dunn.” + </p> + <p> + The widow of so astute a politician as Mike Dunn had been in his day could + have scarcely failed to profit by his teachings. Moreover, she possessed + talent of her own. With a final pat and a kiss, she prepared for + departure. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, then,” she said, “or rather, <i>au revoir</i>. + We shall look in to-morrow. Come, Malcolm.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, Mal!” cried Stephen, rising hurriedly. “You won’t + tell anyone about—” + </p> + <p> + “Steve!” interrupted his sister. + </p> + <p> + Malcolm, about to utter a languid sarcasm, caught his mother’s look, + and remained silent. Another meaning glance, and his manner changed. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Steve, old man,” he said. “Good-by and good + luck. Caroline, awfully glad we had the spin this afternoon. We must have + more. Just what you and Steve need. At your service any time. If there is + anything I can do in any way to—er—you understand—call + on me, won’t you? Ready, Mater?” + </p> + <p> + The pair were shown out by Edwards. On the way home in the car Mrs. + Corcoran Dunn lectured her son severely. + </p> + <p> + “Have you no common sense?” she demanded. “Couldn’t + you see that the girl would have told me everything if you hadn’t + laughed, like an idiot?” + </p> + <p> + The young man laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” he exclaimed, “it was enough to make a wooden + Indian laugh. The old jay with the barnacles telling us about the + advantages of a sailor’s life. And Steve’s face! Ho! ho!” + </p> + <p> + His mother snorted disgust. “If you had brains,” she<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> + declared, “you would have understood what he meant by saying that + the sea was the place to learn what to unlearn. He was hitting at you. Was + it necessary to insult him the first time you and he exchanged a word?” + </p> + <p> + “Insult him? <i>Him</i>? Ha, ha! Why, Mater, what’s the matter + with you? Do you imagine that a hayseed like that would recognize an + insult without an introduction? And, besides, what difference does it + make? You don’t intend putting him on your calling list, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I intend cultivating him for the present.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Cultivating</i> him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—for the present. He is Rodgers Warren’s brother. + That lawyer, Graves, traveled miles to see him. What does that mean? That, + in some important way, he is connected with the estate and those two + children. If the estate is worth anything, and we have reason to believe + it is, you and I must know it. If it isn’t, it is even more + important that we should know, before we waste more time. If Caroline is + an heiress, if she inherits even a moderate fortune—” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders by way of finish to the sentence. + </p> + <p> + Malcolm whistled. + </p> + <p> + “But to think of that old Down-Easter being related to the Warren + family!” he mused. “It seems impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing is impossible,” observed his mother. Then, with a + shudder, “You never met your father’s relatives. I have.” + </p> + <hr class="medium" /> + <p> + When Captain Elisha emerged from his room, after a wash and a change of + linen, he found the library untenanted. He strolled about, his hands + behind him, inspecting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg + 56]</a></span> the pictures with critical interest. Caroline, dressed for + dinner, found him thus engaged. He turned at the sound of her step. + </p> + <p> + “Why, hello!” he cried, with hearty enthusiasm. “All + rigged up for inspection, ain’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Inspection?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that’s just sailor’s lingo. Means you’ve got + your Sunday uniform on, that’s all. My! my! how nice you look! But + ain’t black pretty old for such a young girl?” + </p> + <p> + “I am in mourning,” replied his niece, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “There! there! of course you are. Tut! tut! How could I forget it. + You see, I’ve been so many years feelin’ as if I didn’t + have a brother that I’ve sort of got used to his bein’ gone.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not.” Her eyes filled as she said it. The captain was + greatly moved. + </p> + <p> + “I’m a blunderin’ old fool, my dear,” he said. + “I beg your pardon. Do try to forgive me, won’t you? And, + perhaps—perhaps I can make up your loss to you, just a little mite. + I’d like to. I’ll try to, if—” + </p> + <p> + He laid a hand on her shoulder. She avoided him and, moving away, seated + herself in a chair at the opposite side of the desk. The avoidance was so + obvious as to be almost brutal. Captain Elisha looked very grave for an + instant. Then he changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + “I was lookin’ at your oil paintin’s,” he said. + “They’re pretty fine, ain’t they? Any of them your work, + Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>My</i> work?” The girl’s astonishment was so great + that she turned to stare at her questioner. “<i>My</i> work?” + she repeated. “Are you joking? You can’t think that I painted + them.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know but you might. That one over there,<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> with the + trees and folks dancin’—sort of picnic scene, I judge—that + looks as if you might have done it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a Corot.” + </p> + <p> + “’Tis, hey? I want to know! A—a—what did you call + it?” + </p> + <p> + “A Corot. He was a famous French artist. That was father’s + favorite picture.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! Well, I like it fust-rate myself. Did ’Bije—did + your father know this Mr. Corot well?” + </p> + <p> + “Know him? Certainly not. Why should you think such a thing as that?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he bought the picture of him, and so I s’pose likely he + knew him. There was a young feller come to South Denboro three or four + year ago and offered to paint a picture of our place for fifteen dollars. + Abbie—that’s Abbie Baker, she’s one of our folks, you + know, your third cousin, Caroline; keepin’ house for me, she is—Abbie + wanted me to have him do the job, but I wa’n’t very particular + about it, so it never come to nothin’. He done two or three places, + though, and I swan ’twas nice work! He painted Sam Cahoon’s + old ramshackle house and barn, and you’d hardly know it, ’twas + so fixed up and fine, in the picture. White paint and green grass and + everything just like real. He left out the places where the pickets was + off the fence and the blinds hangin’ on one hinge. I told Abbie, I + says, ‘Abbie, that painter’s made Sam’s place look + almost respectable, and if that ain’t a miracle, I don’t know + what is. I would think Sam would blush every time he sees that picture.’ + Ho, ho! Abbie seemed to cal’late that Sam Cahoon’s blushin’ + would be the biggest miracle of the two. Ho! ho! You’d like Abbie; + she’s got lots of common sense.” + </p> + <p> + He chuckled at the reminiscence and rubbed his knee.<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> His niece made no reply. + Captain Elisha glanced at the Corot once more and asked another question. + </p> + <p> + “I presume likely,” he said, “that that picture cost + consider’ble more than fifteen, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Father paid twenty-two thousand dollars for it,” was the + crushing answer. + </p> + <p> + The captain looked at her, opened his mouth to speak, shut it again, and, + rising, walked across the room. Adjusting his glasses, he inspected the + Corot in silence for a few minutes. Then he drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” he sighed. “<i>Well</i>.” Then, after an + interval, “Was this the only one he ever painted?” + </p> + <p> + “The only one? The only picture Corot painted? Of course not! There + are many more.” + </p> + <p> + “Did—did this Corot feller get as much for every job as he did + for this?” + </p> + <p> + “I presume so. I know father considered this one a bargain.” + </p> + <p> + “Did, hey? Humph! I ought to know enough by this time not to believe + all I hear, but I kind of had an idea that picture paintin’ was + starvation work. I’ve read about artists committin’ suicide, + and livin’ in attics, and such. Whew! About two such bargain sale + jobs as this, and I’d guarantee not to starve—and to live as + nigh the ground as a second-floor bedroom anyhow. How about this next one? + This feller in a dory—coddin’, I guess he is. Did—did + Mr. Corot do him?” + </p> + <p> + “No. That is by a well-known American artist. It is a good piece of + work, but not like the other. It is worth much less. Perhaps five + thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “So? Well, even for that I’d undertake to buy consider’ble + many dories, and hire fellers to fish from ’em, too. Humph! I guess + I’m out of soundin’s. When I thought fifteen dollars was a + high price for paintin’ a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" + id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> view of a house I was slightly mistaken. + Next time I’ll offer the paintin’ feller the house and ask him + what he considers a fair boot, besides. Sam Cahoon’s a better + speculator than I thought he was. Hello, Commodore! what’s worryin’ + you now?” + </p> + <p> + Edwards appeared to announce that dinner was served. Caroline rose and led + the way to the dining room. Captain Elisha followed, looking curiously + about him as he did so. Stephen, who had been sulkily dressing in his own + room, entered immediately after. + </p> + <p> + The captain surveyed the dining room with interest. Like the others of the + suite, it was sumptuously and tastefully furnished. He took the chair + indicated by the solemn Edwards, and the meal began. + </p> + <p> + The butler’s sense of humor was not acute, but it was with + considerable difficulty that he restrained his smiles during the next half + hour. A more appreciative observer would have noticed and enjoyed the + subtler points. Stephen’s glare of disgust at his uncle when the + latter tucked his napkin in the opening of his waistcoat; Caroline’s + embarrassment when the captain complimented the soup, declaring that it + was almost as good as one of Abbie’s chowders; the visitor’s + obvious uneasiness at being waited upon attentively, and the like. These + Edwards missed, but he could not help appreciating Captain Elisha’s + conversation. + </p> + <p> + Caroline said little during dinner. Her brother glowered at his plate and + was silent. But the captain talked and talked. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you think I didn’t have a time findin’ your new + lodgin’s,” he said. “I come over on the cars, somethin’ + I don’t usually do when there’s anything afloat to carry me. + But I had an errand or two to do in Boston, so I stopped over night at the + hotel there and got the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg + 60]</a></span> nine o’clock train. I landed here in New York all + shipshape and on time, and started in to hunt you up.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you get our address?” asked his niece. “Mr. + Graves couldn’t have given it to you, for we only decided on this + apartment a few days ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! ho!” chuckled Captain Elisha, rolling in his chair, like + a ship in a cross sea. “Ho! ho! You remind me of Abbie, Caroline. + That’s what she said. ‘I never heard of such a crazy cruise,’ + she says. ‘Startin’ off to visit folks when you haven’t + the least idea where they live!’ ‘Oh, yes, I have,’ I + says, ‘I know where they live; they live in New York.’ Well, + you ought to have seen her face. Abbie’s a good woman—none + better—but she generally don’t notice a joke until she trips + over it. I get consider’ble fun out of Abbie, take her by the large. + ‘New York!’ she says. ‘Did anybody ever hear the beat of + that? Do you cal’late New York’s like South Denboro, where + everybody knows everybody else? What are you plannin’ to do? run up + the fust man, woman or child you meet and ask ’em to tell you where + ’Bijah Warren lives? Or are you goin’ to trot from Dan to + Beersheby, trustin’ to meet your nephew and niece on the way? I + never in my born days!’ + </p> + <p> + “Well,” went on the captain, “I told her that the last + suggestion weren’t such a bad one, but there was one little + objection to it. Considerin’ that I hadn’t ever laid eyes on + Steve and that I hadn’t seen you since you was a baby, the chances + was against my recognizin’ you if we did meet. Ho, ho, ho! Finally I + hinted that I might look in the directory, and she got more reconciled to + my startin’. Honest, I do believe she’d have insisted on takin’ + me by the hand and leadin’ me to you, if I hadn’t told her + that. + </p> + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;"> + <img src="images/i60.jpg" class="smallgap" width="310" height="500" + alt="“The captain talked and talked.”" title="" /> <span + class="caption">“The captain talked and talked.”</span> + </div> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>“So + I did look in the directory and got the number on Fifth Avenue where you + used to be. I asked a policeman the nighest way to get there, and he said + take a bus. Last time I was in New York I rode in one of those Fifth + Avenue omnibuses, and I never got such a jouncin’ in my life. The + pavement then was round cobble stones, like some of the roads in + Nantucket. I remember I tried to ask a feller that set next to me somethin’ + or other, and I swan to man I couldn’t get nothin’ out of my + mouth but rattles. ‘Metropolitan Museum,’ sounded like puttin’ + in a ton of coal. I thought I was comin’ apart, or my works was out + of order, or somethin’, but when the feller tried to answer he + rattled just as bad, so I realized ’twas the reg’lar disease + and felt some better. I never shall forget a fleshy woman—somethin’ + like that Mrs. Dunn friend of yours, Caroline—that set opposite me. + It give me the crawls to look at her, her chins shook around so. Ho! ho! + she had no less’n three of ’em, and they all shook different + ways. Ho! ho! ho! If I’d been in the habit of wearin’ false + hair or teeth or anything that wa’n’t growed to or buttoned on + me I’d never have risked a trip in one of those omnibuses. + </p> + <p> + “So when the police officer prescribed one for me this v’yage, + I was some dubious. I’m older’n I was ten year ago, and I wa’n’t + sure that I’d hold together. I cal’lated walkin’ was + better for my health. So I found Fifth Avenue and started to walk. And the + farther I walked the heavier that blessed satchel of mine got. It weighed + maybe ten or twelve pounds at the corner of 42nd Street, but when I got as + far as the open square where the gilt woman is hurryin’ to keep from + bein’ run over by Gen’ral Sherman on horseback—that + statue, you know—I wouldn’t have let that blessed bag go for + less’n<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> + two ton, if I was sellin’ it by weight. So I leaned up against an + electric light pole to rest and sort of get my bearin’s. Then I + noticed what I’d ought to have seen afore, that the street wa’n’t + paved with cobbles, as it used to be, but was smooth as a stretch of state + road down home. So I figgered that a bus was a safe risk, after all. I + waited ten minutes or more for one to come, and finally I asked a woman + who was in tow of an astrakhan-trimmed dog at the end of a chain, if the + omnibuses had stopped runnin’. When I fust see the dog leadin’ + her I thought she was blind, but I guess she was deef and dumb instead. + Anyhow, all she said was ‘Ugh!’ not very enthusiastic, at + that, and went along. Ho! ho! So then I asked a man, and he pointed to a + bus right in front of me. You see, I was lookin’ for the horses, + same as they used to be, and this was an automobile. + </p> + <p> + “I blushed, I guess, just to show that there was some red underneath + the green, and climbed aboard the omnibus. I rode along for a spell, + admirin’ as much of the scenery as I could see between the women’s + hats, then I told the skipper of the thing that I wanted to make port at + 82nd Street. He said ‘Ugh,’ apparently suff’rin’ + from the same complaint the dog woman had, and we went on and on. At last + I got kind of anxious and asked him again. + </p> + <p> + “‘Eighty-second!’ says he, ugly. ‘This is + Ninety-first.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Good land!’ says I. ‘I wanted Eighty-second.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Why didn’t you say so?’ says he, lookin’ + as if I’d stole his mother’s spoons. + </p> + <p> + “‘I did,’ says I. + </p> + <p> + “‘You <i>did</i>?’ he snarls. ‘You did not! If you + did, wouldn’t I have heard you?’ + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>“Well, + any answer I’d be likely to make to that would have meant more + argument, and the bus was sailin’ right along at the time, so I + piled out and did some more walkin’, the other way. At last I + reached your old number, Stevie, and—Hey? Did you speak?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t call me ‘Stevie,’” growled his + nephew, rebelliously. + </p> + <p> + “Beg your pardon. I keep forgettin’ that you’re almost + grown up. Well, as I was sayin’, I got to the house where you used + to live, and ’twas shut tight. Nobody there. Ho! ho! I felt a good + deal like old Beriah Doane must have on his last ‘vacation.’ + You see, Beriah is one of our South Denboro notorieties; he’s famous + in his way. He works and loafs by spells until cranberry pickin’ + time in the fall; then he picks steady and earns thirty or forty dollars + all at once. Soon’s he’s paid off, he starts for Boston on a + ‘vacation,’ an alcoholic one. Well, last fall his married + sister was visitin’ him, and she, bein’ strong for good + Templarism, was determined he shouldn’t vacate in his regular way. + So she telegraphed her husband’s brother in Brockton to meet Beriah + there, go with him to Boston, and see that he behaved himself and stayed + sober. Beriah heard of it, and when his train gets as far as Tremont what + does he do but get off quiet and change cars for New Bedford. He hadn’t + been there for nine years, but he had pleasant memories of his last visit. + And when he does get to New Bedford, chucklin’ over the way he’s + befooled his sister and her folks, I’m blessed if he didn’t + find that the town had gone no-license, and every saloon was shut up! Ho! + ho! ho! Well, I felt about the way he did, I guess, when I stood on the + steps of your Fifth Avenue house and realized you’d gone away. I + wouldn’t have had Abbie see me there for somethin’. Ho! ho!” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>He + leaned back in his chair and laughed aloud. Caroline smiled faintly. + Stephen threw down his napkin and sprang to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Sis,” he cried, “I’m going to my room. By gad! I + can’t—” + </p> + <p> + Catching a warning glance from his sister, he did not finish his sentence, + but stood sulkily beside his chair. Captain Elisha looked at him, then at + the girl, and stopped laughing. He folded his napkin with care, and rose. + </p> + <p> + “That’s about all of it,” he said, shortly. “I + asked around at two or three of the neighbors’ houses, and the last + one I asked knew where you’d moved and told me how to get here.” + </p> + <p> + When the trio were again in the library, the captain spoke once more. + </p> + <p> + “I’m ’fraid I’ve talked too much,” he said, + gravely. “I didn’t realize how I was runnin’ on. Thought + I was home, I guess, with the fellers of my own age down at the + postoffice, instead of bein’ an old countryman, tirin’ out you + two young city folks with my yarns. I beg your pardon. Now you mustn’t + mind me. I see you’re expectin’ company or goin’ callin’ + somewheres, so I’ll just go to my bedroom and write Abbie a line. + She’ll be kind of anxious to know if I got here safe and sound and + found you. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be comf’table and + busy.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to go. Caroline looked at him in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “We are not expecting callers,” she said. “And certainly + we are not going out to-night. Why should you think such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + It was her uncle’s turn to show surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” he said, with a glance at Stephen, “I see that + you’re all dressed up, and so I thought, naturally—” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>He + paused. + </p> + <p> + Young Warren grunted contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “We dressed for dinner, that is all,” said Caroline. + </p> + <p> + “You—you mean you put these clothes on every night?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha was plainly very much astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he observed, slowly. “I—guess I’ve + made another mistake. Hum! Good night.” + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” said Stephen, quickly. Caroline, however, seemed + embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Warren,” she said, “I thought possibly you + might wish to talk business with my brother and me. We—we understand + that you have come on business connected with father’s will. It + seems to me that the sooner we—we—” + </p> + <p> + “Get it over the better, hey? Well, maybe you’re right. It’s + an odd business for an old salt like me to be mixed up in, that’s a + fact. If it hadn’t been so odd, if I hadn’t thought there must + be some reason, some partic’lar reason, I—well, I guess I’d + have stayed to home where I belong. You mustn’t think,” he + added, seriously, “that I don’t realize I’m as out of + place amongst you and your rich friends as a live fish in a barrel of + sawdust. That’s all right; you needn’t trouble to say no. But + you must understand that, realizin’ it, I’m not exactly + imposin’ myself on you for pleasure or—well, from choice. I’m + so built that I can’t shirk when my conscience tells me I shouldn’t, + that’s all. I’m kind of tired to-night, and I guess you are. + To-morrow mornin’, if it’s agreeable to all hands, we will + have a little business talk. I’ll have to see Lawyer Graves pretty + soon, and have a gen’ral look at your pa’s affairs. Then, if + everything is all right and I feel my duty’s done, I’ll<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> probably + go back to the Cape and leave you to him, or somebody else able to look + out for you. Until then I’m afraid,” with a smile which had a + trace of bitterness in it; “I’m afraid you’ll have to do + the best you can with me. I’ll try to be no more of a nuisance than + I can help. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + When the two young people were left alone, Caroline turned to her brother. + </p> + <p> + “Steve,” she said, “I’m afraid you were a little + rude. I’m afraid you hurt his feelings.” + </p> + <p> + The boy stared at her in wonder. “Hurt his feelings!” he + exclaimed. “<i>His</i> feelings! Well, by Jove! Caro, you’re a + wonder! Did you expect me to throw my arms around his neck? If he had had + any feelings at all, if he was the slightest part of a gentleman, do you + suppose he would come here and disgrace us as he is doing? Who invited + him? Did we? I guess not!” + </p> + <p> + “But he is father’s brother, and father asked him to come.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he didn’t. He asked him—heaven knows why—to + look out for our money affairs. That’s bad enough; but he didn’t + ask him to <i>live</i> with us. He sha’n’t! by gad, he sha’n’t! + <i>You</i> may be as sweet to him as you like, but I’ll make it my + business to give him the cold shoulder every chance I get. I’ll + freeze him out, that’s what I’ll do—freeze him out. Why, + Caro! be sensible. Think what his staying here means. Can we take him + about with us? Can our friends meet <i>him</i> as—as our uncle? He’s + got to be made to go. Hasn’t he now? Hasn’t he?” + </p> + <p> + The girl was silent for a moment. Then she covered her face with her + hands. “Oh, yes!” she sobbed. “Oh, yes, he must! he <i>must</i>! + <i>Why</i> did father do it?” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER V + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span>he + Warren breakfast hour was nine o’clock. At a quarter to nine + Caroline, entering the library, found Stephen seated by the fire reading + the morning paper. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning,” she said. Then, looking about the room, asked, + “Has—has <i>he</i> been here?” + </p> + <p> + Her brother shook his head. “You mean Uncle ’Lish?” he + asked, cheerfully. “No, he hasn’t. At least, I haven’t + seen him and I haven’t made any inquiries. I shall manage to survive + if he never appears. Let sleeping relatives lie, that’s my motto.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed at his own joke and turned the page of the paper. The butler + entered. + </p> + <p> + “Breakfast is served, Miss Caroline,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + “Has Captain Warren come from his room?” asked the young lady. + </p> + <p> + “No, Miss Caroline. That is, I haven’t seen him.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen tossed the paper on the floor and rose. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder—” he began. Then, with a broad grin, “A + sudden thought strikes me, Sis. He has undoubtedly blown out the gas.” + </p> + <p> + “Steve! How can you!” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly simple. Absolutely reasonable. Just what might have been + expected. ‘He has gone, but we shall miss him.’ Come on, Caro; + I’m hungry. Let the old hayseed sleep. You and I can have a meal in + peace. Heavens! you don’t care for another experience like last + night’s, do you?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>“Edwards,” + said Caroline, “you may knock at Captain Warren’s door and + tell him breakfast is served.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” commanded Stephen, “and tell him not to hurry on + our account. Come, Caro, come! You’re not pining for his society. + Well, wait then! <i>I</i> won’t!” + </p> + <p> + He marched angrily out of the room. His sister hesitated, her wish to + follow complicated by a feeling of duty to a guest, no matter how + unwelcome. The butler reappeared, looking puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “He’s not there, miss?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Not there? Not in his room?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Miss Caroline. I knocked, and he didn’t answer, so I + looked in and he wasn’t there. His bed’s been slept in, but he’s + gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Gone? And you haven’t seen him?” + </p> + <p> + “No, miss. I’ve been up and about since half past seven, and I + can’t understand where he could have got to.” + </p> + <p> + The door of the hall opened and shut. Edwards darted from the library. A + moment afterwards Captain Elisha strolled in. He was wearing his overcoat, + and his hat was in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good mornin’, Caroline,” he hailed, in his big voice. + “Surprised to see me, are you? Ho! ho! So was the Commodore. He + couldn’t understand how I got in without ringin’. Well, you + see, I’m used to turnin’ out pretty early, and when it got to + be most seven o’clock, I couldn’t lay to bed any longer, so I + got up, dressed, and went for a walk. I fixed the door latch so’s I + could come in quiet. You haven’t waited breakfast for me, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “No; it is ready now, however.” + </p> + <p> + “Ready now,” the captain looked at his watch.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> “Yes, + I should think so. It’s way into the forenoon. You <i>have</i> + waited for me, haven’t you? I’m awfully sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “No, we have not waited. Our breakfast hour is nine. Pardon me for + neglecting to tell you that last evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that’s all right. Now you trot right out and eat. I’ve + had mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Had your breakfast?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed. When I’m home, Abbie and I usually eat about + seven, so I get sort of sharp-set if I wait after that. I cal’lated + you city folks was late sleepers, and I wouldn’t want to make any + trouble, so I found a little eatin’ house down below here a ways and + had a cup of coffee and some bread and butter and mush. Then I went + cruisin’ round in Central Park a spell. This <i>is</i> Central Park + over across here, ain’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” The girl was too astonished to say more. + </p> + <p> + “I thought ’twas. I’d been through part of it afore, but + ’twas years ago, and it’s such a big place and the paths run + so criss-cross I got sort of mixed up, and it took me longer to get out + than it did to get in. I had the gen’ral points of the compass, and + I guess I could have made a pretty average straight run for home, but + every time I wanted to cut across lots there was a policeman lookin’ + at me, so I had to stick to the channel. That’s what made me so + late. Now do go and eat your breakfast. I won’t feel easy till I see + you start.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline departed, and the captain, after a visit to his own room, where + he left his coat and hat, returned to the library, picked up the paper + which his nephew had dropped, and began reading. + </p> + <p> + After breakfast came the “business talk.” It was a brief one. + Captain Elisha soon discovered that his<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> brother’s children + knew very little concerning their father’s affairs. They had always + plenty of money, had been indulged in practically every wish, and had + never had to think or plan for themselves. As to the size of the estate, + they knew nothing more than Mr. Graves had told them, which was that, + instead of the several millions which rumor had credited A. Rodgers Warren + with possessing, five hundred thousand dollars would probably be the + extent of their inheritance, and that, therefore, they must live + economically. As a first step in that direction, they had given up their + former home and moved to the apartment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” mused the captain, “I see. Mr. Graves didn’t + know about your movin’, then? You did it on your own hook, so to + speak?” + </p> + <p> + Stephen answered promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course we did,” he declared. “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “No reason in the world. A good sensible thing to do, I should say. + Didn’t anybody advise you where to go?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should we need advice?” Again it was Stephen who replied. + “We aren’t kids. We’re old enough to decide some things + for ourselves, I should think.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Sartin. That’s right. But I didn’t know but p’raps + some of your friends might have helped along. This Mrs. Dunn now, she kind + of hinted to me that she’d—well, done what she could to make + you comf’table.” + </p> + <p> + “She has,” avowed Caroline, warmly. “Mrs. Dunn and + Malcolm have proved their friendship in a thousand ways. We never can + repay them, Stephen and I, never!” + </p> + <p> + “No. There’s some things you can’t ever pay, I<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> know + that. Mrs. Dunn found this nice place for you, did she?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. She and I found it together.” + </p> + <p> + “So? That was lucky, wa’n’t it? Advertised in the + newspaper, was it; or was there a ‘To Let’ placard up in the + window?” + </p> + <p> + “No, certainly not. Mrs. Dunn knew that we had decided to move, and + she has a cousin who is interested in New York property. She asked him, + and he mentioned this apartment.” + </p> + <p> + “One of his own, was it?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so. Why are you so particular? Don’t you like it?” + </p> + <p> + Her tone was sharp. Stephen, who resented his uncle’s questions as + impertinent intrusions upon the family affairs, added one of his own. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it as good as those in—what do you call it—South + Denboro?” he asked, maliciously. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha laughed heartily. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty nigh as good,” he said. “I didn’t notice + any better on the way to the depot as I drove up. And I doubt if there’s + many new ones built since I left. It’s a mighty fine lot of rooms, I + think. What’s the rent? You’ll excuse my askin’, things + bein’ as they are.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-two hundred a year,” answered his niece, coldly. + </p> + <p> + The captain looked at her, whistled, broke off the whistle in the middle, + and did a little mental arithmetic. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-two hundred a year!” he repeated. “That’s + one hundred and eighty odd a month. Say, that cousin of Mrs. Dunn’s + must want to get his investment back. You mean for just these ten rooms?” + </p> + <p> + Stephen laughed scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “Our guardian has been counting, Caro,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>“Yes. + Yes, I counted this mornin’ when I got up. I was interested, + naturally.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! Naturally, of course,” sneered the boy. “Did you + think the twenty-two hundred was the rent of the entire building?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I didn’t know. I—” + </p> + <p> + “The rent,” interrupted Caroline, with dignity, “was + twenty-four hundred, but, thanks to Mrs. Dunn, who explained to her cousin + that we were friends of hers, it was reduced.” + </p> + <p> + “We being in reduced circumstances,” observed her brother in + supreme disgust. “Pity the poor orphans! By gad!” + </p> + <p> + “That was real nice of Mrs. Dunn,” declared Captain Elisha, + heartily. “She’s pretty well-off herself, I s’pose—hey, + Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + “I presume so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. About how much is she wuth, think?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. I never inquired.” + </p> + <p> + “No. Well, down our way,” with a chuckle, “we don’t + have to inquire. Ask anybody you meet what his next door neighbor’s + wuth, and he’ll tell you within a hundred, and how he got it, and + how much he owes, and how he gets along with his wife. Ho! ho! Speakin’ + of wives, is this Mr. Dunn married?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at his niece as he asked the question. There was no reason why + Caroline should blush; she knew it, and hated herself for doing it. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she answered, resentfully, “he is not.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. What’s his business?” + </p> + <p> + “He is connected with a produce exchange house, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “One of the firm?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. In New York we are not as well<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> posted, + or as curious, concerning our friends’ private affairs as your + townspeople seem to be.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess that’s so. I imagine New Yorkers are too busy gettin’ + it themselves to bother whether their neighbors have got it or not. Well,” + he went on, rising, “I guess I’ve kept you young folks from + your work or—or play, or whatever you was going to do, long enough + for this once. I think I’ll go out for a spell. I’ve got an + errand or two I want to do. What time do you have dinner?” + </p> + <p> + “We lunch at half past one,” answered Caroline. + </p> + <p> + “We dine at seven.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes! I keep forgettin’ that supper’s dinner. + Well, I presume likely I’ll be back for luncheon. If I ain’t, + don’t wait for me. I’ll be home afore supper—there I go + again!—afore dinner, anyhow. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later he was at the street corner, inquiring of a policeman + “the handiest way to get to Pine Street.” Following the + directions given, he boarded a train at the nearest subway station, + emerged at Wall Street, inquired once more, located the street he was + looking for, and, consulting a card which he took from a big stained + leather pocket-book, walked on, peering at the numbers of the buildings he + passed. + </p> + <p> + The offices of Sylvester, Kuhn, and Graves, were on the sixteenth floor of + a new and gorgeously appointed sky-scraper. When Captain Elisha entered + the firm’s reception room, he was accosted by a wide-awake and + extremely self-possessed office boy. + </p> + <p> + “Who’d you want to see?” asked the boy, briskly. + </p> + <p> + The captain removed his hat and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on a jiffy, Sonny,” he panted. “Just give me<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> a minute + to sort of get myself together, as you might say. I rode up in one of + those express elevators of yours, and I kind of feel as if my boots had + got tangled up with my necktie. When that elevator feller cast off from + the cellar, I begun to shut up like a spyglass. Whew! Say, Son, is Mr. + Graves in?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the boy, grinning. + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Still in the sick bay, is he—hey?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s to home. Got a cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. It’s too bad. Mr.—er—Sylvester, is he in?” + </p> + <p> + “Naw, he ain’t. And Mr. Kuhn’s busy. Won’t one of + the clerks do? What do you want to see the firm about?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Son, I had reasons of my own. However, I guess I won’t + disturb Mr. Kuhn, if he’s busy’s you say. Here! you tell him, + or Mr. Sylvester when he comes, that Cap’n Warren, Cap’n + Elisha Warren of South Denboro—better write it down—called and + will be back about half past twelve or thereabouts. Got it, have you? Hum! + is that Elisha? You don’t tell me! I’ve been spellin’ it + for sixty years, more or less, and never realized it had such + possibilities. Lend me your pencil. There! you give Mr. Sylvester that and + tell him I’ll see him later. So long, Son.” + </p> + <p> + He departed, smiling. The indignant office boy threw the card on the + table. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha strolled down Pine Street, looking about him with interest. + It had been years since he visited this locality, and the changes were + many. Soon, however, he began to recognize familiar landmarks. He was + approaching the water front, and there were fewer new buildings. When he + reached South Street he was thoroughly at home. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>The + docks were crowded. The river was alive with small craft of all kinds. + Steamers and schooners were plenty, but the captain missed the old + square-riggers, the clipper ships and barks, such as he had sailed in as + cabin boy, as foremast hand, and, later, commanded on many seas. + </p> + <p> + At length, however, he saw four masts towering above the roof of a freight + house. They were not schooner rigged, those masts. The yards were set + square across, and along them were furled royals and upper topsails. Here, + at last, was a craft worth looking at. Captain Elisha crossed the street, + hurried past the covered freight house, and saw a magnificent great ship + lying beside a broad open wharf. Down the wharf he walked, joyfully, as + one who greets an old friend. + </p> + <p> + The wharf was practically deserted. An ancient watchman was dozing in a + sort of sentry box, but he did not wake. There was a pile of + foreign-looking crates and boxes at the further end of the pier, evidently + the last bit of cargo waiting to be carted away. The captain inspected the + pile, recognized the goods as Chinese and Japanese, then read the name on + the big ship’s stern. She was the <i>Empress of the Ocean</i>, and + her home port was Liverpool. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha, as a free-born Yankee skipper, had an inherited and + cherished contempt for British “lime-juicers,” but he could + not help admiring this one. To begin with, her size and tonnage were + enormous. Also, she was four-masted, instead of the usual three, and her + hull and lower spars were of steel instead of wood. A steel sailing vessel + was something of a novelty to the captain, and he was seized with a desire + to go aboard and inspect. + </p> + <p> + The ladder from ship to wharf was down, of course,<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> and getting on board was an + easy matter. When he reached the deck and looked about him, the great size + of the ship was still more apparent. The bulwarks were as high as a short + man’s head. She was decked over aft, and, as the captain said + afterwards, “her cabins had nigh as many stories as a house.” + From the roof of the “first story,” level with the bulwarks, + extended a series of bridges, which could be hoisted or lowered, and by + means of which her officers could walk from stern to bow without + descending to the deck. There was a good-sized engine house forward, + beyond the galley and forecastle. Evidently the work of hoisting anchors + and canvas was done by steam. + </p> + <p> + The captain strolled about, looking her over. The number of improvements + since his seagoing days was astonishing. He was standing by the wheel, + near the companion way, wishing that he might inspect the officers’ + quarters, but not liking to do so without an invitation, when two men + emerged from the cabin. + </p> + <p> + One of the pair was evidently the Japanese steward of the ship. The other + was a tall, clean-cut young fellow, whose general appearance and lack of + sunburn showed quite plainly that he was not a seafaring man by + profession. The steward caught sight of Captain Elisha, and, walking over, + accosted him. + </p> + <p> + “Want to see skipper, sir?” he asked, in broken English. + “He ashore.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Doctor,” replied the captain, cheerfully. “I don’t + want to see him. I’ve got no business aboard. It’s been some + time since I trod the quarter-deck of a square-rigger, and I couldn’t + resist the temptation of tryin’ how the planks felt under my feet. + This is consider’ble of a clipper you’ve got here,” he + added. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied the steward grinning. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>“Where + you from?” asked Captain Elisha. + </p> + <p> + “Singapore, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Cargo all out?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Waitin’ for another one?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. We load for Manila bimeby.” + </p> + <p> + “Manila, hey? Have a good passage across?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. She good ship.” + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn’t wonder. How d’ye do, sir,” to the young + man, who was standing near. “Hope you won’t think I’m + crowdin’ in where I don’t belong. I was just tellin’ the + doctor here that it had been some time since I trod a quarter-deck, and I + thought I’d see if I’d forgot the feel.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you?” asked the young man, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Guess not. Seems kind of nat’ral. I never handled such a + whale of a craft as this, though. Didn’t have many of ’em in + my day. Come over in her, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” with a shake of the head. “No such luck. I’m + a land lubber, just scouting round, that’s all. She’s a bully + vessel, isn’t she?” + </p> + <p> + “Looks so. Tell you better after I’ve seen what she could do + in a full-sail breeze. All hands ashore, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied the steward. + </p> + <p> + “Crew paid off and spendin’ their money, I s’pose. Well, + if it ain’t against orders, I’d kind of like to look around a + little mite. May I?” + </p> + <p> + The steward merely grinned. His companion answered for him. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly you may,” he said. “I’m a friend of one + of the consignees, and I’d be glad to show you the ship, if you + like. Shall we begin with the cabins?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha, delighted with the opportunity, expressed his thanks, and + the tour of inspection began.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" + id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> The steward remained on deck, but the + captain and his new acquaintance strolled through the officers’ + quarters together. + </p> + <p> + “Jerushy!” exclaimed the former, as he viewed the main cabin. + “Say, you could pretty nigh have a dance here, couldn’t you? A + small one. This reminds me of the cabin aboard the <i>Sea Gull</i>, first + vessel I went mate of—it’s so diff’rent. Aboard her we + had to walk sittin’ down. There wa’n’t room in the cabin + for more’n one to stand up at a time. But she could sail, just the + same—and carry it, too. I’ve seen her off the Horn with + studdin’ sails set, when craft twice her length and tonnage had + everything furled above the tops’l yard. Hi hum! you mustn’t + mind an old salt runnin’ on this way. I’ve been out of the + pickle tub a good while, but I cal’late the brine ain’t all + out of my system.” + </p> + <p> + His guide’s eyes snapped. + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” he said, laughing. “I’ve never + been at sea, on a long voyage, in my life, but I can understand just how + you feel. It’s in my blood, I guess. I come of a salt water line. My + people were from Belfast, Maine, and every man of them went to sea.” + </p> + <p> + “Belfast, hey? They turned out some A No.1 sailors in Belfast. I + sailed under a Cap’n Pearson from there once—James Pearson, + his name was.” + </p> + <p> + “He was my great uncle. I was named for him. My name is James + Pearson, also.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>What</i>?” Captain Elisha was hugely delighted. “Mr. + Pearson, shake hands. I want to tell you that your Uncle Jim was a seaman + of the kind you dream about, but seldom meet. I was his second mate three + v’yages. My name’s Elisha Warren.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pearson shook hands and laughed, good-humoredly. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>“Glad + to meet you, Captain Warren,” he said. “And I’m glad you + knew Uncle Jim. As a youngster, he was my idol. He could spin yarns that + were worth listening to.” + </p> + <p> + “I bet you! He’d seen things wuth yarnin’ about. So you + ain’t a sailor, hey? Livin’ in New York?” + </p> + <p> + The young man nodded. “Yes,” he said. Then, with a dry smile, + “If you call occupying a hall bedroom and eating at a third-rate + boarding-house table living. However, it’s my own fault. I’ve + been a newspaper man since I left college. But I threw up my job six + months ago. Since then I’ve been free-lancing.” + </p> + <p> + “Have, hey?” The captain was too polite to ask further + questions, but he had not the slightest idea what “free-lancing” + might be. Pearson divined his perplexity and explained. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve had a feeling,” he said, “that I might write + magazine articles and stories—yes, possibly a novel or two. It’s + a serious disease, but the only way to find out whether it’s chronic + or not is to experiment. That’s what I’m doing now. The thing + I’m at work on may turn out to be a sea story. So I spend some time + around the wharves and aboard the few sailing ships in port, picking up + material.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha patted him on the back. + </p> + <p> + “Now don’t you get discouraged,” he said. “I used + to have an idea that novel writin’ and picture paintin’ was + poverty jobs for men with healthy appetites, but I’ve changed my + mind. I don’t know’s you’ll believe it, but I’ve + just found out, for a fact, that some painters get twenty-two thousand + dollars for one picture. For <i>one</i>, mind you. And a little mite of a + thing, too, that couldn’t have cost scarcely anything to paint. + Maybe novels sell for just as much. <i>I</i> don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>His + companion laughed heartily. “I’m afraid not, Captain,” + he said. “Few, at any rate. I should be satisfied with considerably + less, to begin with. Are you living here in town?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—we-ll, I don’t know. I ain’t exactly livin’, + and I ain’t exactly boardin’, but—Say! ain’t that + the doctor callin’ you?” + </p> + <p> + It was the steward, and there was an anxious ring in his voice. Pearson + excused himself and hurried out of the cabin. Captain Elisha lingered for + a final look about. Then he followed leisurely, becoming aware, as he + reached the open air, of loud voices in angry dialogue. + </p> + <p> + Entrances to the <i>Empress of the Ocean’s</i> cabins were on the + main deck, and also on the raised half-deck at the stern, near the wheel, + the binnacle and the officers’ corned-beef tubs, swinging in their + frames. From this upper deck two flights of steps led down to the main + deck below. At the top of one of these flights stood young Pearson, cool + and alert. Behind him half crouched the Japanese steward, evidently very + much frightened. At the foot of the steps were grouped three rough looking + men, foreigners and sailors without doubt, and partially intoxicated. The + three men were an ugly lot, and they were all yelling and jabbering + together in a foreign lingo. As the captain emerged from the passage to + the open deck, he heard Pearson reply in the same language. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Pearson answered without turning his head. + </p> + <p> + “Drunken sailors,” he explained. “Part of the crew here. + They’ve been uptown, got full, and come back to square a grudge they + seem to have against the steward. I’m telling them they’d + better give up and go ashore, if they know when they’re well off.” + </p> + <p> + The three fellows by the ladder’s foot were consulting<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> + together. On the wharf were half a dozen loungers, collected by the + prospect of a row. + </p> + <p> + “If I can hold them off for a few minutes,” went on Pearson, + “we’ll be all right. The wharf watchman has gone for the + police. Here! drop it! What are you up to?” + </p> + <p> + One of the sailors had drawn a knife. The other two reached for their + belts behind, evidently intending to follow suit. From the loafers on the + wharf came shouts of encouragement. + </p> + <p> + “Do the dude up, Pedro! Give him what’s comin’ to him.” + </p> + <p> + The trio formed for a rush. The steward, with a shrill scream, fled to the + cabin. Pearson did not move; he even smiled. The next moment he was pushed + to one side, and Captain Elisha stood at the top of the steps. + </p> + <p> + “Here!” he said, sternly. “What’s all this?” + </p> + <p> + The three sailors, astonished at this unexpected addition to their enemies + forces, hesitated. Pearson laid his hand on the captain’s arm. + </p> + <p> + “Be careful,” he said. “They’re dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + “Dangerous? Them? I’ve seen their kind afore. Here, you!” + turning to the three below. “What do you mean by this? Put down that + knife, you lubber! Do you want to be put in irons? Over the side with you, + you swabs! Git!” + </p> + <p> + He began descending the ladder. Whether the sailors were merely too + surprised to resist, or because they recognized the authority of the deep + sea in Captain Elisha’s voice and face is a question. At any rate, + as he descended they backed away. + </p> + <p> + “Mutiny on board a ship of mine?” roared the captain. “What + do you mean by it? Why, I’ll have you tied up and put on bread and + water. Over the side with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" + id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> you! Mutiny on board of <i>me</i>! Lively! + Tumble up there!” + </p> + <p> + With every order came a stride forward and a correspondingly backward + movement on the part of the three. The performance would have been + ridiculous if Pearson had not feared that it might become tragic. He was + descending the steps to his new acquaintance’s aid, when there rose + a chorus of shouts from the wharf. + </p> + <p> + “The cops! the cops! Look out!” + </p> + <p> + That was the finishing touch. The next moment the three “mutineers” + were over the side and running as fast as their alcoholic condition would + permit down the wharf. + </p> + <p> + “Well, by George!” exclaimed Pearson. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha seemed to be coming out of a dream. He stood still, drew + his hand across his forehead, and then began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” he stammered. “Well, I snum! I—I—Mr. + Pearson, I wonder what on earth you must think of me. I declare the sight + of that gang set me back about twenty years. They—they must have + thought I was the new skipper! Did you hear me tell ’em they couldn’t + mutiny aboard of me? Ho! ho! Well, I am an old idiot!” + </p> + <p> + Pearson stuck his fist into the palm of his other hand. “I’ve + got it!” he cried. “I knew your name was familiar. Why, you’re + the mate that handled the mutinous crew aboard Uncle Jim’s bark, the + <i>Pacer</i>, off Mauritius, in the typhoon, when he was hurt and in the + cabin. I’ve heard him tell it a dozen times. Well, this <i>is</i> a + lucky day for me!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha was evidently pleased. “So he told you that, did he?” + he began. “That <i>was</i> a time and a half, I—” + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted. Over the rail appeared a blue<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> helmet, and an instant + later a big and very pompous police officer leaped to the deck. He was + followed by the wharf watchman, who looked frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s the other one of them?” demanded the policeman. + “Oh, it’s you, is it? Well, you’re too old to be gettin’ + drunk and fightin’. Come along now, peaceable, and let’s have + no words about it.” + </p> + <p> + He advanced and laid a hand on the captain’s arm. + </p> + <p> + “You’re under arrest,” he announced. “Will you + come along quiet?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m under arrest?” repeated Captain Elisha. “Under—My + soul and body! Why, I ain’t done anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. Nobody’s done nothin’. Come on, or shall I—Hello, + Mr. Pearson, sir! How d’you do?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson had stepped forward. + </p> + <p> + “Slattery,” he said, “you’ve made a mistake. Let + me tell you about it.” He drew the officer aside and whispered in + his ear. After a rather lengthy conversation, the guardian of the peace + turned to the watchman. + </p> + <p> + “What d’you mean by tellin’ all them lies?” he + demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Lies?” repeated the astonished watchman. “I never told + no lies.” + </p> + <p> + “You did. You said this gentleman,” indicating the nervous and + apprehensive Captain Elisha, “was fightin’ and murderin’. + I ask your pardon, sir. ’Twas this bloke’s foolishness. G’wan + ashore! You make me sick. Good day, Mr. Pearson.” + </p> + <p> + He departed, driving his new victim before him and tongue-lashing him all + the way. The captain drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Mr. Pearson,” he declared, “a minute or so ago you + said this was a lucky day for you. I cal’late it’s a luckier + one for me. If it hadn’t been for you I’d been<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> took up. + Yes, sir, took up and carted off to the lockup. Whew! that would have + looked well in the papers, wouldn’t it? And my niece and nephew.... + Jerushy! I’m mightily obliged to you. How did you handle that + policeman so easily?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson laughed. “Oh,” he replied, “a newspaper training + and acquaintance has its advantages. Slattery knows me, and I know him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I thank you, I do so.” + </p> + <p> + “You needn’t. I wouldn’t have missed meeting you and + seeing you handle those fellows for a good deal. And besides, you’re + not going to escape so easy. You must lunch with me.” + </p> + <p> + The captain started, hastily pulled out his watch, and looked at it. + </p> + <p> + “Quarter to one!” he cried. “And I said I’d be + back at that lawyer’s office at half-past twelve. No, no, Mr. + Pearson, I can’t go to lunch with you, but I do wish you’d + come and see me some time. My address for—for a spell, anyhow—is + Central Park West,” giving the number, “and the name is + Warren, same as mine. Will you come some evenin’? I’d be + tickled to death to see you.” + </p> + <p> + The young man was evidently delighted. + </p> + <p> + “Will I?” he exclaimed. “Indeed I will. I warn you, + Captain Warren, that I shall probably keep you busy spinning sea yarns.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin’ I like better, though I’m afraid my yarns’ll + be pretty dull alongside of your Uncle Jim’s.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll risk it. Good-by and good luck. I shall see you very + soon.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s right; do. So long.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER VI + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span>he + boy, Captain Elisha’s acquaintance of the morning, was out, regaling + himself with crullers and milk at a pushcart on Broad Street, when the + captain returned to the officers of Sylvester, Kuhn and Graves. The clerk + who had taken his place was very respectful. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Warren,” he said, “Mr. Sylvester was sorry to + miss you. He waited until half past twelve and left word for us to + telephone if you came. Our Mr. Graves is still ill, and the matter of your + brother’s estate must be discussed without further delay. Please sit + down and I will telephone.” + </p> + <p> + The captain seated himself on the leather-covered bench, and the clerk + entered the inner office. He returned, a few moments later, to say: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Sylvester is at the Central Club. He wished me to ask if you + could conveniently join him there.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha pondered. “Why, yes,” he replied, slowly, + “I s’pose I could. I don’t know why I couldn’t. + Where is this—er—club of his?” + </p> + <p> + “On Fifth Avenue, near Fifty-second Street. I’ll send one of + our boys with you if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! I can pilot myself, I guess. I ain’t so old I can’t + ask my way. Though—” with a reminiscent chuckle—“if + the folks I ask are all sufferin’ from that ‘Ugh’ + disease, I sha’n’t make much headway.” + </p> + <p> + “What disease?” asked the puzzled clerk. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>“Oh, + nothin’. I was just thinkin’ out loud, that’s all. Mr. + Sylvester wants to see me right off, does he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he said he would wait if I ’phoned him you were coming.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Well, you can tell him I’ve left the dock, bound in + his direction. Say, that young chap that was here when I called the fust + time—studyin’ to be a lawyer, is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Tim? No, indeed. He’s only the office boy. Why did you + ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I was just wonderin’. I had a notion he might be in + trainin’ for a judgeship, he was so high and mighty. Ho! ho! He’s + got talent, that boy has. Nobody but a born genius could have made as many + mistakes in one name as he did when he undertook to spell Elisha. Well, + sir, I’m much obliged to you. Good day.” + </p> + <p> + The Central Club is a ponderous institution occupying a becomingly + gorgeous building on the Avenue. The captain found his way to its door + without much trouble. A brass-buttoned attendant answered his ring and + superciliously inquired his business. Captain Elisha, not being greatly in + awe of either buttons or brief authority, calmly hailed the attendant as + “Gen’ral” and informed him that he was there to see Mr. + Sylvester, if the latter was “on deck anywheres.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him it’s Cap’n Warren, Major,” he added + cheerfully; “he’s expectin’ me.” + </p> + <p> + The attendant brusquely ushered the visitor into a leather-upholstered + reception room and left him. The captain amused himself by looking at the + prints and framed letters and autographs on the walls. Then a round, red, + pleasant-faced man entered. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me,” he said, “is this Captain Warren?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>“Yes, + sir,” was the reply. “That’s my name. This is Mr. + Sylvester, ain’t it? Glad to know you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks. Sorry to have made you travel way up here, Captain. I + waited until twelve-thirty, but as you didn’t come then, I gave you + up. Hope I haven’t inconvenienced you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. Not a mite. Might just as well be here as anywhere. Don’t + think another thing about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you lunched, Captain Warren?” + </p> + <p> + “No, come to think of it, I ain’t. I’ve been kind of + busy this forenoon, and a little thing like dinner—luncheon, I mean—slipped + my mind. Though ’tain’t often I have those slips, I’m + free to say. Ho! ho! Abbie—she’s my second cousin, my + housekeeper—says I’m an unsartin critter, but there’s + two things about me she can always count on, one’s that my clothes + have always got a button loose somewheres, and t’other’s my + appetite.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed, and Sylvester laughed with him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” observed the lawyer, “I’m not sure that I + couldn’t qualify on both of those counts. At any rate I’m sure + of my appetite. I had a lunch engagement with an acquaintance of mine, but + he hasn’t appeared, so you must take his place. We’ll lunch + together.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, I’d like to fust-rate, and it’s real kind of + you, Mr. Sylvester; but I don’t know’s I’d better. Your + friend may heave in sight, after all, and I’d be in the way.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it. And I said ‘acquaintance,’ not ‘friend.’ + Of course you will! You must. We can talk business while we’re + eating, if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. And I’m ever so much obliged to you. Is there an + eatin’ house near here?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we’ll eat right here at the club. Come.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>He + led the way, and Captain Elisha followed. The Central Club has a large, + exclusive, and wealthy membership, and its quarters correspond. The + captain gazed about him at the marble floors and pillars, the paintings + and busts, with interest. After checking his hat and coat, as they entered + the elevator he asked a question. + </p> + <p> + “Which floor is your club on, Mr. Sylvester?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Floor? Why, the dining room is on the fourth, if that’s what + you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I meant how many rooms do you rent?” + </p> + <p> + “We occupy the entire building. It is our own, and a comparatively + new one. We built it three years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean this whole shebang is just one <i>club</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! I see. Well, I—” + </p> + <p> + “What were you going to say?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin’. I was wonderin’ what fool thing I’d ask + next. I’m more used to lodge rooms than I am to clubs, I guess. I’d + like to take home a picture of this place to Theophilus Kenney. Theoph’s + been raisin’ hob because the Odd Fellows built on to their buildin’. + He said one room was enough for any society. ’Twould be, if we was + all his kind of society. Theoph’s so small he could keep house in a + closet. He’s always hollerin’ in meetin’ about his soul. + I asked the minister if it didn’t seem ridic’lous for Kenney + to make such a big noise over such a little thing. This where we get off?” + </p> + <p> + The dining room was a large and ornate apartment. Captain Elisha, when he + first entered it, seemed about to ask another question, but choked it off + and remained silent. Sylvester chose a table in a retired corner, and they + sat down. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>“Now, + Captain Warren,” said the host, “what will you eat?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “You do the orderin’,” he replied dryly; “I’ll + just set and be thankful, like the hen that found the china doorknob. + Anything that suits you will do me, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying his companion, gave his + orders, and the waiter brought first a bit of caviar on toast. If + Sylvester expected this delicacy to produce astonished comments, he was + disappointed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” exclaimed Captain Elisha. “I declare, you + take me back a long ways, Mr. Sylvester. Caviar! Well, well! Why, I haven’t + ate this since I used to go to Cronstadt. At the American consul’s + house there we had it often enough. Has a kind of homey taste even yet. + That consul was a good feller. He and I were great friends. + </p> + <p> + “I met him a long spell after that, when I was down in Mexico,” + he went on. “He’d made money and was down on a vacation. My + ship was at Acapulco, and he and I used to go gunnin’ together, + after wild geese and such. Ho! ho! I remember there was a big, pompous + critter of an Englishman there. Mind you, I’m not talkin’ + against the English. Some of the best men I ever met were English, and I’ve + stood back to back with a British mate on a Genoa wharf when half of Italy + was hoppin’ around makin’ proclamations that they was goin’ + to swallow us alive. And, somehow or ’nother, they didn’t. + Took with prophetic indigestion, maybe. + </p> + <p> + “However, this Englishman at Acapulco was diff’rent. He was so + swelled with importance that his back hollered in like Cape Cod Bay on the + map. His front bent out to correspond, though, so I cal’late he + averaged up all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> + right. Well, he heard about what a good—that I was pretty lucky when + it come to shootin’ wild geese, and I’m blessed if he didn’t + send me orders to get him one for a dinner he was goin’ to give. + Didn’t ask—<i>ordered</i> me to do it, you understand. And him + nothin’ but a consignee, with no more control over me than the + average female Sunday-school teacher has over a class of boys. Not so + much, because she’s supposed to have official authority, and he wa’n’t. + <i>And</i> he didn’t invite me to the dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the next time my friend, the ex-consul, and I went out gunnin’, + I told him of the Englishman’s ‘orders.’ He was mad. + ‘What are you goin’ to do about it?’ he asks. ‘Don’t + know yet,’ says I, ‘we’ll see.’ By and by we come + in sight of one of them long-legged cranes, big birds you know, standin’ + fishin’ at the edge of some reeds. I up with my gun and shot it. The + consul chap looked at me as if I was crazy. ‘What in the world did + you kill that fish-basket on stilts for?’ he says. ‘Son,’ + says I, ‘your eyesight is bad. That’s a British-American + goose. Chop off about three feet of neck and a couple of fathom of hind + legs and pick and clean what’s left, and I shouldn’t wonder if + ’twould make a good dinner for a mutual friend of ours—good <i>enough</i>, + anyhow.’ Well, sir! that ex-consul set plump down in the mud and + laughed and laughed. Ho, ho! Oh, dear me!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you send it to the Englishman?” asked Sylvester. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I sent it. And, after a good while and in a roundabout + way, I heard that the whole dinner party vowed ’twas the best wild + goose they ever ate. So I ain’t sure just who the joke was on. + However, I’m satisfied with my end. Well, there! I guess you must + think I’m pretty talky on short acquaintance, Mr. Sylvester.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> You’ll + have to excuse me; that caviar set me to thinkin’ about old times.” + </p> + <p> + His host was shaking all over. “Go ahead, Captain,” he cried. + “Got any more as good as that?” + </p> + <p> + But Captain Elisha merely smiled and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t get me started on Mexico,” he observed. “I’m + liable to yarn all the rest of the afternoon. Let’s see, we was goin’ + to talk over my brother’s business a little mite, wa’n’t + we?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, we should. Now, Captain Warren, just how much do you know + about your late brother’s affairs?” + </p> + <p> + “Except what Mr. Graves told me, nothin’ of importance. And, + afore we go any further, let me ask a question. Do <i>you</i> know why + ’Bije made me his executor and guardian and all the rest of it?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not. Graves drew his will, and so, of course, we knew of your + existence and your appointment. Your brother forbade our mentioning it, + but we did not know, until after his death, that his own children were + unaware they had an uncle. It seems strange, doesn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “It does to me; <i>so</i> strange that I can’t see two lengths + ahead. I cal’late Mr. Graves told you how I felt about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That is, he said you were very much surprised.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s puttin’ it mild enough. And did he tell you that + ’Bije and I hadn’t seen each other, or even written, in + eighteen years?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Well, when you consider <i>that</i>, can you wonder I was + set all aback? And the more I think of it, the foggier it gets. Why, Mr. + Sylvester, it’s one of them situations that are impossible, that you + can prove<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> + fifty ways <i>can’t</i> happen. And yet, it has—it sartinly + has. Now tell me: Are you, or your firm, well acquainted with my brother’s + affairs?” + </p> + <p> + “Not well, no. The late Mr. Warren was a close-mouthed man, rather + secretive, in fact.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! that bein’ one of the p’ints where he was + different from his nighest relation, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not so sure. Have you questioned the children?” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline and Steve? Yes, I’ve questioned ’em more than + they think I have, maybe. And they know—well, leavin’ out + about the price of oil paintin’s and the way to dress and that it’s + more or less of a disgrace to economize on twenty thousand a year, their + worldly knowledge ain’t too extensive.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you like them?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess so. Just now ain’t the fairest time to judge ’em. + You see they’re sufferin’ from the joyful shock of their + country relation droppin’ in, and—” + </p> + <p> + He paused and rubbed his chin. His lips were smiling, but his eyes were + not. Sylvester noted their expression, and guessed many things. + </p> + <p> + “They haven’t been disagreeable, I hope?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No-o. No, I wouldn’t want to say that. They’re young + and—and, well, I ain’t the kind they’ve been used to. + Caroline’s a nice girl. She is, sure. All she needs is to grow a + little older and have the right kind of advice and—and friends.” + </p> + <p> + “How about the boy?” Mr. Sylvester had met young Warren, and + his eyes twinkled as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Steve? Well,” there was an answering twinkle in Captain + Elisha’s eye; “well, Steve needs to grow, too; though I wouldn’t + presume to tell him so. When a feller’s undertakin’ to give + advice to one of the seven wise men, he has to be diplomatic, as you might + say.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>The + lawyer put back his head and laughed uproariously. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha!” he crowed. “That’s good! Then, from your + questioning of the children, you’ve learned—?” + </p> + <p> + “Not such an awful lot. I think I’ve learned that—hum! + that a good guardian might be a handy thing to have in the house. A reg’lar + legal guardian, I mean. Otherwise—” + </p> + <p> + “Otherwise?” + </p> + <p> + “Otherwise there might be too many disinterested volunteer + substitutes for the job. Maybe I’m wrong, but I doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you made up your mind to be that guardian?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. I haven’t made up my mind to anything yet. Now, Mr. + Sylvester, while we’re waitin’ for what comes next—you’ve + ordered enough grub to victual a ship—s’pose you just run over + what your firm knows about ’Bije. That is, if I ain’t askin’ + too much.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. That’s what I’m here for. You have a right + to know. But I warn you my information isn’t worth much.” + </p> + <p> + He went on, briefly and with the conciseness of the legal mind, to tell of + A. Rodgers Warren, his business and his estate. He had been a broker with + a seat on the Stock Exchange. + </p> + <p> + “That seat is worth consider’ble, ain’t it?” + interrupted the captain. + </p> + <p> + “Between eighty and one hundred thousand dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. Well, it reminds me of a picture I saw once in one of the + comic papers. An old feller from the backwoods somewheres—good deal + like me, he was, and just about as green—was pictured standin’ + along with his city nephew in the gallery of the Exchange. And the nephew + says, ‘Uncle,’ says he, ‘do you realize that a seat<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> down + there’s wuth seventy-five thousand dollars?’ ‘Gosh!’ + says the old man, ‘no wonder most of ’em are standin’ + up.’ Ho! ho! Is that seat of ’Bije’s part of the five + hundred thousand you figger he’s left?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in a way it is. To be truthful, Captain Warren, we’re + not sure as to the amount of your brother’s tangible assets. Graves + made a hurried examination of the stocks, bonds, and memoranda, and + estimated the total, that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Well, heave ahead.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer went on. The dead broker’s office had been on Broad + Street. A small office, with but two clerks. One of the clerks was + retained, and the office, having been leased for a year by its former + tenant, was still open pending the settlement of the estate. A. Rodgers + Warren personally was a man who looked older than he really was, a good + liver, and popular among his companions. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of fellers were his companions?” asked Captain + Elisha. + </p> + <p> + “You mean his friends in society, or his companions downtown in Wall + Street?” + </p> + <p> + “The Wall Street ones. I guess I can find out something about the + society ones. Anyhow, I can try. These Wall Streeters that ’Bije + chummed with—a quiet lot, was they?” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester hesitated. “Why—why—not particularly so,” + he admitted. “Nothing crooked about them, of course. You see, a + stock-broker’s life is a nerve-racking, rather exciting one, and—” + </p> + <p> + “And ’Bije and his chums were excited, too, hey? All right, + you needn’t go any further. He was a good husband while his wife + lived, wa’n’t he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Frankly, Captain Warren, so far as I know,<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> your brother’s + personal habits were good. There was nothing against his character.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m mighty glad to hear it. Mighty glad. Is there anything + else you can tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Our next move, provided you decide to accept the trust, the + executorship, and the rest, is to get together—you and Graves, if he + is well enough; you and I if he is not—and begin a careful + examination of the stocks, bonds, assets, and debts of the estate. This + must be done first of all.” + </p> + <p> + “Graves hinted there wa’n’t any debts, to amount to + anything.” + </p> + <p> + “So far as we can see, there are none, except a few trifling bills.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. Hum!” Captain Elisha put down his coffee spoon and + seemed to be thinking. He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “You appear to be puzzled about something,” observed the + lawyer, who was watching him intently. + </p> + <p> + “I am. I was puzzled afore I left home, and I’m just as + puzzled now.” + </p> + <p> + “What puzzles you? if I may ask.” + </p> + <p> + “Everything. And, if you’ll excuse my sayin’ so, Mr. + Sylvester, I guess it puzzles you, too.” + </p> + <p> + He returned his host’s look. The latter pushed back his chair, + preparatory to rising. + </p> + <p> + “It is all so perfectly simple, on the face of it, Captain Warren,” + he said. “Your brother realized that he must die, that his children + and their money must be taken care of; you were his nearest relative; his + trust in your honesty and judgment caused him to overlook the estrangement + between you. That’s the case, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That’s the case, on the face of it, as you say. But you’ve + forgot to mention one item.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>“What’s + that?” + </p> + <p> + “’Bije himself. You knew him pretty well, I can see that. So + did I. And I guess that’s why we’re both puzzled.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha folded his napkin with care and stood up. Sylvester rose, + also. + </p> + <p> + “Come downstairs,” he said. “We can enjoy our cigars + more comfortably there, and go on with our talk. That is, unless you’re + in a great hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I ain’t in any special hurry. So I get up to Caroline’s + in season for supper—er, dinner, I mean—I don’t care. + But I don’t want to keep you. You’re a busy man.” + </p> + <p> + “This is business. This way, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + The big lounging room of the club, on the first floor, Fifth Avenue side, + was almost empty when they entered it. The lawyer drew two big chairs near + the open fire, rang the bell, and ordered cigars. After the cigars were + lighted and the fragrant clouds of tobacco smoke were rising, he reopened + the conversation. And now, in an easy, diplomatic way, he took his turn at + questioning. + </p> + <p> + It was pretty thorough pumping, managed with the skill of an experienced + cross-examiner. Captain Elisha, without realizing that he was doing so, + told of his boyhood, his life at sea, his home at South Denboro, his + position in the village, his work as selectman, as member of the school + committee, and as director in the bank. The tone of the questioner + expressed nothing—he was too well trained for that—but every + item of information was tabulated and appraised. + </p> + <p> + The tall mahogany-cased clock struck three, then four. The lawyer finished + his cigar and lit another. He offered a fresh one to his guest, but the + offer was declined. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” observed the captain. “I’ve been<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> yarnin’ + away so fast that my breath’s been too busy to keep this one goin’. + There’s consider’ble left yet. This is a better smoke than I’m + used to gettin’ at the store down home. I tell Ryder—he’s + our storekeeper and postmaster—that he must buy his cigars on the + reel and cut ’em off with the scissors. When the gang of us all got + a-goin’ mail times, it smells like a rope-walk burnin’ down. + Ho! ho! It does, for a fact. Yet I kind of enjoy one of his five-centers, + after all. You can get used to most anything. Maybe it’s the home + flavor or the society. P’raps they’d taste better still if + they was made of seaweed. I’ll trouble you for a match, Mr. + Sylvester. Two of ’em, if you don’t mind.” + </p> + <p> + He whittled one match to a point with his pocket knife, impaled the cigar + stump upon it, and relit with the other. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the room had been filling up. Around each of the big windows + overlooking the Avenue were gathered groups of men, young and old, + smoking, chatting, and gazing idly out. Captain Elisha regarded them + curiously. + </p> + <p> + “This ain’t a holiday, is it?” he asked, after a while. + </p> + <p> + “No. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “I was just wonderin’ if all those fellers hadn’t any + work to do, that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? That crowd?” The lawyer laughed. “Oh, they’re + doing their regular stunt. You’ll find most of them here every + afternoon about this time.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say. Pay ’em wages for it, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not that I know of. Some of them are brokers, who come up after the + Exchange closes. Others are business men, active or retired. Some don’t + have any business—except what they’re doing now.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to know! Humph! They remind me of the gang in the + billiard-room back home. The billiard-roomers—the<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> chronic + ones—don’t have any business, either, except to keep the dust + from collectin’ on the chairs. That and talkin’ about hard + times. These chaps don’t seem to be sufferin’ from hard times, + much.” + </p> + <p> + “No. Most of the younger set have rich fathers or have inherited + money.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. They let the old man do the worryin’. That’s + philosophy, anyhow. What are they so interested in outside? Parade goin’ + by?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I imagine an unusually pretty girl passed just then.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so? Well, well! Say, Mr. Sylvester, the longer I stay in + New York the more I see that the main difference between it and South + Denboro is size. The billiard-room gang acts just the same way when the + downstairs school teacher goes past. Hello!” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “That young chap by the mizzen window looks sort of familiar to me. + The one that stood up to shake a day-day to whoever was passin’. + Hum! He’s made a hit, ain’t he? I expect some unprotected + female’s heart broke at that signal. I cal’late I know him.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Which one? Oh, that’s young Corcoran Dunn. He is a + lady-killer, in his own estimation. How d’ye do, Dunn.” + </p> + <p> + The young man turning grinning from the window, caught a glimpse of the + lawyer as the latter rose to identify him. He strolled over to the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Sylvester,” he hailed, carelessly. “That was a + peach. You should have seen her. What? Why, it’s the Admiral!” + </p> + <p> + “How d’ye do, Mr. Dunn,” said Captain Elisha. + </p> + <p> + “Have you two met before?” asked Sylvester in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>“Yes. + I had the pleasure of assisting in the welcoming salute when our seafarin’ + friend come aboard. How was that, Captain? Some nautical class to that + remark?” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. You done fust rate, considerin’ how recent you shipped.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks. Overwhelmed, I’m sure.” Then, with a look of + languid amusement at the pair, “What is this—a meeting of the + Board of Naval Affairs? Have you bought a yacht, Sylvester?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” The lawyer’s tone was sharp. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, take my advice and don’t. Yachts are all right, + to have a good time on, but they cost like the devil to keep up. An auto + is bad enough. By the way, Sylvester, did you hear about my running over + the Irishman this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Running over?” repeated the captain, aghast. “You didn’t + run over nobody, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I came devilish near it. Ha! ha! You see, the old tarrier was + crossing Saint Nicholas Avenue, with a big market basket full of + provisions—the family dinner, I suppose. By Jove, the household + appetites must be good ones. It was slippery as the mischief, I was + running the car, and I tried to go between the fellow and the curb. It + would have been a decent bit of steering if I’d made it. But—ha! + ha!—by Jove, you know, I didn’t. I skidded. The man himself + managed to hop out of the way, but his foot slipped, and down he went. + Most ridiculous thing you ever saw. And the street! ’Pon my word it + was paved with eatables.” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester, plainly annoyed, did not reply. But Captain Elisha’s + concern was evident. + </p> + <p> + “The poor critter!” he exclaimed. “What did you do?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>“The + last I saw of him he was sitting in the mud, looking at the upset. I didn’t + linger. Peters took the wheel, and we beat it. Lucky the cop didn’t + spot the license number. Might have cost me fifty. They’ve had me up + for speeding twice before. What are you and the Admiral discussing, + Sylvester?” + </p> + <p> + “We were discussing a business matter,” answered the lawyer, + with significant emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Business? Why, sure! I forgot that you were Graves’s partner. + Settling the family affairs, hey? Well, I won’t butt in. Ta, ta! See + you later, Captain. You must go for a spin in that car of mine. I’ll + call for you some day. I’ll show you something they don’t do + on Cape Cod. Regards to Caro and Steve.” + </p> + <p> + He moved off, feeling that his invitation would have met with his mother’s + approval. She had announced that the country uncle was to be “cultivated.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha’s cigar had gone out. He did not attempt to relight + it. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” he whistled. “Well, when I go for a ‘spin,’ + as he calls it, with <i>him</i>, I cal’late my head’ll be + spinnin’ so I won’t be responsible for my actions. Whew!” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester looked curiously at him. + </p> + <p> + “So you met him before?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He was at the rooms when I fust landed. Or his mother was + there then. He came a little later with Caroline and Stephen.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Know him and his ma pretty well, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Slightly. I’ve met them, at mutual acquaintances’ homes + and about town.” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty well fixed, I s’pose, ain’t they?” + </p> + <p> + “I presume so. I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>“Um. + He’s a sociable young feller, ain’t he? Don’t stand on + any ceremony, hey? Caro and Steve think a lot of him and his mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Graves has told me the Dunns were very intimate with the + Warrens. In fact, just before your brother’s death, I remember + hearing a rumor that the two families might be even closer connected.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean—er—Caroline and—er—him?” + </p> + <p> + “There was such a rumor. Probably nothing in it. There is no + engagement, I am very sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I see. Well, Mr. Sylvester, I must be trottin’ on. + I’ll think the whole business over for another day or so and then + give you my decision, one way or the other.” + </p> + <p> + “You can’t give it now?” + </p> + <p> + “No-o. I guess I’d better not. However, I think—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think I may take the job. Take it on trial, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! I’m glad of it.” + </p> + <p> + “You <i>are</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly am. And I’m very glad indeed to have made your + acquaintance, Captain Warren. Good afternoon. I shall hope to see you + again soon.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha left the Central Club in a surprised frame of mind. What + surprised him was that a man of such thorough city training and habits as + the senior partner of the law firm should express pleasure at the idea of + his accepting the charge of A. Rodgers Warren’s heirs and estate. + Mr. Graves had shown no such feeling. + </p> + <p> + If he had heard Sylvester’s report to Kuhn, at the office next day, + he might have been even more surprised and pleased. + </p> + <p> + “He’s a brick, Kuhn,” declared the senior partner.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> + “A countryman, of course, but a keen, able, honest man, and, I + think, a mighty good judge of character. If I was as sure of his ability + to judge investments and financial affairs, I should be certain the Warren + children couldn’t be in better hands. And no doubt we can help him + when it comes to that. He’ll probably handle the girl and boy in his + own way, and his outside greenness may jar them a little. But it’ll + do them good to be jarred at their age. He’s all right, and I hope + he accepts the whole trust.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” exclaimed Mr. Kuhn; “you surprise me. Graves + seemed to be—” + </p> + <p> + “Graves suffers from the absolute lack of a sense of humor. His path + through life is about three feet wide and bordered with rock-ribbed + conventionality. If a man has a joke in his system, Graves doesn’t + understand it and is suspicious. I tell, you, Kuhn, there’s more + honest common sense and ability in the right hand of this Down-East salt + than there ever was in Rodgers Warren’s whole body.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER VII + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">D</span>uring + the next day Caroline Warren and her brother saw little of their uncle. + Not that they complained of this or sought his society. The policy of + avoidance and what Stephen called “freezing out” had begun, + and the young people kept to themselves as much as possible. At breakfast + Caroline was coldly polite, and her brother cold, although his politeness + was not overdone. However, Captain Elisha did not seem to notice. He was + preoccupied, said but little, and spent the forenoon in writing a second + letter to Miss Abigail. In it he told of his experience on board the <i>Empress + of the Ocean</i> and of the luncheon at the Central Club. But he said + nothing concerning his nephew and niece further than the statement that he + was still getting acquainted, and that Caroline was a real nice looking + girl. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you wonder what I’ve decided about taking the + guardianship,” he added, just at the close. “Well, Abbie, I’m + about in the position of Luther Sylvester when he fell off the dock at + Orham. The tide was out, and he went into the soft mud, all under. When + the folks who saw him tumble got to the edge and looked over, they saw a + round, black thing sticking out of the mire, and, judging ’twas Lute’s + head, they asked him how he felt. ‘I don’t know yet,’ + sputters Lute, ‘whether I’m drowned or smothered, but I’m + somewheres betwixt and between.’ That’s me, Abbie, on that + guardian business. I’m still betwixt and between. But<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> + before this day’s over I’ll be drowned or smothered, and I’ll + let you know which next time I write.” + </p> + <p> + After lunch he took a stroll in the Park and passed up and down the paths, + thinking, thinking. Returning, he found that Caroline and Stephen had gone + for an auto ride with the Dunns and would not be home for dinner. So he + ate that meal in solitary state, waited upon by Edwards. + </p> + <p> + That evening, as he sat smoking in the library, the butler appeared to + announce a caller. + </p> + <p> + “Someone to see you, sir,” said Edwards. “Here’s + his card, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Someone to see <i>me</i>? Guess you’ve made a mistake, + haven’t you, Commodore? I don’t know anybody who’d be + likely to come visitin’ me here in New York. Why, yes! Well, I + declare! Tell him to walk right in. Mr. Pearson, I’m glad to see + you. This is real neighborly.” + </p> + <p> + The caller was young Pearson, the captain’s acquaintance of the + previous forenoon. They shook hands heartily. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you didn’t think I should accept that invitation of + yours, Captain Warren,” observed Pearson. “I told you I meant + it when I said yes. And calling within thirty-six hours is pretty good + proof, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Suits me fust-rate. I’m mighty glad you came. Set right down. + Lonesome at the boardin’ house, was it?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson made a grimace. “Lonesome!” he repeated. “Ugh! + Let’s talk of something else. Were you in time for your appointment + yesterday noon?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; I was and I wasn’t. Say, won’t you have a + cigar? That’s right. And I s’pose, bein’ as this is New + York, I’d ought to ask you to take somethin’ to lay the dust, + hey? I ain’t made any inquiries myself, but I<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> shouldn’t wonder + if the Commodore—the feller that let you in—could find + somethin’ in the spare room closet or somewheres, if I ask him.” + </p> + <p> + The young man laughed. “If you mean a drink,” he said, “I + don’t care for it, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “What? You ain’t a teetotaler, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not exactly. But—” + </p> + <p> + “But you can get along without it, hey? So can I; generally do, fur’s + that goes. But <i>I’m</i> from South Denboro. I thought here in New + York—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there are many people, even here in New York, who are not + convinced that alcohol is a food.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t tell me! Well, I’m livin’ and learnin’ + every day. Judgin’ from stories and the yarns in the Boston + newspapers, folks up our way have the idea that this town is a sort of + annex to the bad place. All right, then we won’t trouble the + Commodore. I notice you’re lookin’ over my quarters. What do + you think of ’em?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson had, in spite of himself, been glancing about the room. Its luxury + and the evident signs of taste and wealth surprised him greatly. + </p> + <p> + “Astonish you to find me livin’ in a place like this, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, why, yes, it does, somewhat. I didn’t realize you were + such an aristocrat, Captain Warren. If I had, I might have been a little + more careful of my dress in making my first call.” + </p> + <p> + “Dress? Oh, you mean you’d have put on your Sunday clothes. + Well, I’m glad you didn’t. You see, <i>I</i> haven’t got + on my regimentals, and if you’d been on dress parade I might have + felt bashful. Ho, ho! I don’t wonder you are surprised. This is a + pretty swell neighborhood, ain’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>“These—er—apartments, + now. ’Bout as good as any in town, are they?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty nearly. There are few better—much better.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so. You wouldn’t call livin’ in ’em + economizin’ to any consider’ble extent, would you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” with a laugh; “no, <i>I</i> shouldn’t, but + my ideas of economy are—well, different. They have to be. Are you + ecomomizing, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha laughed and rubbed his knee. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he chuckled, “<i>I</i> ain’t, but my nephew + and niece are. These are their rooms.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you’re visiting?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t know’s you’d call it visitin’. + I don’t know what you would call it. I’m here, that’s + about all you can say.” + </p> + <p> + He paused and remained silent. His friend was silent, also, not knowing + exactly what remark to make. + </p> + <p> + “How’s the novel comin’ on?” asked the captain, a + minute later. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, slowly. I’m not at all sure it will ever be finished. I + get discouraged sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “No use in doin’ that. What sort of a yarn is it goin’ + to be? Give me a gen’ral idea of the course you’re tryin’ + to steer. That is, if it ain’t a secret.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t. But there’s mighty little worth telling. When + I began I thought I had a good scheme, but it seems pretty weak and + dish-watery now.” + </p> + <p> + “Most things do while their bein’ done, if you really care + about doin’ ’em well. Heave ahead! You said ’twas a sea + yarn, and I’m a sort of specialist when it comes to salt water. + Maybe I might prescribe just the right tonic, though ’tain’t + very likely.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson began to outline the plot of his novel, speaking<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> + slowly at first, but becoming more interested as he continued. Captain + Elisha listened meditatively, puffing solemnly at his cigar, and + interrupting but seldom. + </p> + <p> + “I think that’s a pretty good idea,” he observed, at + length. “Yes, sir, that sounds promisin’, to me. This cap’n + of yours now, he’s a good feller. Don’t get him too good, + though; that wouldn’t be natural. And don’t get him too bad, + neither. I know it’s the fashion, judgin’ by the sea yarns I’ve + read lately, to have a Yankee skipper sort of a cross between a prize + fighter and a murderer. Fust day out of port he begins by pickin’ + out the most sickly fo’mast hand aboard, mashes him up, and then + takes the next invalid. I got a book about that kind of a skipper out of + our library down home a spell ago, and the librarian said ’twas + awful popular. A strong story, she said, and true to life. Well, ’twas + strong—you could pretty nigh smell it—but as for bein’ + true to life, I had my doubts. I’ve been to sea, command of a + vessel, for a good many years, and sometimes I’d go weeks, whole + weeks, without jumpin’ up and down on a single sailor. Fact! Got my + exercise other ways, I presume likely. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you,” he went on, “the main trouble with that + tale of yours, as I see it, is that you’re talkin’ about + things you ain’t ever seen. Now there’s plenty you have seen, + I wouldn’t wonder. Let’s see, you was born in Belfast, you + said. Live there long, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, until I went away to school.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father, he went to sea, did he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But his ship was lost, with all hands, when I was a baby.” + </p> + <p> + “But your Uncle Jim wa’n’t lost. You remember him well; + you said so. Tell me something you remember.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>Before + the young man was aware of it, he was telling of his Uncle Jim, of the + latter’s return from voyages, of his own home life, of his mother, + and of the village where he spent his boyhood. Then, led on by the captain’s + questioning, he continued with his years at college, his experiences as + reporter and city editor. Without being conscious that he was doing so, he + gave his host a pretty full sketch of himself, his story, and his + ambitions. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pearson,” said Captain Elisha, earnestly, “don’t + you worry about that yarn of yours. If you’ll take the advice of an + old feller who knows absolutely nothin’ about such things, keep on + rememberin’ about your Uncle Jim. He was a man, every inch of him, + and a seaman, too. Put lots of him into this hero of yours, and you won’t + go fur wrong. And when it comes to handlin’ a ship, why—well, + if you <i>want</i> to come to me, I’ll try and help you out best I + can.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson was delighted. + </p> + <p> + “You <i>will</i>?” he cried. “Splendid! It’s + mighty good of you. May I spring some of my stuff on you as I write it?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin you may. Any time, I’ll be tickled to death. I’ll + be tickled to have you call, too; that is, if callin’ on an old salt + like me won’t be too tirin’.” + </p> + <p> + The answer was emphatic and reassuring. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Captain Elisha. “I’m much + obliged. Come often, do. I—well, the fact is, I’m likely to + get sort of lonesome myself, I’m afraid. Yes, I shouldn’t + wonder if I did.” + </p> + <p> + He sighed, tossed away the stump of his cigar, and added, + </p> + <p> + “Now, I want to ask you somethin’. You newspaper fellers are + supposed to know about all there is to know<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> of everything under the + sun. Do you know much about the Stock Exchange?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson smiled. + </p> + <p> + “All I can afford to know,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! That’s a pretty good answer. Knowledge is power, they + say, but—but I cal’late knowledge of the Stock Exchange is + poverty, with a good many folks.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you’re right, Captain. It’s none of my + business, but—were you planning to tackle Wall Street?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha glanced, under his brows, at his new friend, and his eyes + twinkled. + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t know but I might,” he replied, solemnly. “Ain’t + got any—er—tips, any sure things you want to put me on to, + have you?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not. My experience of Wall Street ‘sure things’ + leads me to believe that they’re sure—but only for the other + fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! I know a chap down home that made money in stocks. He made it + so easy that, as the boys say, ’twas almost a shame to take the + money. And ’twas the makin’ of him, too.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson was embarrassed and troubled. If this big-hearted, simple-minded + countryman had come to New York to buck the stock market, it was time to + sound a warning. But had he, on such short acquaintance, the right to + warn? The captain was shrewd in his own way. Might not the warning seem + presumptuous? + </p> + <p> + “So—this—this friend of yours was a successful + speculator, was he?” he asked. “He was lucky.” + </p> + <p> + “Think so? Well, maybe. His name was Elkanah Chase, and his dad was + old man ’Rastus Chase, who made consider’ble in cranberries + and one thing or ’nother. The old man brought Elkanah up to be what + he called a gentleman. Ho! ho! Hi hum! I ain’t sure what<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> + ’Rastus’s idea of a gentleman was, but if he cal’lated + to have his son a tramp in go-to-meetin’ clothes, he got his wish. + When the old man died, he willed the boy fifteen thousand dollars. Well, + fifteen thousand dollars is a fortune to some folks—if they ain’t + economizin’ in New York—but to Elkanah ’twas just about + enough to make him realize his poverty. So, to make it bigger, he got one + of them ‘tips’ from a college friend down here in Wall Street, + and put the heft of ten thousand into it. <i>And</i>, I swan, if it didn’t + double his money!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha’s visitor shook his head. He did not even smile. + </p> + <p> + “He was extremely fortunate,” he said. “I give you my + word, Captain Warren, that the majority of first speculators don’t + turn out that way. I hope he was wise enough to keep his profits.” + </p> + <p> + The captain rubbed his chin. + </p> + <p> + “Jim—” he began. “Excuse me, I should have said + Mr. Pearson, but I’ve got sort of in the habit of callin’ + folks by their first names. Livin’ where you know everybody so well + gets you into those habits.” + </p> + <p> + “Jim suits me. I hope you’ll cultivate the habit.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you? Well, I will. Now, Jim, referrin’ to what I was goin’ + to say, you, bein’ a newspaper man, ought to know everything, but it’s + pretty plain you don’t know Elkanah Chase. Keep his profits! Why, + when a feller is all but convinced that he knows it all, one little bit of + evidence like that speculation settles it for him conclusive. Elkanah, + realizin’ that Wall Street was his apple pie, opened his mouth to + swaller it at one gulp. He put his profits and every other cent he had + into another sure thing tip.” + </p> + <p> + “And won again?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>“No. + He lost all that and some more that he borrowed.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought you said it was the making of him!” + </p> + <p> + “It was. He had to take a job over at the overalls factory in + Ostable. As a fifteen thousand dollar gentleman, he was pretty average of + a mess, but they tell me he makes middlin’ good overalls. Elkanah + convinced me that Wall Street has its good points.” + </p> + <p> + He chuckled. Pearson, relieved, laughed in sympathy. “Has he paid + back the money he borrowed?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “No-o! I guess the creditors’ll have to take it out in + overalls. However, it’s a satisfaction to some of ’em to watch + Chase really work. I know that gives me <i>my</i> money’s worth.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ho! You are one of the creditors! Captain Warren, I’m + surprised. I sized you up as a shrewder judge of investments.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha colored. “I judged that one correct,” he + answered. “If I hadn’t thought ’twould have turned out + that way I never would have plunged. You see, old man Chase was a friend + of mine, and—However,” he added, hastily changing the subject, + “we’ve strayed some off the course. When I mentioned the Stock + Exchange I did it because my brother was a member of it, and I cal’late + you might have known him.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson was astonished. “Your brother was a member of the Exchange?” + he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Never would have guessed it, would you? I s’pose you + cal’late all the stock I knew about was on the hoof. Well, I have + been acquainted with other breeds in my time. My brother’s name was + Abijah Warren—A. Rodgers Warren, he called himself.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>The + effect of this announcement was instantaneous and electric. The young man + sat back in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “A. Rodgers Warren was your brother?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Seems to stagger you some. Contrast between us as big as all + that comes to?” + </p> + <p> + “But—but, Captain Warren—Your brother—Tell me, is + Miss Caroline Warren your niece?” + </p> + <p> + “She is. And Steve is my nephew. ’Tain’t possible you’re + acquainted with them?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson rose to his feet. “Is—They used to live on the Avenue,” + he said. “But you said you were visiting. Captain Warren, is this + your niece’s apartment?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, hers and Steve’s. Why, what’s the matter? Ain’t + goin’, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “I think perhaps I had better. It is getting late.” + </p> + <p> + “Late! It’s only the shank of the evenin’. Jim, I ain’t + so blind that I can’t see through an open window. It ain’t the + lateness that makes you want to leave so sudden. Is there some trouble + between you and Caroline? Course, it’s none of my business, and you + needn’t tell me unless you want to.” + </p> + <p> + The answer was prompt enough. + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Pearson. “No. I assure you there is + nothing of that kind. I—I met Miss Warren. In fact, at one time we + were well acquainted. I have the very highest opinion of her. But I think + it is best to—” + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute now. No trouble with Steve? He’s a boy and at + an age when he’s pretty well satisfied with himself and you have to + make allowance.” + </p> + <p> + “No. Steve and I were quite friendly. I’m sorry to cut my + visit short, but it is late and I <i>must</i> go.” + </p> + <p> + He was moving toward the door. Captain Elisha looked at him intently. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>“Well, + if you must,” he said. “But I hope you’ll come again + soon. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope I may. I give you my word, Captain, that I appreciate your + invitation, and I do want to know you better.” + </p> + <p> + “Same here. I don’t often take sudden fancies, Jim, but I knew + your uncle, and I’d bet consider’ble on any member of his + family. And I <i>was</i> kind of interested in that novel of yours. You + haven’t said you’d come again. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson was much embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to come, immensely,” he said, with an + earnestness unmistakable; “but—but, to be honest, Captain + Warren, there is a reason, one which I may tell you sometime, but can’t + now—neither Miss Warren nor her brother have any part in it—which + makes me reluctant to visit you here. Won’t you come and see me at + the boarding house? Here’s the address. <i>Will</i> you come?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin! I figured on doin’ it, if you gave me the chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, you’ll be welcome. Of course it is <i>only</i> a + boarding house, and not a very good one. My own room is—well, + different from this.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. Maybe that’s why I expect to feel at home in it. Good + night, Jim. Thank you for callin’. Shall I ring for the Commodore to + pilot you out?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I can find my way. I—Someone is coming.” + </p> + <p> + From the hall came the clang of the elevator door and the sound of voices. + Before the captain or his friend could move, Caroline, Stephen, Mrs. + Corcoran Dunn, and Malcolm entered. Caroline was the first to reach the + library. Her entrance brought her face to face with Pearson. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>“I + beg your pardon,” she began. “I did not know there was anyone + here.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s only a friend of mine, Caroline,” explained her + uncle, quickly. “Just callin’ on me, he was.” + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Miss Warren,” said Pearson, quietly. + </p> + <p> + The girl looked at him for an instant. Then her expression changed, and, + with a smile, she extended her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Pearson!” she exclaimed. “I’m very glad + to see you. You must excuse me for not recognizing you at once. Steve, you + remember Mr. Pearson.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen also extended a hand. + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” he said. “Glad to see you again, Pearson. Haven’t + met you for an age. How are you?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson shook both the hands. He was embarrassed and hesitated in his + reply. + </p> + <p> + “It <i>has</i> been some time since we met,” he said. “This + is an unexpected pleasure. Ah, Mr. Dunn, good evening.” + </p> + <p> + “It is Mr. Pearson, the financial writer of the <i>Planet</i>, + Malcolm,” said Caroline. “You used to know him, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t remember, I’m sure. Yes, I do. Met you at the + University Club, didn’t I?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I was formerly a member.” + </p> + <p> + “And let me present you to Mrs. Corcoran Dunn,” went on the + girl. “Mr. Pearson used to know father well.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn inspected the visitor through her lorgnette, and condescended to + admit that she was “delighted.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m very glad you called,” continued Caroline. “We + were just in time, weren’t we? Do sit down. And if you will wait a + minute until we remove our wraps—Steve ring for Edwards, please.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>“I’m + afraid I can’t wait, Miss Warren. I dropped in to see your uncle, at + his invitation, and, as a matter of fact, I didn’t know—” + </p> + <p> + “To see our <i>uncle</i>!” interrupted Stephen, in amazement. + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Your uncle, Captain Warren here,” explained Pearson, + surprised in his turn. “He and I made each other’s + acquaintance yesterday, and he asked me to call.” + </p> + <p> + “You—you called to see <i>him</i>?” repeated Stephen. + “Why, what in the world—?” + </p> + <p> + “I took the liberty of askin’ him, Caroline,” observed + Captain Elisha quietly, and ignoring the last speaker. “I didn’t + know you knew him, and I used to sail along with <i>his</i> uncle, so he + seemed almost like own folks.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Caroline’s manner changed. “I presume it was + a business call,” she said slowly. “I beg pardon for + interrupting. We had not seen you since father’s death, Mr. Pearson, + and I assumed that you had called upon my brother and me. Excuse me. Mrs. + Dunn, we will go into the drawing-room.” + </p> + <p> + She led the way toward the apartment. Captain Elisha was about to speak. + Pearson, however, explained for him. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Warren,” he said, “if by a business call you mean + one in the interest of the <i>Planet</i>, I assure you that you are + mistaken. I am no longer connected with any paper. I met Captain Warren, + under rather unusual circumstances. We discovered that we had mutual + friends and mutual interests. He asked me to call on him, and I did so. I + did not know, until five minutes ago, that he was your uncle or that you + and your brother lived here. I beg you won’t leave the room on my + account. I was about to go when you came. Good evening.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> + He bowed and stepped toward the hall. Captain Elisha laid a hand on his + arm and detained him. + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute,” he said. “Caroline, I want you and + Steve to know that what Mr. Pearson says is exactly true. I ain’t + the kind to talk to the newspapers about the private affairs of my + relations, and, if I’m any judge of character, Mr. Pearson, knowin’ + you as it seems he does, wouldn’t be the kind to listen. That’s + all. Now, Jim, if you must go.” + </p> + <p> + He and his guest were at the door. Caroline and Mrs. Dunn were at the + opposite side of the room. Suddenly the girl halted, turned, and, moving + across to where her uncle and the young man were standing, once more + extended her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pearson,” she said, impulsively, “again I ask your + pardon. I should have known. I am very sorry I spoke as I did. Will you + forgive me?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson colored. His embarrassment was more evident than before. + </p> + <p> + “There is no occasion for apology, Miss Warren,” he said. + “I don’t wonder you thought I had come in my former capacity + as reporter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you do. You <i>must</i> have wondered. I am very glad you + called to see my—my guardian, and I hope you will continue to do so. + Father used to speak so highly of you, and I’m sure he valued your + friendship. Stephen and I wish to consider his friends ours. Please + believe that you are welcome here at any time.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson’s reply was brief. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Miss Warren,” he said. “You are very kind. + Good evening.” + </p> + <p> + In the hall, as they waited for the elevator, Captain Elisha, happier than + at any time since his arrival in New York, clapped his friend on the + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>“Jim,” + he said, “I was beginnin’ to doubt my judgment of things and + folks. Now I feel better. That niece of mine has got the right stuff in + her. After <i>that</i> invitation, you will come and see us once in a + while. That makes it easier, hey?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson shook his head. “I’m not sure, Captain,” he + observed, slowly, “that it doesn’t make it harder. I shall + look for you at the boarding house very soon. Don’t disappoint me. + Good night.” + </p> + <p> + The captain’s last remark that evening was made to Edwards, whom he + met just outside the door of his bedroom. + </p> + <p> + “Commodore,” he said, “a barn full of rats is a + nuisance, ain’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir?” stammered the astonished butler. + </p> + <p> + “I say a barn full of rats is a nuisance.” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes, sir. I should think it might be, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. Well, I know a worse one. It’s a house full of + mysteries. By, by, Son. Pleasant dreams.” + </p> + <p> + He sat up until late, meditating profoundly. Then, taking from its + envelope the letter yet unsealed, which he had written to Miss Abigail + Baker, he added this postscript: + </p> + <div class="blockquot"> + <p> + “Eleven o’clock. I have decided, Abbie, to accept the + guardianship and the rest of it, for a spell, anyhow. Shall notify the + lawyers in the morning. Necessity is one thing, and pleasure is another. + I doubt if I find the job pleasant, but I guess it is necessary. Anyhow, + it looks that way to me.” + </p> + </div> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER VIII + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">A</span>nnouncement + of Captain Elisha’s decision followed quickly. Sylvester, Kuhn, and + Graves received the telephone message stating it, and the senior partner + was unqualifiedly delighted. Kuhn accepted his associate’s opinion + with some reservation. “It is an odd piece of business, the whole of + it,” he declared. “I shall be curious to see how it works out.” + As for Mr. Graves, when the information was conveyed to him by messenger, + he expressed disgust and dismay. “Ridiculous!” he said. + “Doctor, I simply must be up and about within the next few days. It + is necessary that a sane, conservative man be at the office. Far be it + from me to say a word against Sylvester, as a lawyer, but he is subject to + impressions. I imagine this Cape Codder made him laugh, and, therefore, in + his opinion, is all right. I’m glad I’m not a joker.” + </p> + <p> + The captain said that he would be down later on to talk things over. + Meanwhile, if the “papers and such” could be gotten together, + it would “sort of help along.” Sylvester explained that there + were certain legal and formal ceremonies pertaining to the acceptance of + the trust to be gone through with, and these must have precedence. “All + right,” answered the captain. “Let’s have ’em all + out at once and get the ache and agony over. I’ll see you by and by.” + </p> + <p> + When Mrs. Corcoran Dunn made her daily visit to the Warren apartment that + afternoon, she found Caroline<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" + id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> alone and almost in tears. Captain + Elisha had broken the news at the table during luncheon, after which he + went downtown. Stephen, having raved, protested, and made himself + generally disagreeable and his sister correspondingly miserable, had + departed for the club. It was a time for confidences, and the wily Mrs. + Dunn realized that fact. She soothed, comforted, and within half an hour, + had learned the whole story. Caroline told her all, the strange will, the + disclosure concerning the country uncle, and the inexplicable clauses + begging the latter to accept the executorship, the trust, and the charge + of her brother and herself. Incidentally she mentioned that a possible + five hundred thousand was the extreme limit of the family’s + pecuniary resources. + </p> + <p> + “Now you know everything,” sobbed Caroline. “Oh, Mrs. + Dunn, <i>you</i> won’t desert us, will you?” + </p> + <p> + The widow’s reply was a triumph, of its kind. In it were expressed + sorrow, indignation, pity, and unswerving loyalty. Desert them? Desert the + young people, toward whom she had come to feel almost like a mother? + Never! + </p> + <p> + “You may depend on Malcolm and me, my dear,” she declared. + “We are not fair-weather friends. And, after all, it is not so very + bad. Affairs might be very much worse.” + </p> + <p> + “Worse! Oh, Mrs. Dunn, how could they be? Think of it! Stephen and I + are dependent upon him for everything. We must ask him for every penny. + And whatever he says to do we <i>must</i> do. We’re obliged to. Just + think! if he decides to take us back with him to—South Denboro, or + whatever dreadful place he comes from, we shall have to go—and live + there.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> + “But he won’t, my dear. He won’t. It will take some time + to settle your father’s affairs, and the business will have to be + transacted here in New York.” + </p> + <p> + “I know. I suppose that’s true. But that doesn’t make it + any easier. If he stops here he will stay with us. And what shall we do? + We can’t introduce him to our friends, or, at least, to any except + our best, our understanding friends, like you and Malcolm.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I’m not sure. He is rather—well—er—countryfied, + but I believe he has a good heart. He is not rude or unkind or anything of + that sort, is he?” + </p> + <p> + “No. No-o. He’s not that, at all. In fact, he means to be kind + in his way. But it’s such a different way from ours. He is not used + to society; he wouldn’t understand that certain things and ways were + absolutely essential. I suppose it isn’t his fault exactly, but that + doesn’t help. And how can we tell him?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know that you can tell him, but you might hint. + Diplomacy, my dear, is one of the necessary elements of life. Whatever + else you do remember to be diplomatic. My poor husband used to have a pet + proverb—he was interested in politics, my dear, and some of his + sayings were a trifle grotesque but very much to the point. He used to say + that one could get rid of more flies with molasses than with a club. And I + think he was right. Now let me consider. Let’s look the situation + right in the face. Of course your guardian, as a companion, as an + associate for us, for our kind of people, is, to be quite frank, + impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Yes, I’m sure he is.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But he <i>is</i> your guardian. Therefore, we can’t get + rid of him with—well, with a club. He must be endured and made as + endurable as possible. And it certainly will not do to offend him.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>“Steve + says we must do what he calls freezing him out—make him feel that we + do not want him here.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Well, Stephen is a nice boy—Malcolm adores him—but + he isn’t a diplomat. If we should—what is it?—freeze out + your uncle—” + </p> + <p> + “Please call him something else.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we’ll call him the encumbrance on the estate; that’s + legal, I believe, and expresses it nicely. If we should freeze out the + encumbrance, we <i>might</i> freeze him to his village, and he <i>might</i> + insist on your going with him, which wouldn’t do at <i>all</i>, my + dear. For one thing, Malcolm would probably insist on going, also, and I, + for one, don’t yearn for rural simplicity. Ha! ha! Oh, you mustn’t + mind me. I’m only a doting mamma, dearie, and I have my air castles + like everyone else. So, freezing out won’t do. No, you and Steve + must be polite to our encumbrance.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not get on my knees to him and beg. That I sha’n’t + do.” + </p> + <p> + “No one expects you to. If anyone begs it should be he. Condescend + to just a little. Make him feel his place. Correct him when he goes too + far wrong, and ignore him when he gets assertive. As for getting rid of + him at times when it may be necessary—well, I think you may safely + leave that to me.” + </p> + <p> + “To you? Oh, Mrs. Dunn, we couldn’t think of dragging you into + it. It is bad enough that we should be disgraced; but you must not be.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear child, I <i>think</i> my position in society is + sufficiently established to warrant a risk or two. If <i>I</i> am seen in + company with—with the encumbrance, people will merely say, ‘Oh, + it’s another of her eccentricities!’ that’s all. Now, + don’t worry, and don’t fret all that pretty color from your + cheeks. Always remember<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" + id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> this: it is but for a year or a trifle + over. Then you will be of age and can send your encumbrance to the + right-about in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline, under the spell of this convincing eloquence, began to cheer up. + She even smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, “I will try to be diplomatic. I really + will. But Stephen—I’m not sure what dreadful thing <i>he</i> + will do.” + </p> + <p> + “He will return to college soon. I will take upon myself the + convincing of the encumbrance to that effect. And while he is at home, + Malcolm will take charge of him. He will be delighted to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Dunn, how can we ever thank you sufficiently? What should we + do without you and Malcolm?” + </p> + <p> + “I <i>hope</i>, my dear, that you will never have to do without me; + not for many years, at any rate. Of course, there is always my poor heart, + but—we won’t worry, will we?” + </p> + <p> + So, with a kiss and an embrace, this affecting interview ended. + </p> + <p> + There was another that evening between Mrs. Dunn and her son, which was + not devoid of interest. Malcolm listened to the information which his + mother gave him, and commented upon it in characteristic fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he observed, “two hundred and fifty thousand, + instead of the two million you figured on, Mater! Two hundred and fifty + thousand isn’t so much, in these days.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied his parent, sharply, “it isn’t so + much, but it isn’t so little, either.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose one can get along on it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, one can. In fact, I know of two who are managing with a good + deal less. Don’t be any more of a fool than you can help, Malcolm. + The sum itself isn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" + id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> small, and, besides, the Warrens are a + family of standing. To be connected with them is worth a good deal. There + are infinite possibilities in it. Oh, if only I might live to see the day + when tradespeople meant something other than nuisances to be dodged, I <i>think</i> + I could die contented.” + </p> + <p> + “Caro’s a decent sort of a girl,” commented Malcolm, + reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “She’s a bright girl and an attractive one. Just now she is in + a mood to turn to us, to you. But, for Heaven’s sake, be careful! + She is delicate and sensitive and requires managing. She likes you. If + only you weren’t such a blunderer!” + </p> + <p> + “Much obliged, Mater. You’re free with your compliments this + evening. What’s the trouble? Another ‘heart’?”” + </p> + <p> + “No. My heart I can trust, up to certain limits. But I’m + afraid of your head, just as I always was of your father’s. And here’s + one more bit of advice: Be careful how you treat that country uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “The Admiral! Ho! ho! He’s a card.” + </p> + <p> + “He may be the trump that will lose us the trick. Treat him civilly; + yes, even cordially, if you can. And <i>don’t</i> insult him as you + did the first time you and he met.” + </p> + <p> + The young man crossed his legs, and grunted in resignation. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “it’s going to be a confounded + bore, but, at the very longest, it’ll last but a year. Then Caro + will be her own mistress.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But there are three hundred and sixty-five days in a year; + remember that.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Mater. You can bet on me. The old hayseed and I will be + bosom pals. Wait and see.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>The + formalities at the lawyers’ took some time. Captain Elisha was + absent from the apartment the better part of the following two days. The + evenings, however, he spent with his niece and nephew, and, if at all + sensitive to sudden changes of the temperature, he must have noticed that + the atmosphere of the library was less frigid. Caroline was not + communicative, did not make conversation, nor was she in the least + familiar; but she answered his questions, did not leave the room when he + entered, and seemed inclined to accept his society with resignation, if + not with enthusiasm. Even Stephen was less sarcastic and bitter. At times, + when his new guardian did or said something which offended his highly + cultivated sense of the proprieties, he seemed inclined to burst out with + a sneer; but a quick “ahem!” or a warning glance from his + sister caused him to remain silent and vent his indignation by kicking a + footstool or barking a violent order at the unresisting Edwards. Caroline + and her brother had had a heart to heart talk, and, as a result, the + all-wise young gentleman promised to make no more trouble than he could + help. + </p> + <p> + “Though, by gad, Caro,” he declared, “it’s only + for you I do it! If I had my way the old butt-in should understand exactly + what I think of him.” + </p> + <p> + On Thursday, after luncheon, as Captain Elisha sat in his own room, + reading a book he had taken from the library, there came a knock at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Come ahead in!” ordered the captain. Caroline entered. Her + uncle rose and put down the book. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he exclaimed, “is it you? Excuse me. I thought + ’twas the Commodore—Edwards, I mean. If I’d known you + was comin’ callin’, Caroline, I shouldn’t have been + quite so bossy. Guess I’d have opened the door for you, instead of + lettin’ you do it yourself.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>“Thank + you,” answered his niece. “I came to see you on—I + suppose you might call it business. At any rate, it is a financial matter. + I sha’n’t detain you long.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha was a trifle disappointed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” he said, “on business, was it? I hoped—I + didn’t know but you’d come just out of sociability. However, I’m + mighty glad to see you, Caroline, no matter what it’s for. That’s + a real becomin’ dress you’ve got on,” he added, + inspecting her admiringly. “I declare, you look prettier every time + I see you. You favor your pa consider’ble; I can see it more and + more. ’Bije had about all the good looks there was in our family,” + with a chuckle. “Set down, do.” + </p> + <p> + The girl seated herself in a rocker, and looked at him for a moment + without speaking. She seemed to have something on her mind, and not to + know exactly how to express it. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Warren,” she began, “I—I came to ask a + favor. I am obliged to ask it, because you are our—” she + almost choked over the hated word—“our guardian, and I can no + longer act on my own responsibility. I wish to ask you for some money.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha nodded gravely. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” he said. “Well, Caroline, I don’t believe + you’ll find me very close-fisted. I think I told you and Steve that + you was to do just as you’d been in the habit of doin’. Of + course I <i>am</i> your guardian now, and I shall be held responsible for + whatever expense comes to the estate. It is quite a responsibility, and I + so understand it. As I said to you when I told you I’d decided to + take the job on trial, <i>while</i> I have it it’ll be my pride to + see that you or your brother don’t lose anything. I intend, if the + Almighty spares me so long and I keep on with the trust, to turn over, + when my term’s out, at least<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" + id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> as much to you and Steve as your father + left. That’s all. Excuse me for mentioning it again. Now, how much + do you want? Is your reg’lar allowance too small? Remember, I don’t + know much about such things here in New York, and you must be frank and + aboveboard and tell me if you have any complaints.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no complaints. My allowance is sufficient. It is the same + that father used to give me, and it is all I need. But this is a matter + outside my personal needs.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Somethin’ to do with the household expenses, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “No. It is—is a matter of—well, of charity. It may + amount to several hundred dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. I see. Charity, hey? Church?” + </p> + <p> + “No. One of the maids, Annie, has trouble at home, and I wanted to + help her.” + </p> + <p> + The captain nodded once more. + </p> + <p> + “Annie,” he repeated, “that’s the rosy-faced one? + The Irish one?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Her father was seriously injured the other day and cannot + work. His hip is broken, and the doctor’s bill will be large. They + are very poor, and I thought perhaps—” She hesitated, + faltered, and then said haughtily: “Father was very sympathetic and + liked to have me do such things.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! sho! Sartin! Course he did. I like it, too. I’m glad you + came to me just as you did, Caroline. How much do you want to start with?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, exactly. I thought I might ask our own doctor + to attend to the case, and might send them some delicacies and food.” + </p> + <p> + “Good idea! Go right ahead, Caroline.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. I have been over to see them, and they need help—they + really do.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> + “I presume likely. How’d the accident happen? Anybody’s + fault, was it?” + </p> + <p> + Caroline’s eyes snapped. “Indeed it was!” she said, + indignantly. “It was a wet morning, after a rain, and the pavement + was slippery. Mr. Moriarty, Annie’s father, was not working that day—they + were making some repairs at the factory where he is employed, I believe—and + he had gone out to do the family marketing. He was crossing the street + when an automobile, recklessly driven, so everyone says, drove directly + down on him. He tried to jump out of the way and succeeded—otherwise + he might have been killed; but he fell and broke his hip. He is an old + man, and the case is serious.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear! dear! you don’t tell me! Poor old chap! The auto feller—did + he help? Seems to me he ought to be the one to be spendin’ the + money. ’Twas his fault.” + </p> + <p> + “Help! Indeed he didn’t! He and the man with him merely + laughed, as if it was a good joke, put on speed, and disappeared as + quickly as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the mean swab! Did this Mr. Moriarty or the folks around get + the license number of the auto?” + </p> + <p> + “No. All they know is that it was a big yellow car with two men in + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? A yellow car?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Somewhat similar to the one Malcolm—Mr. Dunn drives.” + </p> + <p> + “So, so! Hum! Where did it happen?” + </p> + <p> + “On Saint Nicholas Avenue, near One Hundred and Twenty-Eighth + Street.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Saint Nicholas Avenue, you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” Caroline rose and turned to go. “Thank you, + Captain Warren,” she said. “I will tell Doctor Henry to take + the case at once.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> + The captain did not answer immediately. With his chin in his hand he was + gazing at the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Good afternoon,” said Caroline. + </p> + <p> + Her uncle looked up. + </p> + <p> + “Er—Wait just a minute, Caroline,” he said. “I + guess maybe, if you don’t mind, I’d like to think this over a + little afore you go too far. You have your doctor go right ahead and see + to the old man, and you order the things to eat and whatever’s + necessary. But afore you give Annie or her father any money, I’d + kind of like to figger a little mite.” + </p> + <p> + His niece stopped short, turned and stared at him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she said, slowly and icily, “I see. Please don’t + trouble yourself. I should have known. However, my allowance is my own, + and I presume I am permitted to do what I please with that.” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, don’t be hasty. I ain’t sayin’ no about + the money. Far from it. I only—” + </p> + <p> + “I understand—thoroughly. Don’t trouble to ‘figure,’ + as you call it. Oh! <i>why</i> did I humiliate myself? I should have + known!” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, please—” + </p> + <p> + But the girl had gone, closing the door after her. Captain Elisha shook + his head, heaved a deep sigh, and then, sinking back into his chair, + relapsed into meditation. Soon afterward he put on his hat and coat and + went out. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later he entered the office of a firm of commission brokers + on lower Broad Street, and inquired if a gentleman by the name of Mr. + Malcolm Dunn was connected with that establishment. On being answered in + the affirmative, he asked if Mr. Dunn were in. Yes, he was. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Captain Elisha, “I’d like to speak to<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> him a + minute or so. Just tell him my name’s Warren, if you don’t + mind, young feller.” + </p> + <p> + The clerk objected to being addressed as “young feller,” and + showed his disapproval by the haughty and indifferent manner in which he + departed on the errand. However, he did so depart, and returned followed + by Malcolm himself. The latter, who had been misled by the name into + supposing his caller to be Stephen Warren, was much astonished when he saw + the captain seated outside the railing. + </p> + <p> + “Good afternoon,” said Captain Elisha, rising and extending + his hand: “How are you to-day, sir? Pretty smart?” + </p> + <p> + The young man answered briefly that he was all right. He added he was glad + to see his visitor, a statement more polite than truthful. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what’s up?” he inquired, condescendingly. “Nothing + wrong with Caro or Steve, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “No, they’re fust-rate, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s doing, then? Is it pleasure or business?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, a little of both, maybe. It’s always a pleasure to see + you, of course; and I have got a little mite of business on hand.” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm smiled, in his languid fashion. If he suspected sarcasm in the + first part of the captain’s reply, it did not trouble him. His + self-sufficiency was proof against anything of that sort. + </p> + <p> + “Business,” he repeated. “Well, that’s what I’m + here for. Thinking of cornering the—er—potato market, were + you?” + </p> + <p> + “No-o. Cranberries would be more in my line, and I cal’late + you fellers don’t deal in that kind of sass. I had a private matter + I wanted to talk over with you, Mr. Dunn; that is, if you ain’t too + busy.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>Malcolm + looked at him with an amused curiosity. As he had expressed it in the + conversation with his mother, this old fellow certainly was a “card.” + He seated himself on the arm of the oak settle from which the captain had + risen and, lazily swinging a polished shoe, admitted that he was always + busy but never too busy to oblige. + </p> + <p> + “What’s on your mind, Captain?” he drawled. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha glanced about him somewhat uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don’t know as I made it quite clear,” he + said, “that it was sort of private; somethin’ just between us, + you understand.” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm hesitated. Sliding from the settle, and impatiently commanding the + clerk to open the gate in the railing, he led his caller through the main + office and into a small room beyond. On the glass pane of the door was + lettered, “Mr. Dunn—Private.” A roll-top desk in the + corner and three chairs were the furniture. Malcolm, after closing the + door, sprawled in the swing chair before the desk, threw one leg over a + drawer, which he pulled out for that purpose, and motioned his companion + to occupy one of the other chairs. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha took the offered chair and dropped his hat on the floor + beside it. Then he inspected the room and its furnishings with interest. + Dunn drew out a pocket case, extracted a cigarette, lit it, and waited for + him to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” observed the young man, after a moment, “what’s + the trouble, Admiral? Better get it off your chest, hadn’t you? We’re + private enough here.” + </p> + <p> + The captain answered the last question. “Yes,” he said, + “this is nice and private. Got a stateroom all to yourself; name on + the door, and everything complete. You must be one of the officers of the + craft.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>“Um-hm. + I sort of expected to find your name on the door outside, but there + ’twas, ‘Smith, Haynes & Co.’ I presume likely you’re + the ‘Co.’” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> ‘presume likely,’” with mocking + impatience. “What about that private matter?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha did not appear to hear him. His eyes were fixed on several + photographs stuck in the rail of Mr. Dunn’s desk. The photos were + those of young ladies. + </p> + <p> + “Friends of yours?” inquired the captain, nodding toward the + photographs. + </p> + <p> + “No.” Dunn took the photos from the rack and threw them into a + pigeon hole. “Look here,” he said, pointedly, “I wouldn’t + hurry you for the world, but—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. Captain Elisha did not take the hint. His mind was evidently + still busy with the vanished photographs. + </p> + <p> + “Just fancy pictures, I s’pose, hey?” he commented. + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless. Any other little points I can give you?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess not. I thought they was fancy; looked so to me. Well, about + that private matter. Mr. Dunn, I come to see you about an automobile.” + </p> + <p> + “An automobile!” The young man was so astonished that he + actually removed his feet from the desk. Then he burst into a laugh. + “An automobile?” he repeated. “Captain, has the + influence of the metropolis made you a sport already? Do you want to buy a + car?” + </p> + <p> + “Buy one?” It was Captain Elisha’s turn to show + irritation. “Buy one of them things? Me? I wouldn’t buy one of + ’em, or run one of ’em, for somethin’, <i>I</i> tell + you! No, I don’t want to buy one.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? Sell you mine for a price.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if I see you fust, thank you. No, Mr. Dunn, ’tain’t + that. But one of the hired help up to our place—Caroline’s<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> + place, I mean—is in trouble on account of one of the dratted + machines. They’re poor folks, of course, and they need money to help + ’em through the doctorin’ and nursin’ and while the old + man’s out of work. Caroline was for givin’ it to ’em + right off, she’s a good-hearted girl; but I said—that is, I + kind of coaxed her out of it. I thought I’d ask some questions + first.” + </p> + <p> + “So you came to me to ask them?” Malcolm smiled contentedly. + Evidently the cares and complications of guardianship were already proving + too intricate for the unsophisticated countryman. He wished advice, and + had come to him for it, possibly at Caroline’s suggestion. Affairs + were shaping themselves well. Here was an opportunity to act the + disinterested friend, as per maternal instructions. + </p> + <p> + “So you wanted to ask questions, did you, Captain?” he + repeated. “Well, fire away. Anything I can do to help you or + Caroline will be a pleasure, of course. Smoke?” + </p> + <p> + He offered the cigarette case. The captain eyed it dubiously and shook his + head. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said; “no, thank you, I commenced smokin’ + at the butt end, I guess. Begun with a pipe, and them things would seem + sort of kindergarten, I’m afraid. No offense meant, you understand. + It’s all accordin’ to what you’ve been used to. Well, + about the questions. Here’s the first one: Don’t it seem to + you that the right one to pay for the doctorin’ and nursin’ + and such of Mr. Moriarty—that’s Annie’s pa—ought + to be the feller who hurt him? That feller, instead of Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing! If you know who did it, he’s your mark.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>“He + could be held responsible, couldn’t he?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. So I thought. And if he was a right-minded chap, he’d + be glad to help the poor critter, providin’ he knew what damage he’d + done; wouldn’t you think so?” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm nodded sagely, opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it + again. A sudden recollection came to him, an alarming recollection. He + turned in his chair and looked at his visitor. Captain Elisha met his gaze + frankly. + </p> + <p> + “Where did this accident happen?” asked Mr. Dunn, his + condescending smile absent. + </p> + <p> + “At the corner of Saint Nicholas Avenue and One Hundred and + Twenty-Eighth Street. It happened last Friday mornin’, a week ago. + And the car that hit him was a yellow one.” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm did not answer. His pale face grew paler, and then flushed a + brilliant red. The captain seemed to feel sorry for him. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” he went on, “when I heard about it, I + remembered what you told Mr. Sylvester and me at the club that afternoon. + I understand how ’twas, of course. You never thought you’d + done any real harm and just went on, thinkin’ ’twas a good + joke, much as anything. If you’d known you’d really hurt the + poor old man, you’d have stopped to see him. I understand that. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” interrupted Dunn, sharply, “did Caroline + send you to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline? No, no! She don’t know ’twas your automobile + at all. I never said a word to her, ’tain’t likely. But afore + she spent any of her money, I thought you’d ought to know, because I + was sure you wouldn’t <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" + id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>let her. That’s the way I’d + feel, and I felt ’twas no more’n honest to give you the + chance. I come on my own hook; she didn’t know anything about it.” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm drummed on the desk with nervous fingers. The flush remained on + his face, his cigarette had gone out, and he threw the stump savagely into + the wastepaper basket. Captain Elisha remained silent. At length the young + man spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he growled, pettishly, “how much will it take to + square things with the gang? How much damages do they want?” + </p> + <p> + “Damages? Oh, there won’t be any claim for damages, I guess. + That is, no lawsuit, or anything of that kind. The Moriartys don’t + know you did it, and there’s no reason why they should. I thought + maybe I’d see to ’em and do whatever was necessary; then you + could settle with me, and the whole business would be just between us two. + Outside the doctor’s bills and food and nursin’ and such, all + the extry will be just the old man’s wages for the time he’s + away from the factory. ’Twon’t be very heavy.” + </p> + <p> + More reflection and finger tattoo by his companion. Then: + </p> + <p> + “All right! I’m in it, I can see that; and it’s up to me + to get out as easy as I can. I don’t want any newspaper publicity. + Go ahead! I’ll pay the freight.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha arose and picked up his hat. + </p> + <p> + “That’s fust-rate,” he said, with emphasis. “I + felt sure you’d see it just as I did. There’s one thing I + would like to say,” he added: “that is, that you mustn’t + think I was stingy about helpin’ ’em myself. But it wa’n’t + really my affair; and when Caroline spoke of spendin’ her money and + Steve’s, I didn’t feel I’d ought to let her. You see, I + don’t know as you know it yet,<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> Mr. Dunn, but my brother + ’Bije left me in charge of his whole estate, and, now that I’ve + decided to take the responsibility, I’ve got a sort of pride in not + wastin’ any of his children’s inheritance. Good day, Mr. Dunn. + I’m much obliged to you.” + </p> + <p> + He opened the office door. Malcolm, frowning heavily, suddenly asked a + final question. + </p> + <p> + “Say!” he demanded, “you’ll not tell Caroline or + Steve a word of this, mind!” + </p> + <p> + The captain seemed surprised. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you didn’t catch what I said, Mr. Dunn,” he + observed, mildly. “I told you this whole business would be just + between you and me.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER IX + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">C</span>aptain + Elisha was very far from considering himself a Solomon. As he would have + said he had lived long enough with himself to know what a lot he didn’t + know. Nevertheless, deep down in his inner consciousness, he cherished a + belief in his judgment of human nature. This judgment was not of the snap + variety; he took his time in forming it. People and their habits, their + opinions and characters, were to him interesting problems. He liked to + study them and to reach conclusions founded upon reason, observation, and + common sense. Having reached such a conclusion, it disturbed him when the + subjects of the problem suddenly upset the whole process of reasoning and + apparently proved him wrong by behavior exactly contrary to that which he + had expected. + </p> + <p> + He had been pretty well satisfied with the result of his visit to young + Dunn at the latter’s office. Malcolm had surrendered, perhaps not + gracefully or unconditionally, but he had surrendered, and the condition—secrecy—was + one which the captain himself had suggested. Captain Elisha’s mental + attitude toward the son of the late Tammany leader had been a sort of + good-natured but alert tolerance. He judged the young man to be a product + of rearing and environment. He had known spoiled youths at the Cape and, + in their surroundings, they behaved much as Malcolm did in his. The same + disrespect to their elders, the same cock-sureness, and the same careless + indifference concerning the effect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" + id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> which their actions might have upon + other people—these were natural and nothing but years and the hard + knocks of experience could bring about a change. Elkanah Chase, country + swell and pampered heir to the cranberry grower’s few thousands, and + Malcolm Dunn, idol of his set at the Metropolitan Club, were not so very + different, except in externals. The similarity confirmed his opinion that + New York was merely South Denboro many thousand times magnified. + </p> + <p> + He knew how young Chase had behaved after an interview not unlike that + just described. In Elkanah’s case several broken windows and + property destroyed on a revel the night before the Fourth had caused the + trouble. In Malcolm’s it was an automobile. Both had listened to + reason and had knuckled under rather than face possible lawsuits and + certain publicity. Chase, however, had sulkily refused to speak to him for + a month, and regained affability merely because he wished to borrow money. + According to the captain’s deduction, Dunn should have acted in + similar fashion. But he didn’t; that was the odd part of it. + </p> + <p> + For Malcolm, when he next called, in company with his mother, at the + Warren apartment, was not in the least sulky. Neither was he over + effusive, which would have argued fear and a desire to conciliate. + Possibly there was a bit more respect in his greeting of the new guardian + and a trifle less condescension, but not much. He still hailed Captain + Elisha as “Admiral,” and was as mockingly careless as ever in + his remarks concerning the latter’s newness in the big city. In + fact, he was so little changed that the captain was perplexed. A chap who + could take a licking when he deserved it, and not hold malice, must have + good in him, unless, of course, he was hiding the malice for a purpose. + And if that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> + purpose was the wish to appear friendly, then the manner of hiding it + proved Malcolm Dunn to possess more brains than Captain Elisha had given + him credit for. + </p> + <p> + One thing seemed sure, the Dunns were not openly hostile. And Caroline + was. Since the interview in the library, when the girl had, as she + considered it, humiliated herself by asking her guardian for money to help + the Moriartys, she had scarcely spoken to him. Stephen, taking his cue + from his sister, was morose and silent, also. Captain Elisha found it hard + to forgive his dead brother for bringing all this trouble upon him. + </p> + <p> + His lawyers, so Sylvester informed him, were setting about getting Rodgers + Warren’s tangible assets together. The task was likely to be a long + one. The late broker’s affairs were in a muddled state, the books + were anything but clear, some of the investments were foreign, and, at the + very earliest, months must elapse before the executor and trustee could + know, for certain, just how large a property he was in charge of. + </p> + <p> + He found some solace and forgetfulness of the unpleasant life he was + leading in helping the stricken Moriarty family. Annie, the maid at the + apartment, he swore to secrecy. She must not tell Miss Caroline of his + visits to her parents’ home. Doctor Henry, also, though he could not + understand why, promised silence. Caroline herself had engaged his + services in the case, and he was faithful. But the patient was more + seriously hurt than at first appeared, and consultations with a specialist + were necessary. + </p> + <p> + “Goin’ to be a pretty expensive job, ain’t it, Doctor?” + asked the captain of the physician. + </p> + <p> + “Rather, I’m afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. If expense is necessary, don’t be afraid<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> of + it. You do just what you’d ought to, and send the bill to me.” + </p> + <p> + “But Miss Warren insisted upon my sending it to her. She said it was + a private matter, and one with which you, as her guardian, had nothing to + do.” + </p> + <p> + “I know. Caroline intends to use her own allowance, I s’pose. + Well, let her think she will, if ’twill please her. But when it + comes to the settlement, call on me. Give her any reason you want to; say + a—er—wealthy friend of the family come to life all at once and + couldn’t sleep nights unless he paid the costs.” + </p> + <p> + “But there isn’t any such friend, is there, Captain Warren? + Other than yourself, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha grinned in appreciation of a private joke. “There is + somebody else,” he admitted, “who’ll pay a share, + anyhow. I don’t know’s he’s what you call a bosom + friend, and, as for his sleepin’ nights—well, I never heard he + couldn’t do that, after he went to bed. But, anyhow, you saw wood, + or bones, or whatever you have to do, and leave the rest to me. And don’t + tell Caroline or anybody else a word.” + </p> + <p> + The Moriartys lived in a four-room flat on the East Side, uptown, and his + visits there gave the captain a glimpse of another sort of New York life, + as different from that of Central Park West as could well be imagined. The + old man, Patrick, his wife, Margaret, the unmarried son, Dennis, who + worked in the gas house, and five other children of various ages were + hived somehow in those four small rooms and Captain Elisha marveled + greatly thereat. + </p> + <p> + “For the land sakes, ma’am,” he asked of the nurse, + “how do they do it? Where do they put ’em nights? That—that + closet in there’s the pantry and woodshed and kitchen and dinin’ + room; and that one’s the settin’ <span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>room and parlor; and them + two dry-goods boxes with doors to ’em are bedrooms. There’s + eight livin’ critters to stow away when it’s time to turn in, + and one whole bed’s took up by the patient. <i>Where</i> do they put + the rest? Hang ’em up on nails?” + </p> + <p> + The nurse laughed. “Goodness knows!” she said. “He + should have been taken to the hospital. In fact, the doctor and I at first + insisted upon his removal there. He would have been much better off. But + neither he nor his wife would hear of it. She said he would die sure + without his home comforts.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I should think more likely he’d die with ’em, or + under ’em. I watch that fleshy wife of his with fear and tremblin’. + Every time she goes nigh the bed I expect her to trip over a young one and + fall. And if she fell on that poor rack-o’-bones,” with a wave + of the hand toward the invalid, “’twould be the final smash—like + a brick chimney fallin’ on a lath hencoop.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment the “brick chimney” herself entered the rooms + and the nurse accosted her. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Warren here,” she said, “was asking where you + all found sleeping quarters.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Moriarty smiled broadly. “Sure, ’tis aisy,” she + explained. “When the ould man is laid up we’re all happy to be + a bit uncomfortable. Not that we are, neither. You see, sor, me and Nora + and Rosy sleep in the other bed; and Dinnie has a bit of a shakedown in + the parlor; and Honora is in the kitchen; and—” + </p> + <p> + “There! there!” Captain Elisha interrupted hastily, “don’t + tell me any more. I’d rather <i>guess</i> that the baby bunks in the + cookstove oven than know it for sartin. How did the grapes I sent you go?” + turning to the sick man. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, sor! they were foine. God bless you, sor!<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> Mary be kind to you, + sor! Sure the angels’ll watch over you every day you live and + breathe!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha bolted for the parlor, the sufferer firing a gatling + fusillade of blessings after him. Mrs. Moriarty continued the bombardment, + as she escorted him to the door of the flat. + </p> + <p> + “There! there!” protested the captain. “Just belay! cut + it short, there’s a good woman! I’ll admit I’m a saint + and would wear a halo instead of a hat if ’twa’n’t so + unfashionable. Good day. If you need anything you ain’t got, tell + the nurse.” + </p> + <p> + The grateful Irish woman did not intend to let him escape so easily. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, sor,” she went on, “it’s all right for you to + make fun. I’m the jokin’ kind, sor, meself. Whin the flats + where we used to be got afire and Pat had to lug me down the fire escape + in his arms, they tell me I was laughin’ fit to kill; that is, when + I wasn’t screechin’ for fear he’d drop me. And him, poor + soul, never seein’ the joke, but puffin’ and groanin’ + that his back was in two pieces. Ha, ha! Oh, dear! And him in two pieces + now for sure and all! Aw, sor, it’s all right for you to laugh it + off, but what would we do without you? You and Miss Caroline, God bless + her!” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline? She doesn’t come here, does she?” + </p> + <p> + “Indade she does. Sure, she’s the perfect little lady! Hardly + a day passes—or a week, anyhow—that she doesn’t drop in + to see how the ould man’s gettin’ on.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, see that you don’t tell her about me.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Moriarty held up both hands in righteous protestation. <i>She</i> + tell? Might the tongue of her wither between her teeth before it let slip + a word, and so on. Captain Elisha waved her to silence. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> + “All right! all right!” he exclaimed. “So long! Take + good care of your husband, and, and—for Heaven’s sake, walk + careful and don’t step on any of the children.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Moriarty’s tongue did not wither; at all events, it was lively + enough when he next met her. The captain’s secret was not divulged, + and he continued his visits to the flat, taking care, however, to + ascertain his niece’s whereabouts beforehand. It was not altogether + a desire to avoid making his charitable deeds public which influenced him. + He had a habit of not letting his right hand know what his left was about + in such cases, and he detested a Pharisaical philanthropist. But there was + another reason why Caroline must not learn of his interest in the + Moriartys. If she did learn it, she would believe him to be helping them + on his own responsibility; or, if not, that he was using money belonging + to the estate. Of course he would, and honestly must, deny the latter + charge, and, therefore, the first would, to her mind, be proven. He + intended that Malcolm Dunn should pay the larger share of the bills, as + was right and proper. But he could not tell Caroline that, because she + must not know of the young man’s responsibility for the accident. He + could not give Malcolm the credit, and he felt that he ought not to take + it himself. It was a delicate situation. + </p> + <p> + He was lonely, and the days seemed long. Reading the paper, walking in the + park, occasionally dropping in at the lawyers’ offices, or visiting + the shops and other places of interest about town made up the monotonous + routine. He breakfasted early, waited upon by Edwards, got lunch at the + restaurant nearest to wherever he happened to be at noon, and returned to + the apartment for dinner. His niece and nephew dined with him, but<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> when + he attempted conversation they answered in monosyllables or not at all. + Every evening he wrote a letter to Abbie, and the mail each morning + brought him one from her. The Dunns came frequently and seemed disposed to + be friendly, but he kept out of their way as much as possible. + </p> + <p> + Pearson he had not seen since the latter’s call. This was a + disappointment, for he fancied the young fellow and believed he should + like him even better on closer acquaintance. He would have returned the + visit, but somehow or other the card with the boarding-house street and + number had been lost or mislaid, and the long list of “James + Pearsons” in the directory discouraged him. He speculated much + concerning the mystery at which the would-be novelist hinted as preventing + his accepting Caroline’s invitation. Evidently Pearson had once + known Rodgers Warren well, and had been esteemed and respected by the + latter. Caroline, too, had known him, and was frankly pleased to meet him + again. Whatever the trouble might be, she, evidently, was ignorant of it. + The captain wondered and pondered, but reached no satisfactory conclusion. + It seemed the irony of fate that the one congenial person—Sylvester + excepted—whom he had met during his stay in the big city should be + scratched from his small list of acquaintances. + </p> + <p> + With Sylvester he held many familiar and enjoyable chats. The + good-natured, democratic senior member of the law firm liked to have + Captain Elisha drop in for advice or to spin yarns. Graves, who was well + again, regarded the new guardian with respect of a kind, but with distinct + disapproval. The captain was, in his opinion, altogether too flippant and + jolly. There was nothing humorous in the situation, as Graves saw it, and + to laugh when one’s brother’s estate is in a tangle, indicated + unfitness,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> + if nothing worse. Kuhn was a sharp, quick-moving man, who had no time for + frivolity if it delayed business. + </p> + <p> + It was after a long interview with Sylvester that Captain Elisha decided + to send Stephen back to college. When he broke the news there was + rebellion, brief but lively. Stephen had no desire to continue his + studies; he wished to become a stock broker at once, and, as soon as he + was of age, take his father’s seat on the Exchange. + </p> + <p> + “Stevie,” said Captain Elisha, “one of these days, when + you get to be as old as I am or before, you’ll realize that an + education is worth somethin’.” + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” grunted the boy, in supreme disgust. “What do you + know about that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, not much, maybe, but enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” sarcastically. “What college did you attend?” + </p> + <p> + “Me? Why, none, more’s the pity. What learnin’ there was + in our family your dad had. Maybe that’s why he was what he was, so + fur as money and position and society and so on went, and I’m what + <i>I</i> am.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, rubbish! What difference does it make to Malcolm Dunn—now—his + going through college?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he went, didn’t he?” + </p> + <p> + Stephen grinned. Malcolm had told him some particulars concerning his + university career and its termination. + </p> + <p> + “He went—part way,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Ya-as. Well, you’ve gone part way, so fur. And now you’ll + go the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to know why.” + </p> + <p> + “For one reason, because I’m your guardian and I say so.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> + Stephen was furiously angry. His father’s indulgence and his sister’s + tolerance had, in most cases, made his will law in the household. To be + ordered about in this way by an ignorant interloper, as he considered his + uncle, was too much. + </p> + <p> + “By gad,” he shouted, “we’ll see!” + </p> + <p> + “No, we’ve seen. You run along now and pack your trunk. And + take my advice and study hard. You’ll be behindhand in your work, so + Mr. Sylvester tells me, but you’re smart, and you can catch up. Make + us proud of you; that’s what you can do.” + </p> + <p> + His nephew glanced at him. Captain Elisha was smiling kindly, but there + was no sign of change of purpose in his look. + </p> + <p> + Stephen ground his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” he snarled, “if it wasn’t for the disgrace! + If things weren’t as they are, I’d—” + </p> + <p> + “S-s-s-h! I know; but they are. Maybe I wish they wa’n’t + ’most as much as you do, but they are. I don’t blame you for + feelin’ mad now; but I’m right and I know it. And some day you’ll + know it, and thank me.” + </p> + <p> + “When I do, I’ll be insane.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you’ll be older, that’s all. Now pack your trunk—or + get the Commodore to pack it for you.” + </p> + <hr class="medium" /> + <p> + News from the Moriarty sick room continued favorable for a time. Then, + with alarming suddenness, a change came. The broken hip was mending + slowly, but poor Pat’s age was against him, and the shock and long + illness were too much for his system to fight. Dr. Henry shook his head + dubiously when the captain asked questions. And, one morning at breakfast, + Edwards informed him that the old man was dead. Annie had <span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>been + summoned by telephone at midnight and had gone home. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha, though not greatly surprised, was shocked and grieved. It + seemed such a needless tragedy, almost like murder, although there was no + malice in it. And the thought of the fatherless children and the poverty + of the stricken family made him shudder. Death at any time, amid any + surroundings, is terrible; when the dead hands have earned the bread for + many mouths it is appalling. + </p> + <p> + The captain dreaded visiting the flat, but because he felt it to be a duty + he went immediately. And the misery and wailing and dismay he found there + were worse than his anticipations. He did his best to comfort and cheer. + Mrs. Moriarty alternately called upon the saints to bless him and begged + to know what she would do now that they were all sure to starve. Luckily, + the family priest, a kind-hearted, quiet man who faced similar scenes + almost every day of his life, was there, and Captain Elisha had a long + talk with him. With Dennis, the oldest son, and Annie, the maid at the + Warrens’, he also consulted. Money for their immediate needs, he + told them, he would provide. And the funeral expenses must not worry them. + Afterward—well, plans for the future could be discussed at another + time. But upon Dennis and Annie he tried to impress a sense of their + responsibility. + </p> + <p> + “It’s up to you, Boy,” he said to the former. “Annie’s + job’s sure, I guess, as long as she wants it, and she can give her + mother somethin’ every month. But you’re the man of the house + now, and you’ve got to steer the ship and keep it afloat. That means + work, and hard work, lots of it, too. You can do it, if you’ve got + the grit. If I can find a better place and more pay for you,<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> I + will, but you mustn’t depend on that. It’s up to you, I tell + you, and you’ve got to show what’s in you. If you get stuck + and need advice, come to me.” + </p> + <p> + He handed the priest a sum of money to cover immediate contingencies, and + departed. His letter to Abbie that afternoon was so blue that the + housekeeper felt sure he was “coming down” with some disease + or other. He had been riding in that awful subway, where the air—so + the papers said—was not fit to breathe, and just as like as not he’d + caught consumption. His great-uncle on his mother’s side died of it, + so it “run in the family.” Either he must come home or she + should come to him, one or the other. + </p> + <p> + But before evening his blueness had disappeared. He had just returned to + his room, after stepping into the hall to drop his letter in the mail + chute, when his niece knocked at the door. He was surprised to see her, + for she had not spoken to him, except in brief reply to questions, since + their misunderstanding in that very room. He looked at her wonderingly, + not knowing what to say or what to expect; but she spoke first. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Warren,” she began, hurriedly, “the last time I + came to you—the last time I came here, I came to ask a favor, and + you—I thought you—” + </p> + <p> + She was evidently embarrassed and confused. Her guardian was embarrassed, + also, but he tried to be hospitable. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Caroline,” he said, gravely, “I know what you + mean. Won’t you—won’t you sit down?” + </p> + <p> + To his surprise, she accepted the invitation, taking the same chair she + had taken on the occasion of their former interview. But there was a look + in her eyes he had never seen there before; at least, not when she was + addressing him. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> + She went on, speaking hastily, as though determined to head off any + questioning on his part. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Warren,” she began once more, “the time I came + to you in this room you were, so I thought, unreasonable and unkind. I + asked you for money to help a poor family in trouble, and you refused to + give it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Caroline,” he interrupted, “I didn’t refuse, + you only thought I did.” + </p> + <p> + She held up her hand. “Please let me go on,” she begged. + “I thought you refused, and I couldn’t understand why. I was + hurt and angry. I knew that father never would have refused me under such + circumstances, and you were his brother. But since then, only to-day, I + have learned that I was wrong. I have learned—” + </p> + <p> + She paused. The captain was silent. He was beginning to hope, to believe + once more in his judgment of character; and yet, with his hope and growing + joy, there was a trifle of anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “I have learned,” went on his niece, “that I was + mistaken. I can’t understand yet why you wished to wait before + saying yes, but I do know that it must have been neither because you were + unkind nor ungenerous. I have just come from those poor people, and they + have told me everything.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha started. “What did they tell you?” he asked, + quickly. “Who told you?” + </p> + <p> + “Annie and her mother. They told me what you had done and were doing + for them. How kind you had been all through the illness and to-day. Oh, I + know you made them promise not to tell me; and you made the doctor and + nurse promise, too. But I knew <i>someone</i> had helped, and Annie + dropped a hint. Then I suspected, and now I know. Those poor people!” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>The + captain, who had been looking at the floor, and frowning a bit, suddenly + glanced up to find his niece’s eyes fixed upon him, and they were + filled with tears. + </p> + <p> + “Will you forgive me?” she asked, rising from her chair, and + coming impulsively toward him. “I’m sorry I misjudged you and + treated you so. You must be a very good man. Please forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + He took her hand, which was swallowed up in his big one. His eyes were + moist, also. + </p> + <p> + “Lord love you, dearie,” he said, “there’s nothin’ + to forgive. I realized that I must have seemed like a mean, stingy old + scamp. Yet I didn’t mean to be. I only wanted to look into this + thing just a little. Just as a matter of business, you know. And I.... + Caroline, did that doctor tell you anything more?” + </p> + <p> + “Any more?” she repeated in bewilderment. “He told me + that you were the kindest man he had ever seen.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. Well, maybe his eyesight’s poor. What I mean is did + he tell you anything about anybody else bein’ in this with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Anybody else? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin’, nothin’. I joked with him a spell ago + about a wealthy relation of the Moriarty tribe turnin’ up. ’Twas + only a joke, of course. And yet, Caroline, I—I think I’d ought + to say—” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. What could he say? Even a hint might lead to embarrassing + questions and he had promised Dunn. + </p> + <p> + “What ought you to say?” asked his niece. + </p> + <p> + “Why, nothin’, I guess. I’m glad you understand matters + a little better and I don’t intend for the estate nor you to pay + these Moriarty bills. Just get ’em off your mind. Forget ’em. + I’ll see that everything’s attended<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> to. And, later on, if + you and me can, by puttin’ our heads together, help those folks to + earnin’ a better livin’, why, we will, hey?” + </p> + <p> + The girl smiled up at him. “I think,” she said, “that + you must be one who likes to hide his light under a bushel.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess likely a two-quart measure’d be plenty big enough to + hide mine. There! there! We won’t have any more misunderstandin’s, + will we? I’m a pretty green vegetable and about as out of place here + as a lobster in a balloon, but, as I said to you and Steve once before, if + you’ll just remember I <i>am</i> green and sort of rough, and maybe + make allowances accordin’, this cruise of ours may not be so + unpleasant. Now you run along and get ready for dinner, or the Commodore’ll + petrify from standin’ so long behind your chair.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed, as she turned to go. “I should hate to have him do + that,” she said. “He would make a depressing statue. I shall + see you again in a few minutes, at dinner. Thank you—Uncle.” + </p> + <p> + She left Captain Elisha in a curious state of mind. Against his will he + had been forced to accept thanks and credit which, he believed, did not + rightfully belong to him. It was the only thing to do, and yet it seemed + almost like disloyalty to Malcolm Dunn. This troubled him, but the trouble + was, just then, a mere pinhead of blackness against the radiance of his + spirit. + </p> + <p> + His brother’s daughter had, for the first time, called him uncle. + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER X + </h3> + <p style="float: left; font-size: 100%; line-height: 80%; margin-top: 0;"> + “ + </p> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">C</span>aptain + Warren,” asked Caroline, as they were seated at the breakfast table + next morning, “what are your plans for to-day?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha put down his coffee cup and pulled his beard reflectively. + Contrary to his usual desire since he came to the apartment to live, he + was in no hurry to finish the meal. This breakfast and the dinner of the + previous evening had been really pleasant. He had enjoyed them. His niece + had not called him uncle again, it is true, and perhaps that was too much + to be expected as yet, but she was cheerful and even familiar. They talked + as they ate, and he had not been made to feel that he was the death’s + head at the feast. The change was marked and very welcome. The bright + winter sunshine streaming through the window indicated that the conditions + outside were also just what they should be. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he replied, with a smile, “I don’t know, + Caroline, as I’ve made any definite plans. Let’s see, to-day’s + Sunday, ain’t it? Last letter I got from Abbie she sailed into me + because, as she said, I seemed to have been ’most everywheres except + to meetin’. She figgers New York’s a heathen place, anyhow, + and she cal’lates I’m gettin’ to be a backslider like + the rest. I didn’t know but I might go to church.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline nodded. “I wondered if you wouldn’t like to go,” + she said. “I am going, and I thought perhaps you would go with me.” + </p> + <p> + Her uncle had again raised his cup to his lips. Now<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> he set it down with a + suddenness which caused the statuesque Edwards to bend forward in + anticipation of a smash. The captain started to speak, thought better of + it, and stared at his niece so intently that she colored and dropped her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” she faltered, “that I haven’t asked you + before, but—but—” then, with the impulsiveness which was + one of her characteristics, and to her guardian her great charm, she + looked him full in the face and added, “but I hoped you would + understand that—that <i>I</i> understood a little better. I should + like to have your company very much.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Caroline,” he answered. “I appreciate your + askin’ me, I sartinly do. And I’d rather go with you than + anybody else on earth. But I was cal’latin’ to hunt up some + little round-the-corner chapel, or Bethel, where I’d feel a little + bit at home. I guess likely your church is a pretty big one, ain’t + it?” + </p> + <p> + “We attend Saint Denis. It <i>is</i> a large church, but we have + always been connected with it. Stephen and I were christened there. But, + of course, if you had rather go somewhere else—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! I hadn’t anywhere in particular to go. I’m a + Congregationalist to home, but Abbie says I’ve spread my creed so + wide that it ain’t more’n an inch deep anywhere, and she + shouldn’t think ’twould keep me afloat. I tell her I’d + rather navigate a broad and shallow channel, where everybody stands by to + keep his neighbor off the shoals, than I would a narrow and crooked one + with self-righteousness off both beams and perdition underneath. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he added, reflectively, “the way I look at + it, it’s a pretty uncertain cruise at the best. Course<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> there’s + all sorts of charts, and every fleet is sartin it’s got the only + right one. But I don’t know. We’re afloat—that much we + are sure of—but the port we left and the harbor we’re bound + for, they’re always out of sight in the fog astern and ahead. I know + lots of folks who claim to see the harbor, and see it plain; but they don’t + exactly agree as to what they see. As for me, I’ve come to the + conclusion that we must steer as straight a course as we can, and when we + meet a craft in distress, why, do our best to help her. The rest of it I + guess we must leave to the Owner, to the One that launched us. I.... Good + land!” he exclaimed, coming out of his meditation with a start, + “I’m preachin’ a sermon ahead of time. And the Commodore’s + goin’ to sleep over it, I do believe.” + </p> + <p> + The butler, who had been staring vacantly out of the window during the + captain’s soliloquy, straightened at the sound of his nickname, and + asked hastily, “Yes, sir? What will you have, sir?” Captain + Elisha laughed in huge enjoyment, and his niece joined him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, “will you go with me?” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to fust-rate—if you won’t be too much + ashamed of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it’s settled, isn’t it? The service begins at a + quarter to eleven. We will leave here at half-past ten.” + </p> + <p> + The captain shaved with extra care that morning, donned spotless linen, + including a “stand-up” collar—which he detested—brushed + his frock-coat and his hair with great particularity, and gave Edwards his + shoes to clean. He would have shined them himself, as he always did at + home, but on a former occasion when he asked for the “blackin’ + kit,” the butler’s shocked and pained expression led to + questions and consequent enlightenment. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>He + was ready by a quarter after ten, but when his niece knocked at his door + she bore a message which surprised and troubled him. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Dunn called,” she said, “to ask me to go to church + with her. I told her I had invited you to accompany me. Would you mind if + she joined us?” + </p> + <p> + Her guardian hesitated. “I guess,” he answered, slowly, + “it ain’t so much a question of my mindin’ her as she + mindin’ me. Does <i>she</i> want me to go along?” + </p> + <p> + “She said she should be delighted.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to know! Now, Caroline, don’t you think I’d be + sort of in the way? Don’t you believe she’d manage to live + down her disappointment if I didn’t tag on? You mustn’t feel + that you’ve got to be bothered with me because you suggested my goin’, + you know.” + </p> + <p> + “If I had considered it a bother I should not have invited you. If + you don’t wish Mrs. Dunn’s company, then you and I will go + alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, land sakes! I wouldn’t have you do that for the world! + All right, I’ll be out in a jiffy.” + </p> + <p> + He gave his hair a final brush, straightened his tie, turned around once + more before the mirror, and walked fearfully forth to meet the visitor. + For him, the anticipated pleasure of the forenoon had been replaced by + uneasy foreboding. + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Corcoran Dunn, as she rose creakingly to greet him, was extremely + gracious. She was gowned and furred and hatted in a manner which caused + the captain to make hasty mental estimate as to cost, but she extended a + plump hand, buttoned in a very tight glove, and murmured her + gratification. + </p> + <p> + “I’m so glad you are to accompany us, Captain Warren,” + she gushed. “It is a charming winter morning, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>Captain + Elisha touched the plump glove with his own big finger tips, and admitted + that the morning was “fust-rate.” He was relieved from the + embarrassment of further conversation just then by Caroline’s + appearance in the library. She, too, was richly dressed. + </p> + <p> + “Are we all ready?” she asked, brightly. “Then we may as + well start.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid we’re a trifle early, my dear,” said + Mrs. Dunn, “but we can stroll about a bit before we go in.” + </p> + <p> + The captain looked at the library clock. The time was a quarter to eleven. + </p> + <p> + “Early?” he exclaimed, involuntarily. “Why, I thought + Caroline said—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, suddenly, realizing that he had spoken aloud. His niece + divined his thought and laughed merrily. + </p> + <p> + “The service does begin now,” she said, “but no one is + ever on time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” ejaculated her uncle, and did not speak again until they + were at the door of the church. Then Caroline asked him what he was + thinking. + </p> + <p> + “Nothin’ much,” he answered, gazing at the fashionably + garbed throng pouring under the carved stone arch of the entrance; “I + was just reorganizin’ my ideas, that’s all. I’ve always + sort of thought a plug hat looked lonesome. Now I’ve decided that I’m + wearin’ the lonesome kind.” + </p> + <p> + He marched behind his niece and Mrs. Dunn up the center aisle to the + Warren pew. He wrote his housekeeper afterwards that he estimated that + aisle to be “upwards of two mile long. And my Sunday shoes had a + separate squeak for every inch,” he added. + </p> + <p> + Once seated, however, and no longer so conspicuous, his common sense and + Yankee independence came to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" + id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> rescue. He had been in much bigger + churches than this one, while abroad during his seagoing years. He knew + that his clothes were not fashionably cut, and that, to the people about + him, he must appear odd and, perhaps, even ridiculous. But he remembered + how odd certain city people appeared while summering at South Denboro. + Recollections of pointed comments made by boatmen who had taken these + summer sojourners on fishing excursions came to his mind. Well, he had one + advantage over such people, at any rate, he knew when he was ridiculous, + and they apparently did not. + </p> + <p> + So, saved from humiliation by his sense of humor, he looked about him with + interest. When the procession of choir boys came up the aisle, and Mrs. + Dunn explained in a condescending whisper what they were, his answer + surprised her a trifle. “Yes,” whispered the captain in reply, + “I know. I’ve seen the choir in Saint Peter’s at Rome.” + </p> + <p> + Only once did he appear greatly astonished. That was when the offering was + taken and a certain dignified magnate, whose fame as a king of finance is + world-wide, officiated as one of the collectors. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens and earth!” murmured Captain Elisha, staring + wide-eyed at the unmistakable features so often pictured and cartooned in + the daily papers; “Caroline—Caroline, am I seein’ things + or is that—is that—” + </p> + <p> + “That is Mr. ——,” whispered his niece. “He + is one of the vestrymen here.” + </p> + <p> + “My soul!” still gazing after the Emperor of Wall Street; + “<i>him</i> passin’ the plate! Well,” with a grim smile, + “whoever picked him out for the job has got judgment. If <i>he</i> + can’t make a body shell out, nobody can.” + </p> + <p> + He listened to the sermon, the text of which was from<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> the Beatitudes, with + outward solemnity, but with a twinkle in his eye. After the benediction, + when Caroline asked how he enjoyed it, the cause of the twinkle became + apparent. + </p> + <p> + “Fine!” he declared, with enthusiasm. “He’s a + smart preacher, ain’t he! And he knew his congregation. You might + not guess they was meek perhaps, but they certainly did look as if they’d + inherited the earth.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a breath of relief as the trio emerged into the open air. He had + enjoyed the novel experience, in a way, but now he felt rather like one + let out of jail. The quiet luncheon at home with Caroline was a pleasant + anticipation. + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Corcoran Dunn smashed his anticipation at a blow. She insisted + that he and his niece lunch with her. + </p> + <p> + “You really must, you know,” she declared. “It will be + delightful. Just a little family party.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha looked distressed. “Thank you, ma’am,” he + stammered; “it’s awful kind of you, but I wouldn’t feel + right to go puttin’ you to all that trouble. Just as much obliged, + but I—I’ve got a letter to write, you see.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn bore his refusal bravely. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” she said, “but Caroline <i>must</i> come + with me. I told Malcolm I should bring her.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! Sartin! Caroline can go, of course.” + </p> + <p> + But Caroline also declined. Having misjudged her guardian in the matter of + the Moriarty family, she was in a repentant mood, and had marked that day + on her calendar as one of self-sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + “No, Captain Warren,” she said, “I shall not go unless + you do.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>“Then + the captain will come, of course,” declared Mrs. Dunn, with + decision. “I’m sure he will not be so selfish as to deprive me—and + Malcolm—of your company.” + </p> + <p> + So, because he did not wish to appear selfish, Captain Elisha admitted + that his letter might be written later in the afternoon, accepted the + invitation, and braced his spirit for further martyrdom. + </p> + <p> + It was not as bad as he expected. The Dunns occupied a small, brown-stone + house on Fifth Avenue, somewhat old-fashioned, but eminently respectable. + The paintings and bronzes were as numerous as those in the Warren + apartment, and if the taste shown in their selection was not that of + Rodgers Warren, the connoisseur, they made quite as much show, and the + effect upon Captain Elisha was the same. The various mortgages on the + property were not visible, and the tradesmen’s bills were securely + locked in Mrs. Dunn’s desk. + </p> + <p> + The luncheon itself was elaborate, and there was a butler whose majestic + dignity and importance made even Edwards seem plebeian by comparison. + </p> + <p> + Malcolm was at home when they arrived, irreproachably dressed and + languidly non-effusive, as usual. Captain Elisha, as he often said, did + not “set much store” by clothes; but there was something about + this young man which always made him conscious that his own trousers were + a little too short, or his boots too heavy, or something. “I wouldn’t + <i>wear</i> a necktie like his,” he wrote Abbie, after his first + meeting with Malcolm, “but blessed if I don’t wish I could <i>if</i> + I would!” + </p> + <p> + Caroline, in the course of conversation during the luncheon, mentioned the + Moriartys and their sorrow. The captain tried to head her off and to + change the subject, but with little success. He was uncomfortable and<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> kept + glancing under his brows at Malcolm, with whom, under the circumstances, + he could not help sympathizing to an extent. But his sympathy was wasted. + The young man did not appear in the slightest degree nervous. The memory + of his recent interview with Captain Elisha did not embarrass him, + outwardly at least, half as much as it did the captain. He declared that + old Pat’s death was beastly hard luck, but accidents were bound to + happen. It was a shame, and all that. “If there’s anything the + mater and I can do, Caroline, call on us, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, do, Caroline,” concurred his mother. “However, one + must be philosophic in such cases. It is a mercy that people in their + station do not feel grief and loss as we do. Providence, in its wisdom, + has limited their susceptibilities as it has their intelligence. Don’t + you agree with me, Captain Warren?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin!” was the prompt reply. “It’s always a + comfort to me, when I go fishin’, to know that the fish ain’t + got so much brains as I have. The hook hurts, I presume likely, but they + ain’t got the sense to realize what a mean trick’s been played + on ’em. The one that’s caught’s dead, and them that are + left are too busy hustlin’ for the next meal to waste much time + grievin’. That eases my conscience consider’ble.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline seemed to be the only one who appreciated the sarcasm in this + observation. She frowned slightly. Mrs. Corcoran Dunn tolerantly smiled, + and her son laughed aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Admiral,” he commented, “when it comes to + philosophy you go some yourself, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. I can be as philosophical about other folk’s troubles + as anybody I ever see.” Then, with an involuntary chuckle of + admiration at the young gentleman’s<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> coolness, he added, + “That is, anybody I ever see afore I come to New York.” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again. The captain, + noticing his change of purpose and following the direction of his look, + saw Mrs. Dunn shake her head in sharp disapproval. He ate the remainder of + his salad in silence, but he thought a good deal. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Mrs. Dunn, rising and leading the way to the + drawing-room, “we must all go for a motor ride. Everyone rides on + Sunday afternoon,” she explained, turning to her male guest. + </p> + <p> + The distressed look returned to Captain Elisha’s face. His niece saw + it, understood, and came to his rescue. + </p> + <p> + “I think Captain Warren prefers to be excused,” she said, + smiling. “He has a prejudice against automobiles.” + </p> + <p> + “No!” drawled Malcolm, the irrepressible. “Not really? + Admiral, I’m surprised! In these days, you know!” + </p> + <p> + “It ain’t so much the automobiles,” snapped Captain + Elisha, irritation getting the better of his discretion, “as ’tis + the devilish fools that—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes? Oh, all right, Mater.” + </p> + <p> + “That are careless enough to get in the way of them,” finished + the captain, with surprising presence of mind. “Still, if Caroline + wants to go—” + </p> + <p> + “I have it!” exclaimed Mrs. Dunn. “The young people + shall go, and the others remain at home. Malcolm shall take you for a + spin, Caroline, and Captain Warren and I will stay here and wait until you + return. We’ll have a family chat, Captain, won’t we? Because,” + with a gay laugh, “in a way we <i>are</i> like one family, you see.” + </p> + <p> + And, somewhat to Miss Warren’s surprise, her uncle<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> + agreed to this proposition. He did not answer immediately, but, when he + did, it was with heartiness. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” he said, “that’s a good idea. That’s + fust-rate. You young folks go, and Mrs. Dunn and I’ll wait here till + you come back. That’s the way of the world—young folks on the + go, and the old folks at home by the fire, hey, Mrs. Dunn?” + </p> + <p> + The lady addressed did not relish being numbered with “old folks,” + but she smiled sweetly, and said she supposed it was. Malcolm telephoned + to the garage and to Edwards at the Warren apartment, ordering the butler + to deliver his mistress’s auto cap and cloak to the chauffeur, who + would call for them. A few minutes later the yellow car rolled up to the + door. + </p> + <p> + In the hall Mrs. Dunn whispered a reassuring word to her departing guest. + </p> + <p> + “Now enjoy yourself, dear,” she whispered. “Have a nice + ride and don’t worry about me. If he—if our encumbrance bores + me too much I shall—well, I shall plead a headache and leave him to + his own devices. Besides, he isn’t so <i>very</i> dreadful, is he?” + </p> + <p> + Caroline shook her head. “No,” she answered, “he is a + good man. I understand him better than I did and—yes, I like him + better, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!... Indeed! Well, good-by, dear. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + The yellow car roared as the chauffeur cranked it, then moved off up the + crowded avenue. Mrs. Dunn watched it until it was out of sight. Her brows + were drawn together, and she seemed puzzled and just a bit disconcerted. + However, when she returned to the drawing-room, her gracious smile had + returned, and her bland condescension was again in evidence. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha had been standing by the window.<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> She begged him to be + seated. He thanked her, but looked dubiously at the Louis XVI chair + indicated. She noticed the look. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we go into the library,” she said. “It is much + less formal. And there is a fire—for us <i>old</i> folks,” + with a slight accent on the word. + </p> + <p> + The library was more homelike. Not as many books as at the Warrens’, + but a great deal of gilt in the bindings and much carving on the cases. + The fire was cheery, and the pair sat down before it in big easy chairs. + Mrs. Dunn looked intently at the glowing coals. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha cleared his throat. Mrs. Dunn leaned forward expectantly. + The captain coughed and sank back in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” purred the lady. “You were about to say?” + </p> + <p> + “Me? Oh, no, I didn’t say anything.” + </p> + <p> + Another period of silence. Mrs. Dunn’s foot tapped the rug + impatiently. She wished him to begin the conversation, and he would not. + At length, in desperation, she began it herself. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you find New York rather different from—er—North—er—” + </p> + <p> + “From South Denboro? Yes, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you like the city life?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t know, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Not as well as you do that of the country, doubtless.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, I ain’t had so much of it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, of course not. It does so depend upon what one is accustomed + to. Now I fancy I should be perfectly desperate in your village.” + </p> + <p> + One corner of Captain Elisha’s mouth curled upward. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t be surprised,” he admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Desperately lonely, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>“Yes’m. + I judged that was what you meant. Still, folks can be lonesome in New + York.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps. But really I don’t see how. With all the whirl and + the crowds and the glorious excitement. The feeling that one is at the + very heart, the center of everything!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. If you belong to the machinery, I s’pose it’s all + right. But if you’ve been leanin’ over the rail, lookin’ + on, and get pushed in unexpected, maybe you don’t care so much about + bein’ nigh the center.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why stay there? Why not get out?” + </p> + <p> + “If you’re caught in the wheels, gettin’ out’s + somethin’ of a job.” + </p> + <p> + “But, as I understand it, Captain Warren—I may be misinformed, + for, of course, I haven’t been unduly curious concerning your family + affairs—as <i>I</i> understand it, you were not obliged to remain + among the—among the wheels, as you call them. You could have gotten + out quite easily, couldn’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “I presume likely I could. But, you see, ma’am, I had a feelin’ + that I’d ought to stay.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn laughed lightly. “Ah me!” she exclaimed; “you + felt it your duty, I suppose. Oh, you New England Puritans!” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head in playful mockery. Then she added, “But, at all + events, it cannot be so very disagreeable—now. I have no doubt it + was—well, not comfortable for you at first. Steve and Caroline were + quite impossible—really quite furious. Your sudden appearance in the + capacity of guardian was too much for them. They were sure you must be a + perfect ogre, Captain. I had to use all my eloquence to convince them they + would not be devoured alive. But now—what a change! Why, already + Caroline accepts you as—well,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" + id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> almost like an old friend, like myself. + In the last few days this change in her attitude is quite marked. What <i>have</i> + you done? Are you a wizard? Do tell me!” + </p> + <p> + This appeal, delivered with eloquence and most engaging play of brow and + eye, should have been irresistible. Unfortunately the captain did not + appear to have heard it. Leaning forward, his hands clasped between his + knees, he was gazing into the fire. And when he spoke, it was as if he + were thinking aloud. + </p> + <p> + “I s’pose ’tis a sort of disease, this duty business,” + he mused. “And most diseases ain’t cheerful visitations. Still + a feller ought not to growl about it in public. I always did hate for a + man to be goin’ about forever complainin’ of his sufferin’s—whether + they was from duty or rheumatiz.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn’s lips snapped shut. She pressed them together + impatiently. Evidently her questions, and their diplomatic prelude, had + been unheard and wasted. However, she did not intend to be sidetracked or + discouraged. + </p> + <p> + “One should not prate of one’s duty, of course,” she + agreed. “Not that you do—far from it. But, as I was saying, + our dear Caroline has—” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, ma’am. I hope I don’t groan too loud. Do you + know, I believe climate has a bearin’ on duty, same as it has on + rheumatics. I s’pose you city folks”—and there was + almost contempt in the words—“are sort of Christian Science, + and figger it’s an ‘error’—hey? Somethin’ to + be forgot.” + </p> + <p> + The lady resented the interruption, and the contempt nettled her. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all!” she retorted. “We city dwellers have our + duties, also.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that a fact? I want to know!” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>“Certainly + it is a fact,” tartly. “I have my duties and many of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Um! So? Well, I s’pose you do feel you must dress just so, + and live just so, and do just such and such things. If you call those + duties, why—” + </p> + <p> + “I do. What else are they, pray?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn was finding it difficult to keep her temper. To be catechised in + this contemptuously lofty manner by one to whom she considered herself so + immensely superior, was too much. She forgot the careful plan of campaign + which she had intended to follow in this interview, and now interrupted in + her turn. And Captain Elisha, who also was something of a strategist, + smiled at the fire. + </p> + <p> + “We do have our social duties, our duties to society,” snapped + the widow, hotly. “They are necessary ones. Having been born—or + risen to—a certain circle, we recognize the responsibilities + attached to it. We <i>are</i> careful with whom we associate; we have to + be. As for dress, we dress as others of our friends do.” + </p> + <p> + “And maybe a little better, if you can, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “If we can—yes. I presume—” with crushing irony—“dress + in South Denboro counts but little.” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t say that if you ever went to sewin’ + circle,” with a chuckle. “Still, compared to the folks at your + meetin’-house this morning, our congregation would look like a flock + of blackbirds alongside of a cage full of Birds of Paradise. But most of + us—the women folks especial—dress as well as we can.” + </p> + <p> + “As well as you can!” triumphantly. “There! you see? And + you live as well as you can, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “If you mean style, why, we don’t set as much store by it as + you do.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! We are obliged to be,” with a slight<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> + shudder at the vulgarism, “<i>stylish</i>. If we should lapse, if we + should become shabby and behind the fashion or live in that way, people + would wonder and believe it was because we could not afford to do + otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, s’pose they did, you’d know better yourselves. + Can’t you be independent?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Not unless you are very, very rich; then it might be considered + an eccentricity. Independence is a costly luxury, and few can afford it.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose you can’t afford the other thing?” + </p> + <p> + “Then we must pretend we can. Oh, you <i>don’t</i> understand! + So <i>much</i> depends upon a proper appearance. Everything depends upon + it—one’s future, one’s children’s future—everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” with the same irritating smile, “I should think + that might mean some plannin’. And plans, the best of ’em, are + likely to go wrong. You talk about the children in your—in what you + call your ‘circle.’ How can you plan what they’ll do? + You might when they was little, perhaps; but when they grow up it’s + different.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not. It <i>can’t</i> be! And, if they have been + properly reared and understand their responsibilities, they plan with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Land sakes! You mean—why, s’pose they take a notion to + get married? I’m an old bach, of course, but the average young girl + or feller is subject to that sort of ailment, ’cordin’ to the + records. S’pose one of your circle’s daughters gets to keepin’ + company with a chap who’s outside the ring? A promisin’, nice + boy enough, but poor, and a rank outsider? Mean to say she sha’n’t + marry him if she wants to.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly! That sort of marriage is never a happy one, unless, of + course, the girl is wealthy enough not to care. And even then it is not + advisable. All their customs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" + id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> and habits of thought are different. No! + Emphatically, no! And the girl, if she is sensible and well reared, as I + have said, will understand it is impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “My soul and body! Then you mean to tell me that she <i>must</i> + look out for some chap in her crowd? If she ain’t got but just + enough to keep inside the circle—this grand whirlamagig you’re + tellin’ me about—if she’s pretendin’ up to the + limit of her income or over, then it’s her duty, and her ma and pa’s + duty, to set her cap for a man who’s nigher the center pole in the + tent and go right after him? Do you tell me that? That’s a note, I + must say!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn’s foot beat a lively tattoo on the rug. “I don’t + know what you mean by a ‘note,’” she commented, with + majestic indignation. “I have not lived in South Denboro, and + perhaps my understanding of English is defective. But marriages among + cultivated people, <i>society</i> people, intelligent, ambitious people + are, or should be, the result of thought and planning. Others are + impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “How about this thing we read so much about in novels?—Love, I + believe they call it.” + </p> + <p> + “Love! Love is well enough, but it does not, of itself, pay for + proper clothes, or a proper establishment, or seats at the opera, or any + of the practical, necessary things of modern life. You can’t keep up + a presentable appearance on <i>love</i>! If I had a daughter who lacked + the brains to understand what I had taught her, that is, her duty as a + member of good society, and talked of making a love match, I would.... But + there! You can’t understand, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + She rose and shook the wrinkles from her gown. Captain Elisha straightened + in his chair. “Why, yes, ma’am,” he drawled, quietly; + “yes, ma’am, I guess I understand fust-rate.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>And + suddenly Mrs. Dunn also understood. Her face, which had grown almost too + red for one attached to a member of polite society, grew redder still. She + turned away and walked to the window. + </p> + <p> + “What nonsense we’ve been talking!” she said, after a + moment’s silence. “I don’t see what led us into this + silly discussion. Malcolm and your niece must be having a delightful ride. + I almost wish I had gone with them.” + </p> + <p> + She did wish it, devoutly. Captain Elisha still remained by the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Automobiles are great things for hustlin’ around in,” + he observed. “Pity they’re such dangerous playthings. Yet I s’pose + they’re one of the necessities of up-to-date folks, same as you + said, Mrs. Dunn.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” she asked coldly, “you don’t condemn + automobiles, Captain Warren? What would you—return to stage coaches?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a mite! But I was thinkin’ of that poor Moriarty man.” + </p> + <p> + “His death was due to an accident. And accidents,” she turned + and looked directly at him, “when they involve financial damages, + may be paid for.” + </p> + <p> + The captain nodded. “Yes,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And when arrangements for such payment is made, <i>honorable</i> + people—at least, in the circle of which you and I have been speaking—consider + the matter settled and do not refer to it again, either among themselves—or + elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded again. She did know; Malcolm, + evidently, had told her. “Yes, ma’am. That’s the way any + decent person would feel—and act—if such a thing happened—even + if they hailed from South Denboro.” + </p> + <p> + He pushed back his chair and stood up. She continued<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> to look him over, much + as if she were taking a mental inventory of his character, or revising an + old one. + </p> + <p> + “I hope,” she said, lightly, but with deliberation, “our + little argument and—er—slight disagreement concerning—er—duty + will not make us enemies, Captain Warren.” + </p> + <p> + “Enemies! Land sakes, no! I respect anybody’s havin’ + opinions and not bein’ afraid to give ’em. And I think I can + understand some of how you feel. Maybe if I was anchored here on Fifth + Avenue, same as you are, instead of bein’ blown in by an unexpected + no’theaster, I’d be feelin’ the same way. It’s all + accordin’, as I’ve said so often. Enemies? No, indeed!” + </p> + <p> + She laughed again. “I’m so glad!” she said. “Malcolm + declares he’d be quite afraid of me—as an enemy. He seems to + think I possess some mysterious and quite diabolical talent for making my + un-friends uncomfortable, and declares he would compromise rather than + fight me at any time. Of course it’s ridiculous—just one of + his jokes—and I’m really harmless and very much afraid. That’s + why I want you and me to be friends, Captain Warren.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” Captain Elisha nodded emphatically. “That’s + what I want, too.” + </p> + <p> + But that evening, immediately after his return to the apartment, when—Caroline + having gone to her own room to remove her wraps—he and the butler + were alone, he characteristically unburdened his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Warren, sir,” said Edwards, “a young gentleman left + a note here for you this afternoon. The elevator man gave it to me, sir. + It’s on your dressing table, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The captain’s answer had nothing whatever to do with the note. He + had been thinking of other things. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>“Commodore,” + he said, “I’ve got the answer.” + </p> + <p> + “To the note? Already, sir? I didn’t know you’d seen it.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain’t. I’ve got the answer to the conundrum. It’s + Mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Mother, sir? I—I don’t know what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I do. The answer’s Mother. Sonny don’t count, though he + may think he does. But Mother’s the whole team and the dog under the + wagon. And, Commodore, we’ve got to trot some if we want to keep + ahead of that team! Don’t you forget it!” + </p> + <p> + He went to his room, leaving the bewildered butler to retire to the + kitchen, where he informed the cook that the old man was off his head + worse than common to-night. + </p> + <p> + “Blessed if he don’t think he’s a trotting horse!” + said Edwards. + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XI + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span>he + note on the dining room table proved, to the captain’s delight, to + be from James Pearson. It was brief and to the point. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you come and see me?” wrote the young man. + “I’ve been expecting you, and you promised to come. Have you + forgotten my address? If so, here it is. I expect to be in all day + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The consequence of this was that eleven o’clock the next day found + Captain Elisha pulling the bell at a brick house in a long brick block on + a West Side street. The block had evidently been, in its time, the homes + of well-to-do people, but now it was rather dingy and gone to seed. Across + the street the first floors were, for the most part, small shops, and in + the windows above them doctors’ signs alternated with those of + modistes, manicure artists, and milliners. + </p> + <p> + The captain had come a roundabout way, stopping in at the Moriarty flat, + where he found Mrs. Moriarty in a curious state of woe and tearful pride. + “Oh, what will I do, sir?” she moaned. “When I think he’s + gone, it seems as if I’d die, too. But, thanks to you and Miss + Warren—Mary make it up to her!—my Pat’ll have the finest + funeral since the Guinny saloon man was buried. Ah, if he could have lived + to see it, he’d have died content!” + </p> + <p> + The pull at the boarding-house bell was answered by a rather slatternly + maid, who informed the visitor that she guessed Mr. Pearson was in; he + ’most always was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" + id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> around lunch time. So Captain Elisha + waited in a typical boarding-house parlor, before a grate with no fire in + it and surrounded by walnut and plush furniture, until Pearson himself + came hurrying downstairs. + </p> + <p> + “Say, you’re a brick, Captain Warren!” he declared, as + they shook hands. “I hoped you’d come to-day. Why haven’t + you before?” + </p> + <p> + The captain explained his having mislaid the address. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, was that it? Then I’m glad I reminded you. Rather a + cheeky thing to do, but I’ve been a reporter, and nerve is necessary + in that profession. I began to be afraid living among the blue-bloods had + had its effect, and you were getting finicky as to your acquaintances.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t believe any such thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t I? Well, perhaps I didn’t. Come up to my room. I + think we can just about squeeze in, if you don’t mind sitting close.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson’s room was on the third flight, at the front of the house. + Through the window one saw the upper half of the buildings opposite, and + above them a stretch of sky. The bed was a small brass and iron affair, + but the rest of the furniture was of good quality, the chairs were easy + and comfortable, and the walls were thickly hung with photographs, framed + drawings, and prints. + </p> + <p> + “I put those up to cover the wall paper,” explained the host. + “I don’t offer them as an art collection, but as a screen. Sit + down. Put your coat on the bed. Shall I close the window? I usually keep + the upper half open to let out the pipe smoke. Otherwise I might not be + able to navigate without fog signals.” + </p> + <p> + His visitor chuckled, followed directions with his coat and hat, and sat + down. Pearson took the chair by the small flat-topped desk. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>“How + about that window?” he asked. “Shall I shut it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! We’ll be warm enough, I guess. You’ve got steam + heat, I see.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean you hear. Those pipes make noise enough to wake the dead. + At first I thought I couldn’t sleep because of the racket they made. + Now I doubt if I could without it. Would you consider a cigar, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! I don’t usually stop to consider. But I tell you, Jim—just + now you said something about a pipe. I’ve got mine aboard, but I ain’t + dared to smoke it since I left South Denboro. If you wouldn’t mind—” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit. Tobacco in this jar on the desk. I keep a temporary + supply in my jacket pocket. Matches? Here you are! What do you think of my—er—stateroom?” + </p> + <p> + “Think it makes nice, snug quarters,” was the prompt answer. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Snug is a good word. Much like living in an omnibus, but it + answers the purpose. I furnished it myself, except for the bed. The + original bureau had pictures of cauliflowers painted on each drawer front. + Mrs. Hepton—my landlady—was convinced that they were roses. I + told her she might be right, but, at all events, looking at them made me + hungry. Perhaps she noticed the effect on my appetite and was willing for + me to substitute.” + </p> + <p> + The captain laughed. Then, pointing, he asked: “What’s that + handbill?” + </p> + <p> + The “handbill” was a fair-sized poster announcing the + production at the “Eureka Opera House” of the “Thrilling + Comedy-Drama, The Golden Gods.” Pearson looked at it, made a face, + and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>“That,” + he said, “is my combined crusher and comforter. It is the + announcement of the first, and next to the last, performance of a play I + wrote in my calf days. The ‘Eureka Opera House’ is—or + was, if the ‘gods’ weren’t too much for it—located + at Daybury, Illinois. I keep that bill to prevent my conceit getting away + with me. Also, when I get discouraged over my novel, it reminds me that, + however bad the yarn may turn out to be, I have committed worse crimes.” + </p> + <p> + This led to the captain’s asking about the novel and how it was + progressing. His companion admitted having made some progress, more in the + line of revision than anything else. He had remodeled his hero somewhat, + in accordance with his new friend’s suggestions during their + interview at the Warren apartment, and had introduced other characters, + portrait sketches from memory of persons whom he had known in his boyhood + days in the Maine town. He read a few chapters aloud, and Captain Elisha + waxed almost enthusiastic over them. + </p> + <p> + Then followed a long discussion over a point of seamanship, the handling + of a bark in a gale. It developed that the young author’s knowledge + of saltwater strategy was extensive and correct in the main, though + somewhat theoretical. That of his critic was based upon practice and hard + experience. He cited this skipper and that as examples, and carried them + through no’theasters off Hatteras and typhoons in the Indian Ocean. + The room, in spite of the open window, grew thick with pipe smoke, and the + argument was punctuated by thumps on the desk and chair arms, and + illustrated by diagrams drawn by the captain’s forefinger on the + side of the dresser. The effects of oil on breaking rollers, the use of a + “sea-anchor” over the side to “hold<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> her to it,” + whether or not a man was justified in abandoning his ship under certain + given circumstances, these were debated pro and con. Always Pearson’s + “Uncle Jim” was held up as the final authority, the paragon of + sea captains, by the visitor, and, while his host pretended to agree, with + modest reservations, in this estimate of his relative, he was more and + more certain that his hero was bound to become a youthful edition of + Elisha Warren himself—and he thanked the fates which had brought + this fine, able, old-school mariner to his door. + </p> + <p> + At length, Captain Elisha, having worked “Uncle Jim” into a + safe harbor after a hundred mile cruise under jury jig, with all hands + watch and watch at the pumps, leaned forward in triumph to refill his + pipe. Having done so, his eyes remained fixed upon a photograph standing, + partially hidden by a leather collar box, upon the dresser. He looked at + it intently, then rose and took it in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I swan!” he exclaimed. “Either what my head’s + been the fullest of lately has struck to my eyesight, or else—why, + say, Jim, that’s Caroline, ain’t it?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson colored and seemed embarrassed. “Yes,” he answered, + “that is Miss Warren.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Good likeness, too! But what kind of rig has she got on? I’ve + seen her wear a good many dresses—seems to have a different one for + every day, pretty nigh—but I never saw her in anything like that. + Looks sort of outlandish; like one of them foreign girls at Geneva—or + Leghorn, say.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That is an Italian peasant costume. Miss Warren wore it at a + fancy dress ball a year ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Want to know! I-talian peasant, hey! Fifth Avenue<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> + peasant with diamonds in her hair. Becomin’ to her, ain’t it.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. She looks pretty <i>enough</i>! But she don’t need + diamonds nor hand-organ clothes to make her pretty.” + </p> + <p> + Then, looking up from the photograph, he asked, “Give you this + picture, did she?” + </p> + <p> + His friend’s embarrassment increased. “No,” he answered + shortly. Then, after an instant’s hesitation. “That ball was + given by the Astorbilts and was one of the most swagger affairs of the + season. The <i>Planet</i>—the paper with which I was connected—issues + a Sunday supplement of half-tone reproductions of photographs. One page + was given up to pictures of the ball and the costumes worn there.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Astonishin’ how folks do like to get their faces into + print. I used to know an old woman—Aunt Hepsibah Tucker, her name + was—she’s dead now. The pride of Aunt Hepsy’s heart was + that she took nineteen bottles of ‘Balm of Burdock Tea’ and + the tea folks printed her picture as a testimonial that she lived through + it. Ho, ho! And society big-bugs appear to have the same cravin’.” + </p> + <p> + “Some of them do. But that of your niece was obtained by our society + reporter from the photographer who took it. Bribery and corruption, of + course. Miss Warren would have been at least surprised to see it in our + supplement. I fancied she might not care for so much publicity and + suppressed it.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Well, I guess you did right. I’ll thank you for her. + By the way, I told Caroline where I was cal’latin’ to go this + mornin’, and she wished to be remembered to you.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>Pearson + seemed pleased, but he made no comment. Captain Elisha blew a smoke ring + from his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “And say, Jim,” he added, embarrassed in his turn, “I + hope you won’t think I’m interferin’ in your affairs, + but are you still set against comin’ up to where I live? I know you + said you had a reason, but are you sure it’s a good one?” + </p> + <p> + He waited for an answer but none came. Pearson was gazing out of the + window. The captain looked at his watch and rose. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I’ll have to be goin’,” he said. “It’s + after twelve now.” + </p> + <p> + His host swung around in his chair. “Sit down, Captain,” he + said. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since I saw you, and + I’m not sure about that reason. I believe I’ll ask your + advice. It is a delicate matter, and it involves your brother. You may see + it as he did, and, if so, our friendship ends, I suppose. But I’m + going to risk it. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Rodgers Warren and I,” he went on, “were well + acquainted during the latter part of my newspaper work. I was financial + man on the <i>Planet</i>, and some articles I wrote took your brother’s + fancy. At all events, he wrote me concerning them in highly complimentary + terms and asked me to call and see him at his office. I did so and—well, + we became very friendly, so much so that he invited me to his house. I + dined there several times, was invited to call often, and—I enjoyed + it. You see, I had few friends in the city, outside my journalistic + acquaintances, and I suppose I was flattered by Mr. Warren’s + kindness and the fancy he seemed to have taken to me. And I liked Miss + Warren—no one could help that—and I believed she liked me.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>“She + does like you,” interrupted his companion, with surprise. “Caroline’s + a good girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she is. However, she isn’t in this story, except as a + side-issue. At this time my ambitions were for a newspaper career, and I + thought I was succeeding. And her father’s marked interest and the + things he said to me promised more than an ordinary success. He was a well + known man on the street, and influential. So my head began to swell, and I + dreamed—a lot of foolishness. And then—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, put down his empty pipe, and sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” he continued, “came the upset. I judged + from what you said at our previous conversation, Captain, that you were + well enough acquainted with Wall Street to know that queer operations take + place there. Did you read about the South Shore Trolley business?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha considered. “Why, yes,” he said, slowly, + “seem’s if I did. One of those consolidations with ‘holdin’ + companies’ and franchises and extensions and water by the hogshead. + Wa’n’t that it? I remember now; the Boston papers had + considerable about it, and I presume likely the New York ones had more. + One of those all-accordin’-to-law swindles that sprout same as + toadstools in a dark place, but die out if the light’s turned on too + sudden. This one didn’t come to nothin’ but a bad smell, if I + remember right.” + </p> + <p> + “You do. And I suppose I’m responsible for the smell. I got + wind of the thing, investigated, found out something of what was going on, + and printed a preliminary story in the <i>Planet</i>. It caused a + sensation.” + </p> + <p> + He paused once more. Captain Elisha, for the sake of saying something, + observed, “I shouldn’t wonder.” + </p> + <p> + “It certainly did. And the morning on which it appeared,<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> Mr. + Rodgers Warren ’phoned me. He wished to see me at once. I went down + to his office. Captain, I dislike to tell you this. Mr. Warren was your + brother.” + </p> + <p> + “I know he was. And I’m his executor. Both those reasons make + me ’specially anxious to have you tell me the truth. Heave ahead + now, to oblige me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I found him very polite and cordial, at first. He said that a + ridiculous and sensational story concerning the Trolley Combine had + appeared in the <i>Planet</i>, and he would like to have me contradict it + and suppress further falsehoods of the kind. I told him I couldn’t + do that, because the story was true. I had written it myself. He was + angry, and I could see that he was holding himself in by main strength. I + went on to explain that it was the duty of an honest paper, as I saw it, + to expose such trespass upon the people’s rights. He asked me if I + knew who was behind the scheme. I said I knew some of the backers. They + were pretty big men, too. Then he informed me that he himself was deeply + interested. + </p> + <p> + “I was knocked off my feet by that, you can imagine. And, to be + frank, Captain, if I had known it at first I’m not sure that I, + personally, would have taken the matter up. Yet I might; I can’t + tell. But now that I had done it and discovered what I had, I couldn’t + give it up. I must go on and learn more. And I knew enough already to be + certain that the more I learned the more I should write and have + published. It was one of those things which had to be made public—if + a fellow had a conscience about him and a pride in the decency of his + profession. + </p> + <p> + “All this was going through my head as I sat there in his private + office. And he took my surprise and hesitation<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> as symptoms of wavering + and went at me, hard. Of course I knew, he said, that the operation was + absolutely within the law. I did, but that didn’t make it more + honest or moral or just. He went on to say that in large financial deals + of this nature petty scruples must be lost sight of. Good of the business, + rights of stockholders, all that sort of stuff; he rang the changes. All + the papers cared for was sensation; to imperil the fortune of widows and + orphans whose savings were invested in the South Shore Stock, for the sake + of sensation, was a crime. He should have known better than to say that to + me; it is such an ancient, worn-out platitude.” + </p> + <p> + “I know. I’ve been to political meetin’s. The widows and + orphans are always hangin’ on the success of the Republican party—or + the Democratic, whichever way you vote. The amount of tears shed over + their investments by fellers you wouldn’t trust with a brass + five-cent piece, is somethin’ amazin’. Go on; I didn’t + mean to interrupt.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he switched to a more personal appeal. He said he had taken a + fancy to me; had liked me from the very beginning. He recognized my + unusual genius at first sight and had gone as far as to make plans bearing + directly on my future. He was associated with men of wealth and business + sagacity. Large deals, of which the Trolley Combine was but one, were on + foot. He and his friends needed a representative on the press—a + publicity agent, so to speak. Some of the greatest corporations employed + men of that kind, and the salaries paid were large and the opportunities + afforded greater still. Well, that’s true enough. I know writers who + are doing just that thing and getting rich at it. I suppose they’ve + squared their consciences somehow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" + id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> and are willing to write lies and + misleading articles for what there is in it. I can’t, that’s + all; I’m not built that way, and I told him so. + </p> + <p> + “It ended in an open break. He reminded me of the favors he had done + me. He had treated me almost like a son, had introduced me to his family, + entertaining me at his table. Where was my gratitude? That was another bad + break on his part, for it made me mad. I told him I had not asked to be + adopted or fed by him; if I had supposed his kindness had an ulterior + motive, I would have seen him at the devil before I accepted a favor. My + career as a financial visitor was ended. Get out of his office! I got. But + the Trolley Combine did not go through. The <i>Planet</i> and the other + papers kept up the fight and—and the widows and orphans are + bankrupt, I presume.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha’s pipe had gone out long since. He absently rubbed + the warm bowl between his palms. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he muttered. “So ’Bije was deep in that + business, was he?” + </p> + <p> + “He was. Very deep indeed, I found out afterwards. And, I declare, I + almost pitied him at the time. He acted as if his whole fortune was staked + on the gamble. His hands shook, and the perspiration stood on his forehead + as he talked. I felt as if I had been the means of ruining him. But of + course, I hadn’t. He lived for some time after that, and, I + understand, died a rich man.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He left what I’d call a heap of money. My nephew and + niece don’t seem to think so, but I do.” + </p> + <p> + “So you see, Captain, why I stopped calling on the Warrens, and why + I did not accept Miss Warren’s invitation.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.... I see.... And yet I don’t<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> know. ’Bije may + have took to you for business reasons, but the children didn’t. They + liked you for yourself. Caroline as much as said so. And their father + never told ’em a word about the row, neither. Of course you couldn’t + have called when he was alive, but he’s gone, and I’m—well, + I’m sort of temporary skipper there now. And <i>I</i> want you to + come.” + </p> + <p> + “But if Miss Warren did know? She should know, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain’t sure that she should. I guess there’s consider’ble + in her pa’s life she ain’t acquainted with. And she’s as + straight and honest and upright as a schooner’s fo’mast. You + did nothin’ to be ’shamed of. It’s the other way ’round, + ’cordin’ to my notion. But leave her out of it now. I’ve + sacrificed some few things to take the job I’ve got at present, but + I can’t afford to sacrifice my friends. I count on you as a friend, + and I want you to come and see <i>me</i>. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, Captain Warren. I must think it over a while, I + guess.” + </p> + <p> + “All right—think. But the invitation stands—<i>my</i> + invitation. And, if you want to shift responsibility, shift it on to me. + Some day, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll tell Caroline + and Stevie the whole story. But I want them to know you and the world—and + me—a little better first. ’Cordin’ to my notion, they + need education just along that line. They’ve got teachers in other + branches, but.... There! I’ve <i>got</i> to be goin’. There’s + the dinner bell now.” + </p> + <p> + The string of Japanese gongs, hung in the lower hall, sounded sonorously. + Captain Elisha reached for his coat and hat, but Pearson caught his arm. + </p> + <p> + “No, you don’t!” he declared. “You’re going + to stay and have lunch with me—here. If you say no, I<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> shall + believe it is because you are afraid of a boarding-house meal.” + </p> + <p> + His guest protested, but the protests were overruled, and he and his host + went down to the dining room. The captain whispered as they entered, + “Land sakes, Jim, this takes me back home. It’s pretty nigh a + twin to the dinin’ room at the Centre House in South Denboro.” + </p> + <hr class="medium" /> + <p> + All boarding-house dining rooms bear a family likeness, so the comment was + not far wrong. A long table, rows of chairs on each side, ancient and + honorable pictures on the walls, the landlady presiding majestically over + the teapot, the boarders’ napkins in rings—all the familiar + landmarks were present. + </p> + <p> + Most of the male “regulars” were in business about the city + and therefore lunched elsewhere, but the females were in evidence. Pearson + introduced his guest. The captain met Mrs. Hepton, the landlady, plump, + gray-haired, and graciously hospitable. She did not look at all like a + business woman, but appearances are not always to be trusted; Mrs. Hepton + had learned not to trust them—also delinquent boarders, too far. He + met Miss Sherborne, whose coiffure did not match in spots, but whose + voice, so he learned afterward, had been “cultivated abroad.” + Miss Sherborne gave music lessons. Mrs. Van Winkle Ruggles also claimed + his attention and held it, principally because of the faded richness of + her apparel. Mrs. Ruggles was a widow, suffering from financial reverses; + the contrast between her present mode of living and the grandeur of the + past formed her principal topic of conversation. + </p> + <p> + There were half a dozen others, including an artist whose aversion to + barbers was proclaimed by the luxuriant<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> length of his locks, a + quiet old gentleman who kept the second-hand book store two doors below; + his wife, a neat, trim little body; and Mr. and Mrs. C. Dickens, no less. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dickens was bald, an affliction which he tried to conceal by brushing + the hair at the sides of his head across the desert at the top. He shaved + his cheeks and wore a beard and mustache. Mrs. Dickens addressed him as + “C.,” and handed him the sauce bottle, the bread, or whatever + she imagined he desired, as if she were offering sacrifice to an idol. + </p> + <p> + She sat next to Captain Elisha and imparted information concerning her + lord and master in whispers, during the intervals between offerings. + </p> + <p> + “My husband will be pleased to meet you, Captain Warren,” she + murmured. “Any friend of Mr. Pearson is certain to be an + acquisition. Mr. Pearson and my husband are congenial spirits; they are + members of the same profession.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to know, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. What is it, ‘C.’ dear? Oh, the butter! Margaret—” + to the waitress—“Mr. Dickens wishes another butter-ball. Yes, + Captain Warren, Mr. Dickens is an author. Haven’t you noticed the—er—resemblance? + It is considered quite remarkable.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha looked puzzled. “Why,” he said, “I hadn’t + noticed it ’special. Jim’s—Mr. Pearson’s—eyes + and his are some the same color, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! not the resemblance to Mr. Pearson. I didn’t mean <i>that</i>. + The resemblance to his more famous namesake. Surely you notice it <i>now</i>.” + </p> + <p> + The captain shook his head. “I—I’m afraid I’m + thick-headed, ma’am,” he admitted. “I’m out of + soundin’s.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>“But + the nose, and his beard, and his manner. Don’t they remind you of + the English Dickens?” + </p> + <p> + “O-oh!” Captain Elisha inspected the great man with interest. + He had a vague memory of a portrait in a volume of “Pickwick” + at home. “Oh, I see! Yes, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you see! Everyone does. Mr. Dickens often says—it + is one of his favorite jokes—that while other men must choose a + profession, his was chosen for him by fate. How, with such a name, could + he do anything except write?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, ma’am. But names are risky pilots, ain’t + they? I’ve run against a consider’ble number of Solomons, but + there wa’n’t one of ’em that carried more’n a + deckload of wisdom. They christened me Elisha, but I can’t even + prophesy the weather with sartinty enough to bet. However, I daresay in + your husband’s case it’s all right.” + </p> + <p> + The lady had turned away, and he was afraid he might have offended her. + The fear was groundless; she was merely offering another sacrifice, the + sugar this time. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” she asked, turning, “you were saying—” + </p> + <p> + “Why—er—nothin’ of account. I cal’late the + C. stands for Charles, then.” + </p> + <p> + “No-o. Mr. Dickens’s Christian name is Cornelius; but don’t + mention it before him, he is very sensitive on that point.” + </p> + <p> + The Dickenses “tickled” the captain exceedingly, and, after + the meal was over, he spoke of them to Pearson. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he said, “you’re in notorious company, ain’t + you, Jim? What has Cornelius Charles turned out so far, in the way of + masterpieces?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson laughed. “I believe he is employed by a<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> subscription house,” + he replied. “Doing hack work on an encyclopedia. A great collection + of freaks, aren’t they, Captain Warren?” + </p> + <p> + “Kind of. But that old book-shop man and his wife seem nice folks. + And, as for freaks, the average boardin’ house, city or country, + seems to draw ’em like flies. I guess most anybody would get queer + if they boarded all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so. Or, if they weren’t queer, they wouldn’t + board permanently from choice. There are two or three good fellows who + dine and breakfast here. The food isn’t bad, considering the price.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it ain’t. Tasted more like home than any meal I’ve + had for a good while. I’m afraid I never was cut out for swell livin’.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hepton approached them as they stood in the hall. She wished to know + if Mr. Pearson’s friend was thinking of finding lodgings. Because + Mr. Saks—the artist’s name—was giving up the second + floor back in a fortnight, and it was a very pleasant room. “We + should be delighted to add you to our little circle, Captain Warren.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson told her that his companion was already lodged, and she said + good-by and left them. The captain smiled broadly. + </p> + <p> + “Everything in New York seems to be circles,” he declared. + “Well, Jim, you come up and circulate with me, first chance you get. + I’m dependin’ on you to call, remember.” + </p> + <p> + The young man was still doubtful. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll see,” he said. “I can’t promise yet—perhaps + I will.” + </p> + <p> + “You will—after you’ve thought it out to a finish. And + come soon. I’m gettin’ interested in that second<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> + edition of your Uncle Jim, and I want to keep along with him as fast as + you write. Good-by. Much obliged for the dinner—there I go again!—luncheon, + I mean.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XII + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">P</span>earson + called. He appeared at the apartment a week after the luncheon at the + boarding house and was welcomed by the Captain Elisha, who, hearing his + voice, strode into the hall, sent the shocked Edwards to the right-about + in a hurry, seized his friend’s hand, and ushered him into the + library. Pearson said nothing concerning his change of mind, the course of + reasoning which led him to make the visit, and the captain asked no + questions. He took it for granted that the young fellow’s common + sense had turned the trick, and, the result being what it was, that was + sufficient. + </p> + <p> + They spent a pleasant afternoon together. Caroline was out, and they had + the library to themselves. The newest chapters of the novel were read and + discussed, and the salty flavor of the talk was as pronounced as ever. + Pearson left early, but promised to come again very soon. + </p> + <p> + When Caroline returned her uncle told her of his visitor. She seemed + unfeignedly pleased, but regretted that she had not been there. “He + was such a friend of father’s,” she said, “that seeing + him here would be almost like the old days. And so many of those whom we + thought were his friends and ours have left us.” + </p> + <p> + This was true. Rodgers Warren and his children had had many acquaintances, + had been active in church and charitable work, and their former home was a + center of entertainment and gayety while he lived.<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> But his death and the + rumors of shrinkage in the family fortune, the giving up of the Fifth + Avenue residence, the period of mourning which forbade social functions, + all these helped to bring about forgetfulness on the part of the many; and + Caroline’s supersensitiveness and her firm resolve not to force her + society where it might be unwelcome had been the causes of + misunderstanding in others, whose liking and sympathy were genuine. + “I don’t see what has come over Caroline Warren,” + declared a former girl friend, “she isn’t a bit as she used to + be. Well, I’ve done my part. If she doesn’t wish to return my + call, she needn’t. <i>I</i> sha’n’t annoy her again. But + I’m sorry, for she was the sweetest girl I knew.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen had never been very popular, and his absence at college still + further reduced the number of young people who might be inclined to call. + Their not calling confirmed Caroline’s belief that she and her + brother were deliberately shunned because of their change in + circumstances, and she grew more sensitive and proudly resentful in + consequence. Naturally she turned for comfort to those who remained + faithful, the Dunns in particular. They were loyal to her. Therefore, with + the intensity of her nature, she became doubly loyal to them. The rector + of St. Denis dropped in frequently, and others occasionally, but she was + lonely. She craved the society of those nearer her own age. + </p> + <p> + Pearson’s coming, then, was psychologically apt. When he made his + next call upon Captain Elisha, to find the latter out but his niece at + home, she welcomed him cordially and insisted upon his waiting until her + guardian returned. The conversation was, at first, embarrassing for the + ex-reporter; she spoke of her father, and Pearson—the memory of his + last interview with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg + 190]</a></span> the latter fresh in his mind, and painfully aware that she + knew nothing of it—felt guilty and like a hypocrite. But soon the + subject changed, and when the captain entered the library he found the + pair laughing and chatting like old acquaintances, as, of course, they + were. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha, paying no attention to his friend’s shakes of the + head, invited his niece to be present at the reading of the latest + addition to what he called “mine and Jim’s record-breakin’ + sea yarn.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s really mine, you understand, Caroline,” he + observed, with a wink. “I’m silent partner in the firm—if + you can call the one that does all the talkin’ silent—and Jim + don’t do nothin’ but make it up and write it and get the + profits. Course, you mustn’t mention this to him, ’cause he + thinks he’s the author, and ’twould hurt his feelin’s.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s quite right,” declared Pearson, emphatically. + “If the thing is ever finished and published he will deserve all the + credit. His advice had already remade it. This uncle of yours, Miss + Warren,” he added, turning to her, “is like the admiral + Kipling wrote about—he has ‘lived more stories’ than + ever I could invent.” + </p> + <p> + The captain, fearful that his niece might take the statement seriously, + hastened to protest. + </p> + <p> + “He’s just foolin’, Caroline,” he said. “All + I’ve done is set and talk and talk and talk. I’ve used up more + of his time and the surroundin’ air than you’d believe was + possible. When I get next to salt water, even in print, it’s time to + muzzle me, same as a dog in July. The yarn is Jim’s altogether, and + it’s mighty interestin’—to me anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure it will be to me, also,” declared the young + lady. “Captain Warren has told me all about it, Mr.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> + Pearson, and I’m very eager to hear the new portion.” + </p> + <p> + “There!” Captain Elisha slapped his knee. “There, Jim!” + he exclaimed, “you hear that? Now you’ve <i>got</i> to read + it. Anchor’s apeak! Heave ahead and get under way.” + </p> + <p> + So, because he could not well refuse, the author reluctantly began to + read. And, as usual, his nautical friend to interrupt and comment. + Caroline listened, her eyes twinkling. When the reading and the arguments + were at an end, she declared it was all splendid; “Just like being + at sea one’s self,” she said. “I positively refuse to + permit another installment to be submitted unless I am—on deck. That’s + the proper phrase, isn’t it, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, aye, ma’am! Jim, we’ve shipped a new second mate, + and she’s goin’ to be wuth her salt. You hear <i>me</i>!” + </p> + <p> + She proved to be worth all of that, at least in Pearson’s opinion. + His calls and the readings and discussions became more and more frequent. + Each of the trio enjoyed them greatly, Caroline quite as much as the + others. Here was something new and fresh, something to furnish a real + interest. The story advanced rapidly, the character of the nautical hero + shaped itself better and better, and the heroine, also, heretofore a + somewhat shadowy and vague young woman, began to live and breathe. She + changed surprisingly, not only in mental but in physical characteristics. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha was first to notice the latter peculiarity. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Jim!” he interrupted, one afternoon, “what was + that you just read about Mary? Her hat blowin’ off to leeward and + her brown hair blowin’ after it? Or somethin’ of that sort?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>Caroline + laughed merrily. The author turned to the passage mentioned. + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly, Captain,” he replied, smiling. “I said her + hat had blown away, and her brown curls tossed in the wind. What’s + wrong with that? Hats do blow away in a sou’wester; I’ve seen + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he thinks she should have been more careful in pinning it + on,” suggested the feminine member of the advisory board. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha shook his head. “No,” he observed calmly, + “but why was she wearin’ that kind of hair? She’s pretty + young to use a switch, ain’t she?” + </p> + <p> + “Switch?” repeated “Mary’s” creator, with + some indignation. “What are you talking about? When I first + described her, I said that her hair was luxuriant and one of her chief + beauties.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a fact! So you did. What made her dye it?” + </p> + <p> + “Dye it? What do you think she is—a chorus girl?” + </p> + <p> + “If I remember right she’s a postmaster’s daughter. But + why is she wearin’ brown hair, if it ain’t neither false or + dyed? Back in the third chapter ’twas <i>black</i>, like her eyes.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline burst into another laugh. Pearson blushed to his forehead. + “Well, by George!” he admitted, “you’re right. I + believe I did have it black, at first.” + </p> + <p> + “You sartin did! I ain’t got any objections to either color, + only it ought to stay put, hadn’t it? In a town of the size she’s + livin’ in, a girl with changeable hair is likely to be kind of + conspicuous. I tell you! maybe it bleached out in the sun. Ho, ho!” + </p> + <p> + The writer made a note on the margin of his manuscript and declared that + his heroine’s tresses and eyes<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> should be made to + correspond at all stages. They did, but they remained brown. Captain + Elisha chuckled inwardly, but offered no further comments. Caroline, whose + own hair and eyes were brown, did not refer to the matter at all. + </p> + <p> + She and the young man became better acquainted at each succeeding “literary + clinic,” as the latter called them. When Rodgers Warren first + introduced him at their former home he had impressed her favorably, + largely because of her desire to like anyone whom her father fancied. She + worshiped the dead broker, and his memory to her was sacred. She would + have forgiven and did forgive any wrong he might have done her, even his + brother’s appointment as guardian, though that she could not + understand. Unlike Stephen, who fiercely resented the whole affair and + said bitter things concerning his parent, she believed he had done what he + considered right. Her feeling against Captain Elisha had been based upon + the latter’s acceptance of that appointment when he should have + realized his unfitness. And his living with them and disgracing them in + the eyes of their friends by his uncouth, country ways, made her blind to + his good qualities. The Moriarty matter touched her conscience, and she + saw more clearly. But she was very far from considering him an equal, or + other than what Mrs. Corcoran Dunn termed him, an “encumbrance,” + even yet. She forced herself to be kind and tolerant and gave him more of + her society, though the church-going experience was not repeated, nor did + she accompany him on his walks or out-of-door excursions. + </p> + <p> + If Pearson’s introductions had been wholly as a friend of her + guardian, her feeling toward him might have been tinged with the same + condescension or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg + 194]</a></span> aversion, even. But, hallowed as he was by association + with her father, she welcomed him for the latter’s sake. And, as she + became interested in the novel and found that her suggestions concerning + it were considered valuable, she looked forward to his visits and was + disappointed if, for any reason, they were deferred. Without being aware + of it, she began to like the young author, not alone because he wrote + entertainingly and flattered her by listening respectfully to her + criticisms, or because her father had liked him, but for himself. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha was much pleased. + </p> + <p> + “I told you, Jim!” he said. “She’s just as glad to + see you as I am. Now don’t you see how foolish it was to stay away + ’cause you and ’Bije had a spat? Think of all the good times + we’d have missed! And we needed a female aboard your Uncle Jim’s + craft, to help with ‘Mary’ and the rest.” + </p> + <p> + His friend nodded. “She has been a great help, certainly,” he + answered. “But I can’t help feeling guilty every time I come + here. It is too much like obtaining her friendship under false pretenses. + She should know the whole thing, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “She shall know it, when I think it’s time for her to. But I + want her to know you first. Then she’ll be able to judge without so + much prejudice. I told you I’d take the responsibility. You leave + the ship in my charge for a spell.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of this confident assertion, the captain also felt a trifle + guilty. He realized that selfishness was involved in his keeping Pearson’s + secret from his niece. He was thoroughly enjoying himself with these two, + and he could not bear to risk the breaking up which might follow + disclosure. + </p> + <p> + One evening, while a “clinic” was in progress and<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> the + three were deep in consultation, Edwards entered to announce Mrs. Corcoran + Dunn and Mr. Malcolm. The butler’s giving the lady precedence in his + announcing showed that he, too, realized who was ranking officer in that + family, even though the captain’s “conundrum” had + puzzled him. Mrs. Dunn and her son entered at his heels. + </p> + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 336px;"> + <img src="images/i194.jpg" class="smallgap" width="336" height="500" + alt="“She and the young man became better aquainted at each succeeding ‘literary clinic.’”" + title="" /> <span class="caption">“She and the young man became + better aquainted at each succeeding ‘literary clinic.’”</span> + </div> + <p> + The lady took in the group by the table at a glance: Pearson, with the + manuscript in his hands; Captain Elisha leaning back in his chair, + frowning at the interruption; Caroline rising to welcome the guests, and + coloring slightly as she did so. All these details Mrs. Dunn noted, made + an entry in her mental memorandum-book, and underscored it for future + reference. + </p> + <p> + If she discerned unpleasant possibilities in the situation, she did not + allow them to disturb her outward serenity. She kissed Caroline and called + her “dear child” as fondly as usual, shook hands graciously + with Captain Elisha, and bowed condescending recognition of Pearson. + </p> + <p> + “And how is the novel coming on? Do tell me!” she begged. + “I’m sure we interrupted a reading. It’s too bad of us, + really! But Malcolm insisted upon coming. He has been very busy of late—some + dreadful ‘corner’ or other on the exchange—and has + neglected his friends—or thinks he has. I told him I had explained + it all to you, Caroline, but he <i>would</i> come to-night. It is the + first call he has made in weeks; so you <i>see</i>! But there! he doesn’t + consider running in here a call.” + </p> + <p> + Call or not, it spoiled the evening for at least two of the company. + Pearson left early. Captain Elisha excused himself soon after and went to + his room, leaving the Dunns to chat with Caroline for an hour or<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> more. + Malcolm joked and was languid and cynical. His mother asked a few + carefully guarded questions. + </p> + <p> + “Quite a clever person, this young author friend of yours seems to + be, Caroline,” she observed. “Almost brilliant, really.” + </p> + <p> + “He isn’t a friend of mine, exactly,” replied the girl. + “He and Captain Warren are friendly, and father used to know and + like him, as I have told you. The novel is great fun, though! The people + in it are coming to seem almost real to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I daresay! I was a great reader myself once, before my health—my + heart, you know—began to trouble me. The doctors now forbid my + reading anything the least bit exciting. Has this—er—Mr. + Pearson means?” + </p> + <p> + “I know very little of him, personally, but I think not. He used to + be connected with the <i>Planet</i>, and wrote things about Wall Street. + That was how father came to know him.” + </p> + <p> + “Live in an attic, does he?” inquired Malcolm. “That’s + what all authors do, isn’t it? Put up in attics and sleep on pallets—whatever + they are—and eat crusts, don’t they? Jolly life—if you + like it! I prefer bucking wheat corners, myself.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn laughed, and Caroline joined her, though not as heartily. + </p> + <p> + “How ridiculous you are, Malcolm!” exclaimed his mother. + “Mr. Pearson isn’t that kind of an author, I’m sure. But + where does he live, Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + “Somewhere on West 18th Street, I believe. He has rooms there, I + think.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Really? And how is this wonderful novel of his progressing? + When does he expect to favor us with it?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>“I + don’t know. But it is progressing very well at present. He has + written three chapters since last Wednesday. He was reading them to us + when you came.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! Since last Wednesday? How interesting!” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm did not seem to find the topic interesting, for he smothered a + yawn. His mother changed the subject. On their way home, however, she + again referred to it. + </p> + <p> + “You must make it a point to see her every day,” she declared. + “No matter what happens, you must do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Lord!” groaned her son, “I can’t. There’s + the deuce and all on ’Change just now, and the billiard tournament’s + begun at the Club. My days and nights are full up. Once a week is all she + should expect, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter what you think or what she expects, you must do as I say.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I don’t like the looks of things.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, rubbish! You’re always seeing bugaboos. Uncle Hayseed is + pacified, isn’t he? I’ve paid the Moriarty crowd off. Beastly + big bills they were, too!” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Uncle Hayseed, as you call him, is anything but a fool. But + he isn’t the particular trouble at present. He and I understand each + other, I believe, and he will be reasonable. But—there is this + Pearson. I don’t like his calling so frequently.” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm laughed in huge scorn. “Pearson!” he sneered. “Why, + he’s nothing but a penny-a-liner, without the penny. Surely you’re + not afraid Caroline will take a fancy to him. She isn’t an idiot.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>“She’s + a young girl, and more romantic than I wish she was. At her age girls do + silly things, sometimes. He called on Wednesday—you heard her say so—and + was there again to-night. I don’t like it, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Her uncle is responsible for—” + </p> + <p> + “It is more than that. She knew him long before she knew her uncle + existed. Her father introduced him—her <i>father</i>. And to her + mind, whatever her father did was right.” + </p> + <p> + “Witness his brilliant selection of an executor. Oh, Mater, you + weary me! I used to know this Pearson when he was a reporter downtown, + and.... Humph!” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, nothing, I guess. It seemed as if I remember Warren and + Pearson in some sort of mix-up. Some.... Humph! I wonder.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent, thinking. His mother pressed his arm excitedly. + </p> + <p> + “If you remember anything that occurred between Rodgers Warren and + this man, anything to this Pearson’s disadvantage, it may pay us to + investigate. What was it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. But it seemed as if I remembered Warren’s + ... or a friend of his telling me ... saying something ... but it couldn’t + be of importance, because Caroline doesn’t know it.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not so sure that it may not be important. And, if you + recall, on that day when we first met him at Caroline’s, she seemed + hurt because he had not visited them since her father died. Perhaps there + <i>was</i> a reason. At any rate, I should look into the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Mater, just as you say. Really you ought to join a Don’t + Worry Club.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>“One + member in the family is quite sufficient. And I expect you to devote + yourself to Caroline from now on. That girl is lonely, and when you get + the combination of a lonely romantic young girl and a good-looking and + interesting young fellow, even though he is as poor as a church mouse, <i>anything</i> + may happen. Add to that the influence of an unpractical but sharp old + Yankee relative and guardian—then the situation is positively + dangerous.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XIII + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">A</span>n + important event was about to take place. At least, it seemed important to + Captain Elisha, although the person most intimately concerned appeared to + have forgotten it entirely. He ventured to remind her of it. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline,” he said, “Sunday is your birthday, ain’t + it?” + </p> + <p> + His niece looked at him in surprise. “Yes,” she answered, + “it is. How did you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I remembered, that’s all. Graves, the lawyer man, told + me how old you and Stevie were, fust time I met him. And his partner, Mr. + Sylvester, gave me the date one day when he was goin’ over your pa’s + will. You’ll be twenty years old Sunday, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + It was late in the afternoon, and she had been out since ten o’clock + shopping with Mrs. Dunn, lunching downtown with the latter and Malcolm, + and motoring for an hour or two. The weather for the season was mild and + sunny, and the crisp air had brightened her cheeks, her eyes sparkled, her + fur coat and cap were very becoming, and Captain Elisha inspected her + admiringly before making another remark. + </p> + <p> + “My! My!” he exclaimed, after an instant’s pause. + “Twenty years old! Think of it! ’Bije’s girl’s a + young woman now, ain’t she? I cal’late he was proud of you, + too. He ought to have been. I presume likely <i>he</i> didn’t forget + your birthday.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>He + rose to help her with the heavy coat. As he lifted it from her shoulders, + he bent forward and caught a glimpse of her face. + </p> + <p> + “There! there!” he said, hastily. “Don’t feel bad, + dearie. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelin’s. Excuse me; I was + thinkin’ out loud, sort of.” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer at once, but turned away to remove her cap. Then she + answered, without looking at him. + </p> + <p> + “He never forgot them,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Course he didn’t. Well, you see I didn’t forget, + either.” + </p> + <p> + It was an unfortunate remark, inasmuch as it drew, in her mind, a + comparison between her handsome, dignified father and his rude, uncultured + brother. The contrast was ever present in her thoughts, and she did not + need to be reminded of it. She made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinkin’,” continued the captain, conscious of + having made a mistake, “that maybe we might celebrate somehow, in a + quiet way.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I am not in the mood for—celebrations.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I didn’t mean fireworks and the town band. I just thought—” + </p> + <p> + “Please don’t. I remember other birthdays too well.” + They had been great occasions, those birthdays of hers, ever since she was + a little girl. On the eighteenth she made her début in society, and + the gown she wore on that memorable evening was laid away upstairs, a + cherished memento, to be kept as long as she lived. Each year Rodgers + Warren took infinite pains to please and surprise his idolized daughter. + She could not bear to think of another birthday, now that he had been + taken from her. + </p> + <p> + Her guardian pulled his beard. “Well,” he observed<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> + ruefully, “then my weak head’s put my foot in it again, as the + feller said. If I ain’t careful I’ll be like poor cracked + Philander Baker, who lives with his sister over at Denboro Centre. The + doctor told Philander he was threatened with softenin’ of the brain, + and the sister thanked him for the compliment. You see, Caroline, I wrote + on my own hook and asked Stevie to come home Saturday and stay till + Monday. I kind of thought you’d like to have him here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I should like <i>that</i>! But will he come? Has he written + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Yes, I cal’late he’ll be on deck. He’s—er—yes, + he’s written me.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled as he answered. As a matter of fact, the correspondence between + Stephen and himself had been lengthy and voluminous on the part of the + former, and brief and business-like on his own. The boy, on his return to + college, had found “conditions” awaiting him, and the amount + of hard work involved in their clearance was not at all to his taste. He + wrote his guardian before the first week was over, asserting that the + whole business was foolishness and a waste of time. He should come home at + once, he said, and he notified the captain that such was his intention. + Captain Elisha replied with promptness and decision. If he came home he + would be sent back, that was all. “I realize you’ve got a job + ahead of you, Son,” wrote the captain, “but you can do it, if + you will. Fact is, I guess you’ve got to. So sail in and show us + what you’re made of.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen’s answer was a five page declaration of independence. He + refused to be bullied by any living man. He had made arrangements to come + to New York on the following Monday, and he was coming. As to being<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> sent + back, he wished his uncle to understand that it was one thing to order and + another to enforce obedience. To which he received the following note: + </p> + <div class="blockquot"> + <p> + “I can’t stop you from coming, Steve, except by going to New + Haven and holding you by main strength. That I don’t propose to + do, for two reasons: first, that it is too much trouble, and second that + it ain’t necessary. You can come home once in a while to see your + sister, but you mustn’t do it till I say the word. If you do, I + shall take the carfare out of your allowance, likewise board while you + are here, and stop that allowance for a month as a sort of fine for + mutiny. So you better think it over a spell. And, if I was you, I wouldn’t + write Caroline that I was coming, or thinking of coming, till I had my + mind made up. She believes you are working hard at your lessons. I + shouldn’t disappoint her, especially as it wouldn’t be any + use. + </p> + </div> + <p> + <span class="right">“Your affectionate uncle,</span><br /> <span + class="right2">“<span class="smcap">ELISHA WARREN</span>.”</span> + </p> + <p> + The result of all this was that Stephen, whose finances were already in a + precarious condition, did think it over and decided not to take the risk. + Also, conscious that his sister sided with their guardian to the extent of + believing the university the best place for him at present, he tore up the + long letter of grievance which he had written her, and, in that which took + its place, mentioned merely that he was “grinding like blazes,” + and the only satisfaction he got from it was his removal from the society + of the “old tyrant from Cape Cod.” + </p> + <p> + He accepted the tyrant’s invitation to return for the week-end and + his sister’s birthday with no hesitation<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> whatever; and his letter + of acceptance was so politic as to be almost humble. + </p> + <p> + He arrived on an early train Saturday morning. Caroline met him at the + station, and the Dunns’ car conveyed them to the latter’s + residence, where they were to spend the day. The Dunns and Caroline had + been together almost constantly since the evening when Malcolm and his + mother interrupted the reading of the novel. The former, while professing + to be harassed by business cares, sacrificed them to the extent of + devoting at least a part of each twenty-four hours to the young lady’s + society. She was rarely allowed to be alone with her uncle, a circumstance + which troubled her much less than it did him. He missed the evenings which + he had enjoyed so much, and the next consultation over the adventures of + Pearson’s “Uncle Jim” and his “Mary” seemed + flat and uninteresting without criticism and advice. + </p> + <p> + The author himself noticed the difference. + </p> + <p> + “Rot!” he exclaimed, throwing the manuscript aside in disgust. + “It’s rot, isn’t it! If I can’t turn out better + stuff than that, I’d better quit. And I thought it was pretty + decent, too, until to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha shook his head. “It don’t seem quite so + shipshape, somehow,” he admitted, “but I guess likely it’s + ’cause my head’s full of other things just now. I’m + puzzled ’most to death to know what to get for Caroline’s + birthday. I want to get her somethin’ she’ll like, and she’s + got pretty nigh everything under the sun. Say, Jim, you’ve been + workin’ too hard, yourself. Why don’t you take to-morrow off + and cruise around the stores helpin’ me pick out a present. Come + ahead—do!” + </p> + <p> + They spent the next afternoon in that “cruise,” visiting<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> + department stores, jewelers, and art shops innumerable. Captain Elisha was + hard to please, and his comments characteristic. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you’re right, Jim,” he said, “there’s + no use lookin’ at pictures. Let alone that the walls are so covered + with ’em now a fly can’t scarcely light without steppin’ + on some kind of scenery—let alone that, my judgment on pictures ain’t + any good. I cal’late that’s considered pretty fine, ain’t + it?” pointing to a painting in the gallery where they then were. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the dealer, much amused. “That is a good + specimen of the modern impressionist school.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Cookin’ school, I shouldn’t wonder. I’d + call it a portrait of a plate of scrambled eggs, if ’twa’n’t + for that green thing that’s either a cow or a church in the offin’. + Out of soundin’s again, I am! But I knew she liked pictures, and + so.... However, let’s set sail for a jewelry store.” + </p> + <p> + The sixth shop of this variety which they visited happened to be one of + the largest and most fashionable in the city. Here the captain’s + fancy was taken by a gold chain for the neck, set with tiny emeralds. + </p> + <p> + “That’s pretty—sort of—ain’t it, Jim?” + he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied his companion, with emphasis, “it is. And + I think you’ll find it is expensive, also.” + </p> + <p> + “That so? How much?” turning to the salesman. + </p> + <p> + The latter gave the price of the chain. Captain Elisha whistled. + </p> + <p> + “Whew! Jerushy!” he exclaimed. “And it wouldn’t + much more than go around my wrist, at that. All the same size, are they?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Some are longer. The longer ones are higher priced, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin! They’re for fleshy folks, I s’pose. Mrs.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> Thoph + Kenney down home, she’d have to splice three of ’em together + to make the round trip. Thoph’s always scared he won’t get his + money’s wuth in a trade, but he couldn’t kick when he got her. + To give the minister a dollar and walk off with two hundred and eighty + pounds of wife is showin’ some business sagacity, hey? To do him + justice, I will say that <i>he</i> seems to be satisfied; she’s the + one that does the complainin’. I guess this is the most expensive + counter in the store, ain’t it, Mister?” + </p> + <p> + The clerk laughed. “No, indeed,” he said. “These are all + moderate priced goods. I wonder,” turning to Pearson, “if your + friend wouldn’t like to see some of our choice pieces. It is a quiet + day here, and I shall be glad to show them.” + </p> + <p> + He led the way to a set of show cases near the door on the Fifth Avenue + side. There before Captain Elisha’s dazzled eyes were displayed + diamond necklaces and aigrettes, tiaras and brooches, the figures on their + price tags running high into the thousands. Pearson and the good-natured + clerk enjoyed themselves hugely. + </p> + <p> + “Jim,” said the captain after a little of this, “is + there a police officer lookin’ this way?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson laughed. “I guess not,” he answered. “Why? The + temptation isn’t getting too much for your honesty, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” with a sigh, “but I’m carryin’ a forty + dollar watch and wearin’ a ring that cost fifteen. I thought they + was some punkins till I begun to look at this stuff. Now they make me feel + so mean and poverty-struck that I expect to be took up for a tramp any + minute. Mister,” to the clerk, “you run right along and wrap + up that chain I was lookin’ at. Hurry! or I’ll be ashamed to + carry anything so cheap.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>“Think + she’ll like it, do you, Jim?” he asked, when they were once + more out of doors with the purchase in his inside pocket. + </p> + <p> + “She ought, certainly,” replied Pearson. “It’s a + beautiful thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Well, you see,” apologetically, “I wanted to give + her somethin’ pretty good. ’Bije always did, and I didn’t + want to fall too fur behind. But,” with a chuckle, “you needn’t + mention the price to anybody. If Abbie—my second cousin keepin’ + house for me, she is—if Abbie heard of it she’d be for puttin’ + me in an asylum. Abbie’s got a hair breastpin and a tortoise shell + comb, but she only wears ’em to the Congregationalist meetin’-house, + where she’s reasonably sure there ain’t likely to be any + sneak-thieves. She went to a Unitarian sociable once, but she carried + ’em in a bag inside her dress.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha planned to surprise his niece with the gift at breakfast on + the morning of her birthday, but, after reflection, decided to postpone + the presentation until dinner time. The inevitable Dunns had taken upon + themselves the duty of caring for the girl and her brother during the + major part of the day. The yellow car appeared at the door at ten o’clock + and bore the two away. Caroline assured her guardian, however, that they + would return in season for the evening meal. + </p> + <p> + The captain spent lonely but busy hours until dinner time came. He had + done some scheming on his own hook and, after a long argument with the + cook, reënforced by a small sum in cash, had prevailed upon that + haughty domestic to fashion a birthday cake of imposing exterior and + indigestible make-up. Superintending the icing of this masterpiece + occupied some time. He then worried Edwards into a respectful but stubborn<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> fury + by suggesting novelties in the way of table arrangement. Another bestowal + of small change quelled the disturbance. Then came, by messenger, a dozen + American Beauty roses with Mr. Pearson’s card attached. These the + captain decided should be placed in the center of the festive board. As a + center piece had been previously provided, there was more argument. The + cook took the butler’s side in the debate, and the pair yielded only + when Captain Elisha again dived into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “But I warn you, all hands,” he observed, “that this is + the last time. My right fist’s got a cramp in it this minute, and + you couldn’t open it again with a cold chisel.” + </p> + <p> + At last, however, everything was as it should be, and he sat down in the + library to await the coming of the young people. The gold chain in its + handsome leather case, the latter enclosed in the jeweler’s box, was + carefully laid beside Caroline’s place at the table. The dinner was + ready, the cake, candles and all—the captain had insisted upon + twenty candles—was ready, also. There was nothing to do but wait—and + he waited. + </p> + <p> + Six-thirty was the usual dinner hour. It passed. Seven o’clock + struck, then eight, and still Captain Elisha sat alone in the library. The + cook sent word that the dinner was ruined. Edwards respectfully asked, + “What shall I do, sir?” twice, the second time being sent + flying with an order to “Go for’ard and keep your hatches + closed!” The nautical phraseology was lost upon the butler, but the + tone and manner of delivery were quite understandable. + </p> + <p> + Several times the captain rose from his chair to telephone the Dunn house + and ask the reason for delay. Each time he decided not to do so. No doubt + there were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> + good reasons; Caroline and her brother had been detained; perhaps the + automobile had broken down—the things were always breaking down just + at the most inconvenient times; perhaps.... Well, at any rate, he would + not ’phone just yet; he would wait a little longer. + </p> + <p> + At last the bell rang. Captain Elisha sprang up, smiling, his impatience + and worry forgotten, and, pushing the butler aside, hurried to open the + door himself. He did so and faced, not his niece and nephew, but Pearson. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Captain,” hailed the young man, cheerily. + “Didn’t expect me, did you? I dropped in for a moment to shake + hands with you and to offer congratulations to Miss Warren.” Then, + noticing the expression on his friend’s face, he added, “What’s + the matter? Anything wrong? Am I intruding?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! Course not. You’re as welcome as another egg in a + poor man’s hen-house. Come right in and take off your things. I’m + glad to see you. Only—well, the fact is I thought ’twas + Caroline comin’ home. She and Stevie was to be here over two hours + ago, and I can’t imagine what’s keepin’ ’em.” + </p> + <p> + He insisted upon his visitor’s remaining, although the latter, when + he understood the situation, was reluctant to do so. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline’ll be real glad to see you, Jim, I know,” the + captain said. “And I want you to stay for my sake. Between pacifyin’ + the Commodore and frettin’ over what couldn’t possibly happen, + I was half dead of the fidgets. Stay and cheer me up, there’s a good + feller. I’d just about reached the stage where I had the girl and + boy stove to flinders under that pesky auto. I’d even begun to + figger on notifyin’ the undertaker. Tell me<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> I’m an old fool + and then talk about somethin’ else. They’ll be here any + minute.” + </p> + <p> + But a good many minutes passed, and still they did not come. Pearson, + aware of his companion’s growing anxiety, chatted of the novel, of + the people at the boarding house, of anything and everything he could + think of likely to divert attention from the one important topic. The + answers he received were more and more brief and absent. At last, when + Edwards again appeared, appealingly mute, at the entrance to the dining + room, Captain Elisha, with a sigh which was almost a groan, surrendered. + </p> + <p> + “I guess,” he said, reluctantly, “I guess, Jim, there + ain’t any use waitin’ any longer. Somethin’s kept + ’em, and they won’t be here for dinner. You and I’ll set + down and eat—though I ain’t got the appetite I cal’lated + to have.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson had dined hours before, but he followed his friend, resolved to + please the latter by going through the form of pretending to eat. + </p> + <p> + They sat down together. Captain Elisha, with a rueful smile, pointed to + the floral centerpiece. + </p> + <p> + “There’s your posies, Jim,” he observed. “Look + pretty, don’t they. She ain’t seen ’em yet, but she’ll + like ’em when she does. And that over there, is her present from me. + Stevie gave her a box of gloves, and I expect, from what Mrs. Dunn hinted, + that she and that son of hers gave her somethin’ fine. She’ll + show us when she gets here. What’s this, Commodore? Oysters, hey? + Well, they ought to taste like home. They’re ‘Cape Cods’; + I wouldn’t have anything else.” + </p> + <p> + “We won’t touch the birthday cake, Jim,” he added, a + little later. “She’s got to cut that herself.” + </p> + <p> + The soup was only lukewarm, but neither of them<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> commented on the fact. + The captain had scarcely tasted of his, when he paused, his spoon in air. + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” he exclaimed. “Listen! What’s that? By the + everlastin’, it <i>is</i>. Here they are, at <i>last</i>!” + </p> + <p> + He sprang up with such enthusiasm that his chair tipped backwards against + the butler’s devoted shins. Pearson, almost as much pleased, also + rose. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha paid scant attention to the chair incident. + </p> + <p> + “What are you waitin’ for?” he demanded, whirling on + Edwards, who was righting the chair with one hand and rubbing his knee + with the other. “Don’t you hear ’em at the door? Let + ’em in!” + </p> + <p> + He reached the library first, his friend following more leisurely. + Caroline and Stephen had just entered. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” he cried, in his quarter-deck voice, his face beaming + with relief and delight, “you <i>are</i> here, ain’t you! I + begun to think.... Why, what’s the matter?” + </p> + <p> + The question was addressed to Stephen, who stood nearest to him. The boy + did not deign to reply. With a contemptuous grunt, he turned scornfully + away from his guardian. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Caroline?” demanded Captain Elisha. “<i>Has</i> + anything happened?” + </p> + <p> + The girl looked coldly at him. A new brooch—Mrs. Corcoran Dunn’s + birthday gift—sparkled at her throat. + </p> + <p> + “No accident has happened, if that is what you mean,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “But—why, yes, that was what I meant. You was so awful late, + and you know you said you’d be home for dinner, so—” + </p> + <p> + “I changed my mind. Come, Steve.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>She + turned to leave the room. Pearson, at that moment, entered it. Stephen saw + him first. + </p> + <p> + “<i>What</i>?” he cried. “Well, of all the nerve! Look, + Caro!” + </p> + <p> + “Jim—Mr. Pearson, I mean—ran in a few minutes ago,” + explained Captain Elisha, bewildered and stammering. “He thought of + course we’d had dinner and—and—he just wanted to wish + you many happy returns, Caroline.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson had extended his hand and a “Good evening” was on his + lips. Stephen’s strange behavior and language caused him to halt. He + flushed, awkward, surprised, and indignant. + </p> + <p> + Caroline turned and saw him. She started, and her cheeks also grew + crimson. Then, recovering, she looked him full in the face, and + deliberately and disdainfully turned her back. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Steve!” she said again, and walked from the room. + </p> + <p> + Her brother hesitated, glared at Pearson, and then stalked haughtily after + her. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha’s bewilderment was supreme. He stared, open-mouthed, + after his nephew and niece, and then turned slowly to his friend. + </p> + <p> + “What on earth, Jim,” he stammered. “What’s it <i>mean</i>?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson shrugged his shoulders. “I think I know what it means,” + he said. “I presume that Miss Warren and her brother have learned of + my trouble with their father.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? No! you don’t think <i>that’s</i> it.” + </p> + <p> + “I think there’s no doubt of it.” + </p> + <p> + “But how?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know how. What I do know is that I should<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> not + have come here. I felt it and, if you will remember, I said so. I was a + fool. Good night, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + Hot and furiously angry at his own indecision which had placed him in this + humiliating situation, he was striding towards the hall. Captain Elisha + seized his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Stay where you are, Jim!” he commanded. “If the trouble’s + what you think it is, I’m more to blame than anybody else, and you + sha’n’t leave this house till I’ve done my best to + square you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you; but I don’t wish to be ‘squared.’ I’ve + done nothing to be ashamed of, and I have borne as many insults as I can + stand. I’m going.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you ain’t. Not yet. I want you to stay.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment Stephen’s voice reached them from the adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you I shall, Caro!” it proclaimed, fiercely. “Do + you suppose I’m going to permit that fellow to come here again—or + to go until he is made to understand what we think of him and why? No, by + gad! I’m the man of this family, and I’ll tell him a few + things.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson’s jaw set grimly. + </p> + <p> + “You may let go of my wrist, Captain Warren,” he said; “I’ll + stay.” + </p> + <p> + Possibly Stephen’s intense desire to prove his manliness made him + self-conscious. At any rate, he never appeared more ridiculously boyish + than when, an instant later, he marched into the library and confronted + his uncle and Pearson. + </p> + <p> + “I—I want to say—” he began, majestically; “I + want to say—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, choking, and brandished his fist. + </p> + <p> + “I want to say—” he began again. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>“All + right, Stevie,” interrupted the captain, dryly, “then I’d + say it if I was you. I guess it’s time you did.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to—to tell that fellow <i>there</i>,” with a + vicious stab of his forefinger in the direction of Pearson, “that I + consider him an—an ingrate—and a scoundrel—and a + miserable—” + </p> + <p> + “Steady!” Captain Elisha’s interruption was sharp this + time. “Steady now! Leave out the pet names. What is it you’ve + got to tell?” + </p> + <p> + “I—my sister and I have found out what a scoundrel he is, that’s + what! We’ve learned of the lies he wrote about father. We know that + he was responsible for all that cowardly, lying stuff in the <i>Planet</i>—all + that about the Trolley Combine. And we don’t intend that he shall + sneak into this house again. If he was the least part of a man, he would + never have come.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Warren—” began Pearson, stepping forward. The + captain interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Jim!” he said. “Just a minute now. You’ve + learned somethin’, you say, Stevie. The Dunns told you, I s’pose.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind who told me!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t—much. But I guess we’d better have a + clear understandin’, all of us. Caroline, will you come in here, + please?” + </p> + <p> + He stepped toward the door. Stephen sprang in front of him. + </p> + <p> + “My sister doesn’t intend to cheapen herself by entering that + man’s presence,” he declared, hotly. “I’ll deal + with him, myself!” + </p> + <p> + “All right. But I guess she’d better be here, just the same. + Caroline, I want you.” + </p> + <p> + “She sha’n’t come!” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>“Yes, + she shall. Caroline!” + </p> + <p> + The boy would have detained him, but he pushed him firmly aside and walked + toward the door. Before he reached it, however, his niece appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” she said, coldly. “What is it you want of me?” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to hear Mr. Pearson’s side of this business—and + mine—before you do anything you’ll be sorry for.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I’ve heard quite enough of Mr. Pearson already. + Nothing he can say or do will make me more sorry than I am, or humiliate + me more than the fact that I have treated him as a friend.” + </p> + <p> + The icy contempt in her tone was cutting. Pearson’s face was white, + but he spoke clearly and with deliberation. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Warren,” he said, “I must insist that you listen + for another moment. I owe you an apology for—” + </p> + <p> + “Apology!” broke in Stephen, with a scornful laugh. “Apology! + Well, by gad! Just hear that, Caro!” + </p> + <p> + The girl’s lip curled. “I do not wish to hear your apology,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “But I wish you to hear it. Not for my attitude in the Trolley + matter, nor for what I published in the <i>Planet</i>. Nor for my part in + the disagreement with your father. I wrote the truth and nothing more. I + considered it right then—I told your father so—and I have not + changed my mind. I should act exactly the same under similar + circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + “You blackguard!” shouted Stephen. Pearson ignored him + utterly. + </p> + <p> + “I do owe you an apology,” he continued, “for coming + here, as I have done, knowing that you were ignorant of the affair. I + believe now that you are misinformed<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> as to the facts, but + that is immaterial. You should have been told of my trouble with Mr. + Warren. I should have insisted upon it. That I did not do so is my fault + and I apologize; but for that only. Good evening.” + </p> + <p> + He shook himself free from the captain’s grasp, bowed to the trio, + and left the room. An instant later the outer door closed behind him. + </p> + <p> + Caroline turned to her brother. “Come, Steve,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Stay right where you are!” Captain Elisha did not request + now, he commanded. “Stevie, stand still. Caroline, I want to talk to + you.” + </p> + <p> + The girl hesitated. She had never been spoken to in that tone before. Her + pride had been already deeply wounded by what she had learned that + afternoon; she was fiercely resentful, angry, and rebellious. She was sure + she never hated anyone as she did this man who ordered her to stay and + listen to him. But—she stayed. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline,” said Captain Elisha, after a moment of silence, + “I presume likely—of course I don’t know for sartin, but + I presume likely it’s Mrs. Dunn and that son of hers who’ve + told you what you think you know.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t concern you who told us!” blustered Stephen, + pushing forward. He might have been a fly buzzing on the wall for all the + attention his uncle paid him. + </p> + <p> + “I presume likely the Dunns told you, Caroline,” he repeated, + calmly. + </p> + <p> + His niece met his gaze stubbornly. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she answered, “and if they did? Wasn’t it + necessary we should know it? Oh!” with a shudder of disgust, “I + wish I could make you understand how ashamed I feel—how <i>wicked</i> + and ashamed I feel that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" + id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> I—<i>I</i> should have disgraced + father’s memory by.... Oh, but there! I can’t! Yes; Mrs. Dunn + and Malcolm did tell us—many things. Thank God that we <i>have</i> + friends to tell us the truth!” + </p> + <p> + “Amen!” quietly. “I’ll say amen to that, Caroline, + any time. Only I want you to be sure those you call friends are real ones + and that the truths they tell ain’t like the bait on a fishhook, put + on <i>for</i> bait and just thick enough to cover the barb.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to insinuate—” screamed the irrepressible + nephew, wild at being so completely ignored. His uncle again paid not the + slightest attention. + </p> + <p> + “But that ain’t neither here nor there now,” he went on. + “Caroline, Mr. Pearson just told you that his coming to this house + without tellin’ you fust of his quarrel with ’Bije was his + fault. That ain’t so. The fault was mine altogether. He told me the + whole story; told me that he hadn’t called since it happened, on + that very account. And I took the whole responsibility and <i>asked</i> + him to come. I did! Do you know why?” + </p> + <p> + If he expected an answer none was given. Caroline’s lids drooped + disdainfully. “Steve,” she said, “let us go.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop! You’ll stay here until I finish. I want to say that I + didn’t tell you about the Trolley fuss because I wanted you to learn + some things for yourself. I wanted you to know Mr. Pearson—to find + out what sort of man he was afore you judged him. Then, when you had known + him long enough to understand he wasn’t a liar and a blackguard, and + all that Steve has called him, I was goin’ to tell you the whole + truth, not a part of it. And, after that, I was goin’ to let you + decide for yourself what to do. I’m a lot older than you are; I’ve + mixed with all sorts of folks; I’m past the stage where<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> I can + be fooled by—by false hair or soft soap. You can’t pour sweet + oil over a herrin’ and make me believe it’s a sardine. I know + the Pearson stock. I’ve sailed over a heap of salt water with one of + the family. And I’ve kept my eyes open since I’ve run acrost + this particular member. And I knew your father, too, Caroline Warren. And + I say to you now that, knowin’ Jim Pearson and ’Bije Warren—yes, + and knowin’ the rights and wrongs of that Trolley business quite as + well as Malcolm Dunn or anybody else—I say to you that, although + ’Bije was my brother, I’d bet my life that Jim had all the + right on his side. There! that’s the truth, and no hook underneath + it. And some day you’ll realize it, too.” + </p> + <p> + He had spoken with great vehemence. Now he took a handkerchief from his + pocket and wiped his forehead. When he again looked at his niece, he found + her staring intently at him; and her eyes blazed. + </p> + <p> + “Have you quite finished—now?” she demanded. “Steve, + be quiet!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, I guess so, pretty nigh. I s’pose there ain’t + much use to say more. If I was to tell you that I’ve tried to do for + you and Steve in this—same as in everything else since I took this + job—as if you were my own children, you wouldn’t believe it. + If I was to tell you, Caroline, that I’d come to think an awful lot + of you, you wouldn’t believe that, either. I did hope that since our + other misunderstandin’ was cleared up, and you found I wa’n’t + what you thought I was, you’d come to me and ask questions afore + passin’ judgment; but perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + And now she interrupted, bursting out at him in a blast of scorn which + took his breath away. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, stop! stop!” she cried. “Don’t say any more.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> You + have insulted father’s memory, and defended the man who slandered + him. Isn’t that enough? Why must you go on to prove yourself a + greater hypocrite? We learned, my brother and I, to-day more than the + truth concerning your <i>friend</i>. We learned that you have lied—yes, + lied—and—” + </p> + <p> + “Steady, Caroline! be careful. I wouldn’t say what I might be + sorry for later.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry! Captain Warren, you spoke of my misjudging you. I thought I + had, and I was sorry. To-day I learned that your attitude in that affair + was a lie like the rest. <i>You</i> did not pay for Mr. Moriarty’s + accident. Mr. Dunn’s money paid those bills. And you allowed the + family—and me—to thank <i>you</i> for your generosity. Oh, I’m + ashamed to be near you!” + </p> + <p> + “There! There! Caroline, be still. I—” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not be still. I have been still altogether too long. You + are our guardian. We can’t help that, I suppose. Father asked you to + be that, for some reason; but did he ask you to <i>live</i> here where you + are not wanted? To shame us before our friends, ladies and gentlemen so + far above you in every way? And to try to poison our minds against them + and sneer at them when they are kind to us and even try to be kind to you? + No, he did not! Oh, I’m sick of it all! your deceit and your + hypocritical speeches and your pretended love for us. <i>Love</i>! Oh, if + I could say something that would make you understand how thoroughly we + despise you, and how your presence, ever since you forced it upon Steve + and me, has disgraced us! If I only could! I—I—” + </p> + <p> + She had been near to tears ever since Mrs. Corcoran Dunn, in the kindness + of her heart, told her the “truth” that afternoon. But pride + and indignation had prevented<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" + id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> her giving way. Now, however, she broke + down. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—oh, Steve!” she cried, and, turning to her brother, + sobbed hysterically on his shoulder. “Oh, Steve, what shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + Stephen put his arm about her waist. “It’s all right, Sis,” + he said soothingly. “Don’t cry before <i>him</i>! I guess,” + with a glance at his uncle, “you’ve said enough to make even + him understand—at last.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha looked gravely at the pair. “I guess you have,” + he said slowly. “I guess you have, Caroline. Anyhow, I can’t + think offhand of anything you’ve left out. I could explain some + things, but what’s the use? And,” with a sigh, “you may + be right in a way. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come here to live. If + you’d only told me plain afore just how you felt, I’d—maybe + I’d—but there! I didn’t know—I didn’t know. + You see, I thought.... However, I guess that part of your troubles is + over. But,” he added, firmly, “wherever I am, or wherever I + go, you must understand that I’m your guardian, just the same. I + considered a long spell afore I took the place, and I never abandoned a + ship yet, once I took command of her. And I’ll stick to this one! + Yes, sir! I’ll stick to it in spite of the devil—or the Dunns, + either. Till you and your brother are of age I’m goin’ to look + out for you and your interests and your money; and nothin’ nor + nobody shall stop me. As for forcin’ my company on you, though, that + well, that’s different. I cal’late you won’t have to + worry any more. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + He thrust his hands into his pockets and walked slowly from the library. + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XIV + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">S</span>tephen, + the “man of the family,” was the only member of the household, + servants excepted, who slept soundly that night. Conscious of having done + his duty in the affair with Pearson and his guardian, and somewhat + fatigued by the disagreeable task of soothing his hysterical sister, he + was slumbering peacefully at nine the next morning when awakened by a + series of raps on his bedroom door. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! What? Well, what is it?” he demanded, testily opening his + eyes. “Edwards, is that you? What the devil do you mean by making + such a row?” + </p> + <p> + The voice which answered was not the butler’s, but Caroline’s. + </p> + <p> + “Steve! Oh, Steve!” she cried. “Do get up and come out! + Come, quick!” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter?” inquired the young man, sitting up + in bed. “Is the house afire?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! But do come! I want you. Something has happened.” + </p> + <p> + “Happened? What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t tell you here. Please dress and come to me as quick + as you can.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen, wondering and somewhat alarmed, dressed with unusual promptitude + and obeyed. He found his sister standing by the library window, a letter + in her hand. She looked troubled and anxious. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Caro,” observed the boy, “here I am. What in the + world’s up now?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>She + turned. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Steve!” she exclaimed, “he’s gone!” + </p> + <p> + “Gone? Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Warren. He’s gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Gone? Gone where? Caro, you don’t mean he’s—<i>dead</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he’s gone—gone and left us.” + </p> + <p> + Her brother’s expression changed to incredulous joy. + </p> + <p> + “What?” he shouted. “You mean he’s quit? Cleared + out? Left here for good?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah! Excuse me while I gloat! Hurrah! We got it through his + skull at last! Is it possible? But—but hold on! Perhaps it’s + too good to be true. Are you sure? How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “He says so. See.” + </p> + <p> + She handed him the letter. It was addressed to “My dear Caroline” + and in it Captain Elisha stated his intentions succinctly. After the plain + speaking of the previous evening he should not, of course, burden them + with his society any longer. He was leaving that morning, and, as soon as + he “located permanent moorings somewhere else” would notify + his niece and nephew of his whereabouts. + </p> + <div class="blockquot"> + <p> + “For,” he added, “as I told you, although I shall not + impose my company on you, I am your guardian same as ever. I will see + that your allowance comes to you regular, including enough for all + household bills and pay for the hired help and so on. If you need any + extras at any time let me know and, if they seem to me right and proper, + I will send money for them. You will stay where you are, Caroline, and + Stevie must go back to college right away. Tell him I say so, and if he + does not I shall begin reducing his allowance according as I wrote<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> + him. He will understand what I mean. I guess that is all until I send + you my address and any other sailing orders that seem necessary to me + then. And, Caroline, I want you and Stevie to feel that I am your anchor + to windward, and when you get in a tight place, if you ever do, you can + depend on me. Last night’s talk has no bearing on that whatever. + Good-by, then, until my next. + </p> + </div> + <p class="right"> + “<span class="smcap">ELISHA WARREN</span>.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen read this screed to the end, then crumpled it in his fist and + threw it angrily on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “The nerve!” he exclaimed. “He seems to think I’m + a sailor on one of his ships, to be ordered around as he sees fit. I’ll + go back to college when I’m good and ready—not before.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline shook her head. “Oh, no!” she said. “You must + go to-day. He’s right, Steve; it’s the thing for you to do. He + and I were agreed as to that. And you wouldn’t stay and make it + harder for me, would you, dear?” + </p> + <p> + He growled a reluctant assent. “I suppose I shall have to go,” + he said, sullenly. “My allowance is too beastly small to have him + cutting it; and the old shark would do that very thing; he’d take + delight in doing it, confound him! Well, he knows what we think of him, + that’s some comfort.” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer. He looked at her curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Why, hang it all, Caro!” he exclaimed in disgust; “what + ails you? Blessed if I sha’n’t begin to believe you’re + sorry he’s gone. You act as if you were.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I’m not. Of course I’m not. I’m—I’m + glad. He couldn’t stay, of course. But I’m afraid—I can’t + help feeling that you and I were too harsh last night. We said things—dreadful + things—” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>“Be + hanged! We didn’t say half enough. Oh, don’t be a fool, Caro! + I was just beginning to be proud of your grit. And now you want to take it + all back. Honestly, girls are the limit! You don’t know your own + minds for twelve consecutive hours. Answer me now! <i>Are</i> you sorry he’s + gone?” + </p> + <p> + “No. No, I’m not, really. But I—I feel somehow as if—as + if everything was on my shoulders. You’re going away, and he’s + gone, and—What is it, Edwards?” + </p> + <p> + The butler entered, with a small parcel in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Miss Caroline,” he said. “I should + have given you this last evening. It was by your place at the table. I + think Captain Warren put it there, miss.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline took the parcel and looked at it wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “For me?” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Miss Caroline. It is marked with your name. And breakfast is + served, when you and Mr. Stephen are ready.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed and retired. The girl sat turning the little white box in her + hands. + </p> + <p> + “<i>He</i> left it for me,” she said. “What can it be?” + </p> + <p> + Her brother snatched it impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you open it and find out?” he demanded. + “Perhaps it’s his latch key. Here! I’ll do it myself.” + </p> + <p> + He cut the cord and removed the cover of the little box. Inside was the + jeweler’s leather case. He took it out and pressed the spring. The + cover flew up. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” he whistled. “It’s a present. And rather a + decent one, too, by gad! Look, Caro!” + </p> + <p> + He handed her the open case. She looked at the chain, spread carefully on + the white satin lining. Inside the cover was fitted a card. She turned it + over and read: “To my niece, Caroline. With wishes for many<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> happy + returns, and much love, from her Uncle Elisha Warren.” + </p> + <p> + She sat gazing at the card. Stephen bent down, read the inscription, and + then looked up into her face. + </p> + <p> + “<i>What</i>?” he cried. “I believe—You’re + not <i>crying</i> Well, I’ll be hanged! Sis, you <i>are</i> a fool!” + </p> + <hr class="medium" /> + <p> + The weather that morning was fine and clear. James Pearson, standing by + the window of his rooms at the boarding house, looking out at the + snow-covered roofs sparkling in the sun, was miserable. When he retired + the night before it was with a solemn oath to forget Caroline Warren + altogether; to put her and her father and the young cad, her brother, + utterly from his mind, never to be thought of again. As a preliminary step + in this direction, he began, the moment his head touched the pillow, to + review, for the fiftieth time, the humiliating scene in the library, to + think of things he should have said, and—worse than all—to + recall, word for word, the things she had said to him. In this cheerful + occupation he passed hours before falling asleep. And, when he woke, it + was to begin all over again. + </p> + <p> + Why—<i>why</i> had he been so weak as to yield to Captain Elisha’s + advice? Why had he not acted like a sensible, self-respecting man, done + what he knew was right, and persisted in his refusal to visit the Warrens? + Why? Because he was an idiot, of course—a hopeless idiot, who had + got exactly what he deserved! Which bit of philosophy did not help make + his reflections less bitter. + </p> + <p> + He went down to breakfast when the bell rang, but his appetite was + missing, and he replied only in monosyllables to the remarks addressed to + him by his fellow boarders. Mrs. Hepton, the landlady, noticed the change. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>“You + not ill, Mr. Pearson, I hope?” she queried. “I do hope you + haven’t got cold, sleeping with your windows wide open, as you say + you do. Fresh air is a good thing, in moderation, but one should be + careful. Don’t you think so, Mr. Carson?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Carson was a thin little man, a bachelor, who occupied the smallest + room on the third story. He was a clerk in a department store, and his + board was generally in arrears. Therefore, when Mrs. Hepton expressed an + opinion he made it a point to agree with her. In this instance, however, + he merely grunted. + </p> + <p> + “I say fresh air in one’s sleeping room is a good thing in + moderation. Don’t you think so, Mr. Carson?” repeated the + landlady. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Carson rolled up his napkin and inserted it in the ring. His board, as + it happened, was paid in full to date. Also, although he had not yet + declared his intention, he intended changing lodgings at the end of the + week. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he sniffed, with sarcasm, “it may be. I couldn’t + get none in <i>my</i> room if I wanted it, so I can’t say sure. + Morning.” + </p> + <p> + He departed hurriedly. Mrs. Hepton looked disconcerted. Mrs. Van Winkle + Ruggles smiled meaningly across the table at Miss Sherborne, who smiled + back. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ludlow, the bookseller, quietly observed that he hoped Mr. Pearson had + not gotten cold. Colds were prevalent at this time of the year. “‘These + are the days when the Genius of the weather sits in mournful meditation on + the threshold,’ as Mr. Dickens tells us,” he added. “I + presume he sits on the sills of open windows, also.” + </p> + <p> + The wife of the Mr. Dickens there present pricked up her ears. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>“When + did you write that, ‘C.’ dear?” she asked, turning to + her husband. “I remember it perfectly, of course, but I have + forgotten, for the moment, in which of your writings it appears.” + </p> + <p> + The illustrious one’s mouth being occupied with a section of + scorching hot waffle, he was spared the necessity of confession. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me,” said Mr. Ludlow. “I was not quoting our Mr. + Dickens this time, but his famous namesake.” + </p> + <p> + The great “C.” drowned the waffle with a swallow of water. + </p> + <p> + “Maria,” he snapped, “don’t be so foolish. Ludlow + quotes from—er—‘Bleak House.’ I have written some + things—er—similar, but not that. Why don’t you pass the + syrup?” + </p> + <p> + The bookseller, who was under the impression that he had quoted from the + “Christmas Carol,” merely smiled and remained silent. + </p> + <p> + “My father, the Senator,” began Mrs. Van Winkle Ruggles, + “was troubled with colds during his political career. I remember his + saying that the Senate Chamber at the Capitol was extremely draughty. + Possibly Mr. Pearson’s ailment does come from sleeping in a draught. + Not that father was accustomed to <i>sleep</i> during the sessions—Oh, + dear, no! not that, of course. How absurd!” + </p> + <p> + She laughed gayly. Pearson, who seemed to think it time to say something, + declared that, so far as he knew, he had no cold or any symptoms of one. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mrs. Hepton, with conviction, “something + ails you, I know. We can all see it; can’t we?” turning to the + rest of the company. “Why, you’ve scarcely spoken since you + sat down at the table. And you’ve eaten next to nothing. Perhaps + there is some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg + 228]</a></span> trouble, something on your mind which is worrying you. Oh, + I <i>hope</i> not!” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt it is the preoccupation of genius,” remarked Mrs. + Dickens. “I’m sure it must be that. When ‘C.’ is + engaged with some particularly trying literary problem he frequently loses + all his appetite and does not speak for hours together. Isn’t it so, + dear?” + </p> + <p> + “C.,” who was painfully conscious that he might have made a + miscue in the matter of the quotation, answered sharply. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said. “Not at all. Don’t be silly, Maria.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Sherborne clasped her hands. “<i>I</i> know!” she + exclaimed in mock rapture; “Mr. Pearson is in love!” + </p> + <p> + This suggestion was received with applause and hilarity. Pearson pushed + back his chair and rose. + </p> + <p> + “I’m much obliged for this outburst of sympathy,” he + observed, dryly. “But, as I say, I’m perfectly well, and the + other diagnoses are too flattering to be true. Good morning.” + </p> + <p> + Back in his room he seated himself at his desk, took the manuscript of his + novel from the drawer, and sat moodily staring at it. He was in no mood + for work. The very sight of the typewritten page disgusted him. As he now + felt, the months spent on the story were time wasted. It was ridiculous + for him to attempt such a thing; or to believe that he could carry it + through successfully; or to dream that he would ever be anything better + than a literary hack, a cheap edition of “C.” Dickens, minus + the latter’s colossal self-satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + He was still sitting there, twirling an idle pencil between his fingers, + when he heard steps outside his door. Someone knocked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is it?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + His landlady answered. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>“Mr. + Pearson,” she said, “may I see you?” + </p> + <p> + He threw down the pencil and, rising, walked to the door and opened it. + Mrs. Hepton was waiting in the hall. She seemed excited. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pearson,” she said, “will you step downstairs with + me for a moment? I have a surprise for you.” + </p> + <p> + “A surprise? What sort of a surprise?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a pleasant one. At least I think it is going to be pleasant for + all of us. But I’m not going to tell you what it is. You must come + down and see for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + She led the way downstairs, the young man following her, wondering what + the surprise might be, and fairly certain it, nor anything else, could be + pleasant on that day. + </p> + <p> + He supposed, of course, that he must descend to the parlor to reach the + solution of the mystery, but he was mistaken. On the second floor Mrs. + Hepton stopped and pointed. + </p> + <p> + “It’s in there,” she said, pointing. + </p> + <p> + “There” was the room formerly occupied by Mr. Saks, the + long-haired artist. Since his departure it had been vacant. Pearson looked + at the closed door and then at the lady. + </p> + <p> + “A surprise for me in <i>there</i>?” he repeated. “What’s + the joke, Mrs. Hepton?” + </p> + <p> + By way of answer she took him by the arm, and, leading him to the door, + threw the latter open. + </p> + <p> + “Here he is!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Jim!” hailed Captain Elisha Warren, cheerfully. + “Ship ahoy! Glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + He was standing in the middle of the room, his hat on the table and his + hands in his pockets. + </p> + <p> + Pearson was surprised; there was no doubt of that—not<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> so + much at the sight of his friend—he had expected to see or hear from + the captain before the day was over—as at seeing him in that room. + He could not understand what he was doing there. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha noted his bewildered expression, and chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “Come aboard, Jim!” he commanded. “Come in and inspect. + I’ll see you later, Mrs. Hepton,” he added, “and give + you my final word. I want to hold officer’s council with Mr. Pearson + here fust.” + </p> + <p> + The landlady accepted the broad hint and turned to go. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” she said, “but I do hope for all our sakes + that word will be <i>yes</i>, Mr. Warren—Excuse me, it is Captain + Warren, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “It used to be, yes, ma’am. And at home it is yet. ’Round + here I’ve learned to be like a barroom poll-parrot, ready to answer + to most everything. There!” as the door closed after her; “now + we can be more private. Set down, Jim! How are you, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson sat down mechanically. “I’m well enough—everything + considered,” he replied, slowly. “But what—what are you + in here for? I don’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + “You will in a minute. What do you think of this—er—saloon + cabin?” with a comprehensive sweep of his arm. + </p> + <p> + The room was of fair size, furnished in a nondescript, boarding-house + fashion, and with two windows overlooking the little back yard of the + house and those of the other adjoining it. Each yard contained an + assortment of ash cans, and there was an astonishing number of clothes + lines, each fluttering a variety of garments peculiarly personal to their + respective owners. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty snug, ain’t it?” continued the captain.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> + “Not exactly up to that I’ve been luxuriatin’ in lately, + but more fittin’ to my build and class than that was, I shouldn’t + wonder. No Corot paintin’s nor five thousand dollar tintypes of dory + codders; but I can manage to worry along without them, if I try hard. Neat + but not gaudy, I call it—as the architect feller said about his + plans for the addition to the county jail at Ostable. Hey? Ho! Ho!” + </p> + <p> + Pearson began to get a clue to the situation. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Warren,” he demanded, “have you—Do you + mean to say you’ve taken this room to <i>live</i> in?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I ain’t said all that yet. I wanted to talk with you a + little afore I said it. But that was my idea, if you and I agreed on + sartin matters.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve come here to live! You’ve left your—your + niece’s house?” + </p> + <p> + “Ya-as, I’ve left. That is, I left the way the Irishman left + the stable where they kept the mule. He said there was all out doors in + front of him and only two feet behind. That’s about the way ’twas + with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Have your nephew and niece—” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. They hinted that my room was better than my company, and, + take it by and large, I guess they was right for the present, anyhow. I + set up till three o’clock thinkin’ it over, and then I decided + to get out afore breakfast this mornin’. I didn’t wait for any + good-bys. They’d been said, or all I cared to hear”—Captain + Elisha’s smile disappeared for an instant—“last evenin’. + The dose was sort of bitter, but it had the necessary effect. At any rate, + I didn’t hanker for another one. I remembered what your landlady + told me when I was here afore, about this stateroom bein’ vacated, + and I come down to look at it. It suits me well enough; seems like a + decent moorin’s for an old salt<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> water derelict like me; + the price is reasonable, and I guess likely I’ll take it. I <i>guess</i> + I will.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you guess? By George, I hope you will!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you? I’m much obliged. I didn’t know but after last + night, after the scrape I got you into, you might feel—well, sort of + as if you’d seen enough of me.” + </p> + <p> + The young man smiled bitterly. “It wasn’t your fault,” + he said. “It was mine entirely. I’m quite old enough to decide + matters for myself, and I should have decided as my reason, and not my + inclinations, told me. You weren’t to blame.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I was. If you’re old enough, I’m <i>too</i> old, I + cal’late. But I did think—However, there’s no use goin’ + over that. I ask your pardon, Jim. And you don’t hold any grudge?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I don’t. I may be a fool—I guess I am—but + not that kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks. Well, there’s one objection out of the way, then, + only I don’t want you to think that I’ve hove overboard that + ‘responsibility’ I was so easy and fresh about takin’ on + my shoulders. It’s there yet; and I’ll see you squared with + Caroline afore this v’yage is over, if I live.” + </p> + <p> + His friend frowned. + </p> + <p> + “You needn’t mind,” he said. “I prefer that you + drop the whole miserable business.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, maybe, but—Jim, you’ve taken hold of these + electric batteries that doctors have sometimes? It’s awful easy to + grab the handles of one of those contraptions, but when you want to drop + ’em you can’t. They don’t drop easy. I took hold of the + handles of ’Bije’s affairs, and, though it might be pleasanter + to drop ’em, I can’t—or I won’t.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>“Then + you’re leaving your nephew and niece doesn’t mean that you’ve + given up the guardianship?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha’s jaw set squarely. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t remember sayin’ that it did,” he + answered, with decision. Then, his good-nature returning, he added, + “And now, Jim, I’d like your opinion of these new quarters + that I may take. What do you think of ’em? Come to the window and + take a look at the scenery.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson joined him at the window. The captain waved toward the + clothes-lines and grinned. + </p> + <p> + “Looks as if there was some kind of jubilee, don’t it,” + he observed. “Every craft in sight has strung the colors.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson laughed. Then he said: + </p> + <p> + “Captain, I think the room will do. It isn’t palatial, but one + can live in worse quarters, as I know from experience.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. Well, Jim, there’s just one thing more. Have I disgraced + you a good deal, bein’ around with you and chummin’ in with + you the way I have? That is, do you <i>think</i> I’ve disgraced you? + Are you ashamed of me?” + </p> + <p> + “I? Ashamed of <i>you</i>? You’re joking!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I’m serious. Understand now, I’m not apologizin’. + My ways are my ways, and I think they’re just as good as the next + feller’s, whether he’s from South Denboro or—well, Broad + Street. I’ve got a habit of thinkin’ for myself and actin’ + for myself, and when I take off my hat it’s to a bigger <i>man</i> + than I am and not to a more stylish hat. But, since I’ve lived here + in New York, I’ve learned that, with a whole lot of folks, hats + themselves count more than what’s underneath ’em. I haven’t + changed mine, and I ain’t goin’ to. Now, with that plain and + understood, do you want me to live here,<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> in the same house with + you? I ain’t fishin’ for compliments. I want an honest answer.” + </p> + <p> + He got it. Pearson looked him squarely in the eye. + </p> + <p> + “I do,” he said. “I like you, and I don’t care a + damn about your hat. Is that plain?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha’s reply was delivered over the balusters in the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Hi!” he called. “Hi, Mrs. Hepton.” + </p> + <p> + The landlady had been anxiously waiting. She ran from the dining room to + the foot of the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” she cried. “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a bargain,” said the captain. “I’m + ready to engage passage.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XV + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span>hus + Captain Elisha entered another of New York’s “circles,” + that which centered at Mrs. Hepton’s boarding house. Within a week + he was as much a part of it as if he had lived there for years. At lunch, + on the day of his arrival, he made his appearance at the table in company + with Pearson, and when the landlady exultantly announced that he was to be + “one of our little party” thereafter, he received and replied + to the welcoming salutations of his fellow boarders with unruffled + serenity. + </p> + <p> + “How could I help it?” he asked. “Human nature’s + liable to temptation, they tell us. The flavor of that luncheon we had + last time I was here has been hangin’ ’round the edges of my + mouth and tantalizin’ my memory ever since.” + </p> + <p> + “We had a souffle that noon, if I remember correctly, Captain,” + observed the flattered Mrs. Hepton. + </p> + <p> + “Did you? Well, I declare! I’d have sworn ’twas a + biled-dinner hash. Knew ’twas better than any I ever ate afore, but + I’d have bet ’twas hash, just the same. Tut! tut! tut! Now, + honest, Mrs. Hepton, ain’t this—er—whatever-you-call-it + a close relation—a sort of hash with its city clothes on, hey?” + </p> + <p> + The landlady admitted that a souffle was something not unlike a hash. + Captain Elisha nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I thought so,” he declared. “I was sartin sure I couldn’t + be mistaken. What is it used to be in the song book? ‘You can smash—you + can—’ Well, I don’t remember.<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> Somethin’ about + your bein’ able to smash the vase if you wanted to, but the smell of + the posies was there yet.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ludlow, the bookseller, supplied the quotation. + </p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="i4">“‘You may break, you may shatter</span><br /> + <span class="i6">The vase if you will,</span><br /> <span class="i4">But + the scent of the roses</span><br /> <span class="i6">Will cling to it + still,’”</span> + </div> + </div> + <p> + he said, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “That’s it. Much obliged. You can warm up and rechristen the + hash if you will; but the corned beef and cabbage stay right on deck. Ain’t + that so, Mr. Dickens?” + </p> + <p> + The illustrious “C.” bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Moore?” he observed, with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That’s what <i>I</i> said—‘More!’ Said + it twice, I believe. Glad you agree with me. The hymn says that weakness + is sin, but there’s no sin in havin’ a weakness for + corned-beef hash.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Sherborne and Mrs. Van Winkle Ruggles were at first inclined to snub + the new boarder, considering him a country boor whose presence in their + select society was almost an insult. The captain did not seem to notice + their hints or sneers, although Pearson grew red and wrathful. + </p> + <p> + “Laura, my dear,” said Mrs. Ruggles, addressing the teacher of + vocal culture, “don’t you feel quite rural to-day? Almost as + if you were visiting the country?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, indeed,” replied Miss Sherborne. “Refreshing, isn’t + it? Ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + “It is if one cares for such things. I am afraid <i>I</i> don’t + appreciate them. They may be well enough in their place, but—” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>She + finished with a shrug of her shoulders. Captain Elisha smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am,” he said politely, joining in the + conversation; “that’s what the boy said about the cooky crumbs + in the bed. You don’t care for the country, I take it, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “I do <i>not</i>!” + </p> + <p> + “So? Well, it’s a mercy we don’t think alike; even + Heaven would be crowded if we did—hey? You didn’t come from + the country, either?” turning to Miss Sherborne. + </p> + <p> + The young lady would have liked to answer with an uncompromising negative. + Truth and the fact that some of those present were acquainted with it + compelled her to forego this pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “I was born in a—a small town,” she answered coldly. + “But I came to the city as soon as I possibly could.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Well, I came when I couldn’t possibly stay away. We + can agree on one thing—we’re all here. Yes, and on another—that + that cake is fust-rate. I’ll take a second piece, if you’ve no + objection, Mrs. Hepton.” + </p> + <p> + When they were alone once more, in the captain’s room, Pearson + vented his indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t you give them as good as they sent?” he + demanded. “Couldn’t you see they were doing their best to hurt + your feelings?” + </p> + <p> + “Ya-as. I could see it. Didn’t need any specs to see that.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why didn’t you answer them as they deserved?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know. What’s the use? They’ve got + troubles of their own. One of ’em’s a used-to-be, and<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> the + other’s a never-was. Either disease is bad enough without addin’ + complications.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson laughed. “I don’t get the whole of that, Captain,” + he said. “Mrs. Van is the used-to-be, I suppose. But what is it that + Miss Sherborne never was?” + </p> + <p> + “Married,” was the prompt reply. “Old maiditis is + creepin’ on her fast. You want to be careful, Jim; a certain kind of + female gets desperate about her stage.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, get out!” he exclaimed, turning to go. + </p> + <p> + “All right! I will, when you and she are together and you give me + the signal. But I tell you honest, I’d hate to do it. Judgin’ + by the way she smiles and looks up under her eye-winkers at you, you’re + in danger of kidnappin’. So long. I’ll see you again after I + get my dunnage unpacked.” + </p> + <p> + The snubbing and sneering came to an abrupt end. Pearson, in conversation + with Mrs. Ruggles, casually imparted the information that Captain Elisha + was the brother of A. Rodgers Warren, late society leader and wealthy + broker. Also, that he had entire charge of the latter’s estate. + Thereafter Mrs. Ruggles treated the captain as one whose rank was equal to + her own, and, consequently, higher than anyone’s else in the + boarding-house. She made it a point to publicly ask his advice concerning + “securities” and “investments,” and favored him + with many reminiscences of her distinguished father, the Senator. Miss + Sherborne, as usual, followed her lead. Captain Elisha, when Pearson joked + him on the altered behavior of the two ladies, merely grinned. + </p> + <p> + “You may thank me for that, Captain,” said the young man. + “When I told Mrs. Ruggles who and what you were she almost broke + down and sobbed. The fact that she had risked offending one so closely + connected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> + with the real thing on Fifth Avenue and Wall Street was too dreadful. But + she’s yours devotedly now. There’s an 18-karat crown on your + head.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. I suppose so. Well, I ain’t so sot up with pride over + wearin’ that crown. It used to belong to ’Bije, and I never + did care much for second-hand things. Rather have a new sou’wester + of my own, any day in the week. When I buy a sou’wester I know what + it’s made of.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Ruggles knows what the crown is made of—gold, nicely + padded with bonds and preferred stock.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Sometimes I wonder if the paddin’s waterproof. As for + the gold—well, you can make consider’ble shine with brass when + you’re dealin’ with nigh-sighted folks ... and children.” + </p> + <p> + To this indirect reference to Miss Warren and her brother Pearson made no + reply. The pair conversed freely on other subjects, but each avoided this + one. The novel, too, was laid on the shelf for the present. Its author had + not yet mustered sufficient courage to return to it. Captain Elisha once + or twice suggested a session with “Cap’n Jim,” but, + finding his suggestions received with more or less indifference, did not + press them. His mind was busy with other things. A hint dropped by + Sylvester, the lawyer, was one of these. It suggested alarming + possibilities, and his skepticism concerning the intrinsic worth of his + inherited “crown” was increased by it. + </p> + <p> + He paid frequent visits to the offices of Sylvester, Kuhn, and Graves in + Pine Street. Upon the senior partner, whom he esteemed and trusted not + only as a business adviser but a friend, he depended for information + concerning happenings at the Warren apartment. + </p> + <p> + Caroline sent him regular statements of her weekly<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> expenditures, also bills + for his approval, but she had written him but once, and then only a brief + note. The note brought by a messenger, accompanied a package containing + the chain which he and Pearson selected with such deliberation and care at + the Fifth Avenue jeweler’s. Under the existing circumstances, the + girl wrote, she felt that she did not wish to accept presents from him and + therefore returned this one. He was alone when the note and package came + and sat by the window of his room, looking out at the dismal prospect of + back yards and clothes-lines, turning the leather case over and over in + his hands. Perhaps this was the most miserable afternoon he had spent + since his arrival in the city. He tried to comfort himself by the exercise + of his usual philosophy, but it was cold comfort. He had no right to + expect gratitude, so he told himself, and the girl undoubtedly felt that + she was justified in her treatment of him; but it is hard to be + misunderstood and misjudged, even by one whose youth is, perhaps, an + excuse. He forgave Caroline, but he could not forgive those who were + responsible for her action. + </p> + <p> + After Pearson had departed, on the morning when the conversation dealing + with Mrs. Van Winkle Ruggles and her change of attitude took place, + Captain Elisha put on his hat and coat and started for his lawyer’s + office. Sylvester was glad to see him and invited him to lunch. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” replied the captain. “I just run down + to ask if there was anything new in the offin’. Last time I see you, + you hinted you and your mates had sighted somethin’ or other through + the fog, and it might turn out to be a rock or a lighthouse, you couldn’t + tell which. Made up your mind yet?” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester shook his head. “No,” he said, slowly;<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> + “it is still foggy. We’re busy investigating, but we’re + not ready to report.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, what’s the thing look like? You must be a little + nigher to it by now.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer tapped his desk with a pencil. “I don’t know what + it looks like,” he answered. “That is to say, I don’t—I + can’t believe it is what it appears, at this distance, to be. If it + is, it is the most—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. Captain Elisha waited for him to go on and, when he did not do + so, asked another question. + </p> + <p> + “The most what?” he demanded. “Is it likely to be very + bad?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—well, I can’t say even that yet. But + there! as I told you, I’m not going to permit it to worry me. And + you mustn’t worry, either. That’s why I don’t give you + any further particulars. There may be nothing in it, after all.” + </p> + <p> + His visitor smiled. “Say, Mr. Sylvester,” he said, “you’re + like the young-ones used to be when I was a boy. There’d be a gang + of ’em waitin’ by the schoolhouse steps and when the + particular victim hove in sight they’d hail him with, ‘Ah, ha! + <i>you’re</i> goin’ to get it!’ ‘Wait till teacher + sees you!’ and so on. Course the victim would want to know what it + meant. All the satisfaction he got from them was, ‘That’s all + right! You’ll find out! You just wait!’ And the poor feller + put in the time afore the bell rung goin’ over all the things he + shouldn’t have done and had, and wonderin’ which it was this + time. You hinted to me a week ago that there was a surprisin’ + possibility loomin’ up in ’Bije’s financial affairs. And + ever since then I’ve been puzzlin’ my brains tryin’ to + guess what could happen. Ain’t discovered any more of those Cut + Short bonds, have you?” + </p> + <p> + The bonds to which he referred were those of a defunct<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> Short Line railroad. A + large number of these bonds had been discovered among A. Rodgers Warren’s + effects; part of his “tangled assets,” the captain had termed + them, differentiating from the “tangible” variety. + </p> + <p> + “Abbie, my housekeeper, has been writin’ me,” he went + on, “about havin’ the sewin’ room papered. She wants my + advice concernin’ the style of paper; says it ought to be pretty and + out of the common, but not too expensive. I judge what she wants is + somethin’ that looks like money but ain’t really wuth more + than ten cents a mile. I’ve been thinkin’ I’d send her a + bale or so of those bonds; they’d fill the bill in those respects, + wouldn’t they?” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester laughed. “They certainly would, Captain,” he + replied. “No, we haven’t unearthed any more of that sort. And, + as for this mystery of ours, I’ll give you the answer—if it’s + worth giving at all, in a very short time. Meanwhile, you go home and + forget it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ll try. But I guess it sticks out on my face, like a + four days’ toothache. But I <i>won’t</i> worry about that. You + know best whether to tell me now or not, and—well, I’m carryin’ + about all the worry my tonnage’ll stand, as ’tis.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a long breath. Sylvester regarded him sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t take your nephew’s and niece’s + treatment too much to heart,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t. That is, I pretend I don’t. And I do try + not to. But I keep thinkin’, thinkin’, and wonderin’ if + ’twould have been better if I hadn’t gone there to live at + all. Hi hum! a man of my age hadn’t ought to mind what a + twenty-year-old girl says, or does; ’specially when her kind, + advisin’ friends have shown her how<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> she’s been + deceived and hypocrit-ted. By the way, speakin’ of hypocrites, I + suppose there’s just as much ‘Dunnin’’ as ever + goin’ on up there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. A little more, if anything, I’m afraid. Your niece and + Mrs. Dunn and her precious son are together now so constantly that people + are expecting—well, you know what they expect.” + </p> + <p> + “I can guess. I hope they’ll be disapp’inted.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I, but I must confess I’m fearful. Malcolm himself isn’t + so wise, but his mother is—” + </p> + <p> + “A whole Book of Proverbs, hey? I know. She’s an able old + frigate. I did think I had her guns spiked, but she turned ’em on me + unexpected. I thought I had her and her boy in a clove hitch. I knew + somethin’ that I was sartin sure they wouldn’t want Caroline + to know, and she and Malcolm knew I knew it. Her tellin’ Caroline of + it, <i>her</i> story of it, when I wasn’t there to contradict, was + as smart a piece of maneuverin’ as ever was. It took the wind out of + my sails, because, though I’m just as right as I ever was, Caroline + wouldn’t listen to me, nor believe me, now.” + </p> + <p> + “She’ll learn by experience.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. But learnin’ by experience is a good deal like shippin’ + green afore the mast; it’ll make an able seaman of you, if it don’t + kill you fust. When I was a boy there was a man in our town name of + Nickerson Cummin’s. He was mate of a ship and smart as a red pepper + poultice on a skinned heel. He was a great churchgoer when he was ashore + and always preachin’ brotherly love and kindness and pattin’ + us little shavers on the head, and so on. Most of the grown folks thought + he was a sort of saint, and I thought he was more than that. I’d + have worshiped him, I cal’late, if my Methodist trainin’ would + have allowed me to worship<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" + id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> anybody who wa’n’t named in + Scriptur’. If there’d been an apostle or a prophet christened + Nickerson I’d have fell on my knees to this Cummin’s man, + sure. So, when I went to sea as a cabin boy, a tow-headed snub-nosed + little chap of fourteen, I was as happy as a clam at highwater ’cause + I was goin’ in the ship he was mate of.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. There was a frown on his face, and his lower jaw was thrust + forward grimly. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” inquired Sylvester. “What happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Oh, excuse me. When I get to thinkin’ of that v’yage + I simmer inside, like a teakettle on a hot stove. The second day out—seasick + and homesick and so miserable I wished I could die all at once instead of + by lingerin’ spasms—I dropped a dish on the cabin floor and + broke it. Cummin’s was alone with me, eatin’ his dinner; and + he jumped out of his chair when I stooped to pick up the pieces and kicked + me under the table. When I crawled out, he kicked me again and kept it up. + When his foot got tired he used his fist. ‘There!’ says he + between his teeth, ‘I cal’late that’ll learn you that + crockery costs money.’ + </p> + <p> + “It did. I never broke anything else aboard that ship. Cummin’s + was a bully and a sneak to everybody but the old man, and a toady to him. + He never struck me or anybody else when the skipper was around, but there + was nothin’ too mean for him to do when he thought he had a safe + chance. And he took pains to let me know that if I ever told a soul at + home he’d kill me. I’d learned by experience, not only about + the price of crockery, but other things, things that a youngster ought not + to learn—how to hate a man so that you can wait years to get even + with him, for one. I’m sorry I learned that, and,” dryly, + “so was Cummin’s, later. But I did learn, once<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> and + for all, not to take folks on trust, nor to size ’em up by their + outside, or the noise they make in prayer-meetin’, nor the way they + can spread soft soap when they think it’s necessary. I’d + learned that, and I’d learned it early enough to be of use to me, + which was a mercy. + </p> + <p> + “It was a hard lesson for me,” he added, reflectively; “but + I managed to come out of it without lettin’ it bitter my whole life. + I don’t mind so much Caroline’s bein’ down on me. She’ll + know better some day, I hope; and if she don’t—well, I’m + only a side-issue in her life, anyhow, hove in by accident, like the + section of dog collar in the sassage. But I do hope her learnin’ by + experience won’t come too late to save her from ... what she’ll + be awful sorry for by and by.” + </p> + <p> + “It must,” declared the lawyer, with decision. “You must + see to it, Captain Warren. You are her guardian. She is absolutely under + your charge. She can do nothing of importance unless you consent.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. That’s so—for one more year; just one, remember! + Then she’ll be of age, and I can’t say ‘Boo!’ And + her share of ’Bije’s money’ll be hers, too. And don’t + you believe that that fact has slipped Sister Dunn’s memory. I ain’t + on deck to head her off now; if she puts Malcolm up to gettin’ + Caroline to give her word, and Caroline gives it—well, I know my + niece. She’s honorable, and she’ll stick to her promise if it + runs her on the rocks. And Her Majesty Dunn knows that, too. Therefore, + the cat bein’ away, she cal’lates now’s the time to make + sure of the cheese.” + </p> + <p> + “But the cat can come back. The song says it did, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. And got another kick, I shouldn’t wonder.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> + However, my claws’ll stay sharp for a year or thereabouts, and, if + it comes to a shindy, there’ll be some tall scratchin’ afore I + climb a tree. Keep a weather eye on what goes on, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “I will. You can depend on me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do. And say! for goodness’ sakes put me out of my misery + regardin’ that rock or lighthouse on ’Bije’s chart, soon’s + ever you settle which it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly! And, remember, don’t worry. It may be a + lighthouse, or nothing at all. At all events, I’ll report very soon.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XVI + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom: 1px;">B</span>ut, + in spite of his promise, Sylvester did not report during the following + week or the next. Meanwhile, his client tried his best to keep the new + mystery from troubling his thoughts, and succeeded only partially. The + captain’s days and evenings were quiet and monotonous. He borrowed a + book or two from Mrs. Hepton’s meager library, read, walked a good + deal, generally along the water front, and wrote daily letters to Miss + Baker. He and Pearson were together for at least a portion of each day. + The author, fighting down his dejection and discouragement, set himself + resolutely to work once more on the novel, and his nautical adviser was + called in for frequent consultation. The story, however, progressed but + slowly. There was something lacking. Each knew what that something was, + but neither named it. + </p> + <p> + One evening Pearson entered the room tenanted by his friend to find the + latter seated beside the table, his shoes partially unlaced, and a pair of + big slippers ready for putting on. + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” said the visitor, “you look so comfortable I + hate to disturb you.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha, red-faced and panting, desisted from the unlacing and + straightened in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” he puffed. “Jim, your remarks prove that your + experience of the world ain’t as big as it ought to be. When you get + to my age and waist measure you’ll realize that stoopin’ over + and comfort don’t go together.<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> I hope to be comfortable + pretty soon; but I sha’n’t be till them boots are off. Set + down. The agony’ll be over in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson declined to sit. “Not yet,” he said. “And you + let those shoes alone, until you hear what I’ve got to say. A + newspaper friend of mine has sent me two tickets for the opera to-night. I + want you to go with me.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha was surprised. + </p> + <p> + “To the opera?” he repeated. “Why, that’s a—a + sort of singin’ theater ain’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you’re fond of music; you told me so. And Aïda is + beautiful. Come on! it will do us both good.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Well, I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “I do. Get ready.” + </p> + <p> + The captain looked at his caller’s evening clothes. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by gettin’ ready?” he asked. “You’ve + got on your regimentals, open front and all. My uniform is the huntin’ + case kind; fits in better with church sociables and South Denboro no’theasters. + If I wore one of those vests like yours Abbie’d make me put on a red + flannel lung-protector to keep from catchin’ pneumonia. And she’d + think ’twas sinful waste besides, runnin’ the risk of sp’ilin’ + a clean biled shirt so quick. Won’t I look like an undertaker, + sittin’ alongside of you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit. If it will ease your mind I’ll change to a + business suit.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care. You know how I feel; we had a little talk about + hats a spell ago, you remember. If you’re willin’ to take me + ‘just as I am, without a plea,’ as the hymn-tune says, why, I + cal’late I’ll say yes and go. Set down and wait while I get on + my ceremonials.” + </p> + <p> + He retired to the curtain alcove, and Pearson heard<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> him rustling about, + evidently making a hurried change of raiment. During this process he + talked continuously. + </p> + <p> + “Jim,” he said, “I ain’t been to the theater but + once since I landed in New York. Then I went to see a play named ‘The + Heart of a Sailor.’ Ha! ha! that was a great show! Ever take it in, + did you?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I never did.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you’d ought to. It’s a wonder of it’s kind. + I learned more things about life-savin’ and ’longshore life + from that drayma than you’d believe was possible. You’d have + got some p’ints for your Cap’n Jim yarn from that play; you + sartin would! Yes, indeed! Way I happened to go to it was on account of + seein’ a poster on a fence over nigh where that Moriarty tribe + lived. The poster pictured a bark ashore, on her beam ends, in a sea like + those off the Horn. On the beach was a whole parcel of life-savers firin’ + off rockets and blue lights. Keepin’ the Fourth of July, I judged + they was, for I couldn’t see any other reason. The bark wa’n’t + more’n a hundred foot from ’em, and if all hands on board didn’t + know they was in trouble by that time, then they deserved to drown. + Anyhow, they wa’n’t likely to appreciate the celebration. Ho! + ho! Well, when I run afoul of that poster I felt I hadn’t ought to + let anything like that get away; so I hunted up the theater—it wa’n’t + but a little ways off—and got a front seat for that very afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it up to the advertising?” asked Pearson. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Was</i> it? Hi hum! I wish you’d been there. More ’special + I wished some of the folks from home had been there, for the whole + business was supposed to happen on the Cape, and they’d have + realized how ignorant we are about the place we live in. The hero was a<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> + strappin’ six-footer, sort of a combination fisherman and parson, + seemed so. He wore ileskins in fair weather and went around preachin’ + or defyin’ folks that provoked him and makin’ love to the + daughter of a long-haired old relic that called himself an inventor.... + Oh, consarn it!” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Dropped my collar button, as usual. Collar buttons are one of the + Old Harry’s pet traps. I’ll bet their responsible for ’most + as many lapses from grace as tangled fishlines. Where.... Ow!... All + right; I found it with my bare foot, and edge up, of course.” + </p> + <p> + A series of grunts and short-breathed exclamations followed, indicating + that the sufferer was struggling with a tight collar. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” commanded Pearson. “Tell me some more about the + play.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Oh, the play. Where was I?” + </p> + <p> + “You were saying that the heroine’s father was an inventor.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what <i>he</i> said he was, though he never furnished + any proof. His daughter helped him with his inventions, but if she’d + cut his hair once in a while ’twould have been a better way of + puttin’ in the time, ’cordin’ to my notion. And there + was a rich squire, who made his money by speculatin’ in wickedness, + and a mortgage, and—I don’t know what all. And those Cape Cod + folks! and the houses they lived in! and the way they talked! Oh, dear! + oh, dear! I got my money’s wuth that afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “What about the wreck? How did that happen?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t know. It happened ’cause it had to be in the + play, I cal’late. The mortgage, or an ‘invention’<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> or + somethin’, was on board the bark and just naturally took a short cut + for home, way I figgered it out. But, Jim, you ought to have seen that + hero! He peeled off his ileskin-slicker—he’d kept it on all + through the sunshine, but now, when ’twas rainin’ and rainin’ + and wreckin’ and thunderin’, he shed it—and jumped in + and saved all hands and the ship’s cat. ’Twas great business! + No wonder the life-savers set off fireworks! And thunder! Why, say, it + never stopped thunderin’ in that storm except when somebody had to + make a heroic speech; then it let up and give ’em a chance. Most + considerate thunder ever I heard. And the lightnin’! and the way the + dust flew from the breakers! I was glad I went.... There!” appearing + fully dressed from behind the curtains. “I’m ready if you are. + Did I talk your head off? I ask your pardon; but that ‘Heart of a + Sailor’ touched mine, I guess. I know I was afraid I’d laugh + until it stopped beatin’. And all around the people were cryin’. + It was enough sight damper amongst the seats than in those cloth waves.” + </p> + <p> + The pair walked over to Broadway, boarded a street car, and alighted + before the Metropolitan Opera House. Pearson’s seats were good ones, + well down in the orchestra. Captain Elisha turned and surveyed the great + interior and the brilliantly garbed audience. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” he muttered. “This is considerable of a show in + itself, Jim. They could put our town hall inside here and the folks on the + roof wouldn’t be so high as those in that main skys’l gallery + up aloft there. Can they see or hear, do you think?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. The accepted idea is that they are the real music lovers. + <i>they</i> come for the opera itself. Some of the others come because—well, + because it is the proper thing.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>“Yes, + yes; I see. That’s the real article right over our heads, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That’s the ‘Diamond Horseshoe.’” + </p> + <p> + “All proper things there, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—er—yes, I suppose so. What makes you ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing much. I was thinking ’twas better Abbie wa’n’t + along on this cruise. She’d probably want to put an ‘im’ + in front of that ‘proper.’ I envy those women, Jim; <i>they</i> + didn’t have to stop to hunt up collar buttons, did they.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent during the first act of the opera. When the curtain fell his + companion asked how he liked it. + </p> + <p> + “Good singin’,” he replied; “best I ever heard. Do + you understand what they say?” + </p> + <p> + “No. But I’m familiar with the story of Aïda, of course. + It’s a favorite of mine. And the words don’t really matter.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose not. It’s the way they say it. I had an Irishman + workin’ round my barn once, and Tim Bailey drove down from Bayport + to see me. I was out and Tim and the Irishman run afoul of each other. Tim + stuttered so that he made a noise when he talked like one of these + gasoline bicycles goin’ by. He watched Mike sweepin’ out the + horse stall and he says, ‘You’re a pup—pup ... I say you’re + a pup—.’ He didn’t get any further ’cause Mike + went for him with the broom. Turned out later that he was tryin’ to + compliment that Irishman by sayin’ he was a particular sort of + feller. These folks on the stage might be sayin’ most anythin’, + and I wouldn’t know it. But I sha’n’t knock ’em + down, for I like the way it’s said. When the Almighty give us music + he more than made up for makin’ us subject to toothache, didn’t + he.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>Pearson + bought a copy of the libretto, and the captain followed the performance of + the next two acts with interest. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Jim,” he whispered, with a broad grin, “it’s + a good thing this opera idea ain’t carried into real life. If you + had to sing every word you said ’twould be sort of distressin’, + ’specially if you was in a hurry. A fust-rate solo when you was + orderin’ the crew to shorten sail would be a high old brimstone + anthem, I’ll bet you. And think of the dinner table at our boardin’ + house! Mrs. Van and C. Dickens both goin’ at once, and Marm Hepton + serenadin’ the waiter girl! Ho! ho! A cat fight wouldn’t be a + circumstance.” + </p> + <p> + Between the third and the fourth acts the pair went out into the foyer, + where, ascending to the next floor, they made the round of the long curve + behind the boxes, Pearson pointing out to his friend the names of the box + lessees on the brass plates. + </p> + <p> + “There!” he observed, as, the half circle completed, they + turned and strolled back again, “isn’t that an imposing list, + Captain? Don’t you feel as if you were close to the real thing?” + </p> + <p> + “Godfreys mighty!” was the solemn reply; “I was just + thinkin’ I felt as if I’d been readin’ one of those + muck-rakin’ yarns in the magazines!” + </p> + <p> + The foyer had its usual animated crowd, and among them Pearson recognized + a critic of his acquaintance. He offered to introduce the captain, but the + latter declined the honor, saying that he cal’lated he wouldn’t + shove his bows in this time. “You heave ahead and see your friend, + Jim,” he added. “I’ll come to anchor by this pillar and + watch the fleet go by. I’ll have to write Abbie about all this; she’ll + want to know how the female craft was rigged.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>Left + alone, he leaned against the pillar and watched the people pass and repass + just behind him. Two young men paused just behind him. He could not help + overhearing their conversation. + </p> + <p> + “I presume you’ve heard the news?” asked one, casually. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the other, “I have. That is, if you mean + the news concerning Mal Dunn. The mater learned it this afternoon and + sprung it at dinner. No one was greatly surprised. Formal announcement + made, and all that sort of thing, I believe. Mal’s to be + congratulated.” + </p> + <p> + “His mother is, you mean. She managed the campaign. The old lady is + some strategist, and I’d back her to win under ordinary + circumstances. But I understand these were not ordinary; wise owl of a + guardian to be circumvented, or something of that sort.” + </p> + <p> + “From what I hear the Dunns haven’t won so much after all. + There was a big shrinkage when papa died, so they say. Instead of three or + four millions it panned out to be a good deal less than one. I don’t + know much about it, because our family and theirs have drifted apart since + they moved.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I imagine whatever the pan-out it will be welcome. The Dunns + are dangerously close to the ragged edge; everybody has been on to that + for some time. And it takes a few ducats to keep Mal going. He’s no + Uncle Russell when it comes to putting by for the rainy day.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, on the whole, I’m rather sorry for—the other + party. Mal is a good enough fellow, and he certainly is a game sport; but—” + </p> + <p> + They moved on, and Captain Elisha heard no more. But what he had heard was + quite sufficient. He sat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" + id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> through the remainder of the opera in + silence and answered all his friend’s questions and remarks curtly + and absently. + </p> + <p> + As they stepped into the trolley Pearson bought an evening paper, not the + <i>Planet</i>, but a dignified sheet which shunned sensationalism and + devoted much space to the doings of the safe, sane, and ultra-respectable + element. Perceiving that his companion, for some reason, did not care to + talk, he read as the car moved downtown. Suddenly Captain Elisha was + awakened from his reverie by hearing his friend utter an exclamation. + Looking up, the captain saw that he was leaning back in the seat, the + paper lying unheeded in his lap. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter?” asked the older man, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + Pearson started, glanced quickly at his friend, hesitated, and looked down + again. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing—now,” he answered, brusquely. “We get out + here. Come.” + </p> + <p> + He rose, picked up the paper with a hand that shook a little, and led the + way to the door of the car. Captain Elisha followed, and they strode up + the deserted side street. Pearson walked so rapidly that his companion was + hard pushed to keep pace with him. When they stood together in the dimly + lit hall of the boarding house, the captain spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Jim,” he asked in a low tone, “what is it? You + may as well tell me. Maybe I can guess, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + The young man reached up and turned the gas full on. In spite of the cold + from which they had just come, his face was white. He folded the paper in + his hand, and with his forefinger pointed to its uppermost page. + </p> + <p> + “There it is,” he said. “Read it.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha took the paper, drew his spectacle case<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> from his pocket, + adjusted his glasses and read. The item was among those under the head of + “Personal and Social.” It was what he expected. “The + engagement is to-day announced of Miss Caroline Warren, daughter of the + late A. Rodgers Warren, the well-known broker, to Mr. Malcolm Corcoran + Dunn, of Fifth Avenue. Miss Warren, it will be remembered, was one of the + most charming of our season-before-last’s débutantes and—” + etc. + </p> + <p> + The captain read the brief item through. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, slowly, “I see.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson looked at him in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “You <i>see</i>!” he repeated. “You—Why! <i>Did + you know it</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been afraid of it for some time. To-night, when you left + me alone there in the quarter-deck of that opera house, I happened to hear + two young chaps talkin’ about it. So you might say I knew—Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens! and you can stand there and—What are you going + to do about it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know—yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to permit her to marry that—<i>that</i> fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I ain’t sartin that I can stop her.” + </p> + <p> + “My God, man! Do you realize—and <i>she</i>—your niece—why—” + </p> + <p> + “There! there! Jim. I realize it all, I cal’late. It’s + my business to realize it.” + </p> + <p> + “And it isn’t mine. No, of course it isn’t; you’re + right there.” + </p> + <p> + He turned and strode toward the foot of the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” commanded the captain. “Hold on, Jim! Don’t + you go off ha’f cocked. When I said ’twas my business to + realize this thing, I meant just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" + id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> that and nothin’ more. I wa’n’t + hintin’, and you ought to know it. You do know it, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + The young man paused. “Yes,” he answered, after an instant’s + struggle with his feelings; “yes, I do. I beg your pardon, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. And here’s somethin’ else; I just told you I + wasn’t sartin I could stop the marriage. That’s the truth. But + I don’t recollect sayin’ I’d actually hauled down the + colors, not yet. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Captain. I shouldn’t have misunderstood you, of + course. But, as you know, I respected and admired your niece. And this + thing has—has—” + </p> + <p> + “Sort of knocked you on your beam ends, I understand. Well, Jim,” + with a sigh, “I ain’t exactly on an even keel myself.” + </p> + <p> + They separated, Pearson going to his room. As Captain Elisha was passing + through the hall on the second floor, he heard someone calling him by + name. Turning, he saw his landlady’s head, bristling with curl + papers, protruding from behind the door at the other end of the passage. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Warren,” she asked, “is that you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am,” replied the captain, turning back. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ve got a message for you. A Mr. Sylvester has ’phoned + you twice this evening. He wishes to see you at his office at the earliest + possible moment. He says it is <i>very</i> important.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XVII + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">N</span>ine + o’clock is an early hour for a New York lawyer of prominence to be + at his place of business. Yet, when Captain Elisha asked the office boy of + Sylvester, Kuhn and Graves if the senior partner was in, he received an + affirmative answer. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Tim, respectfully. His manner toward the + captain had changed surprisingly since the latter’s first call. + “Yes, sir; Mr. Sylvester’s in. He expects you. I’ll tell + him you’re here. Sit down and wait, please.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha sat down, but he did not have to wait long. The boy + returned at once and ushered him into the private office. Sylvester + welcomed him gravely. + </p> + <p> + “You got my message, then,” he said. “I spent hours last + evening chasing you by ’phone. And I was prepared to begin again + this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “So? That’s why you’re on deck so early? Didn’t + sleep here, did you? Well, I cal’late I know what you want to talk + about. You ain’t the only one that reads the newspapers.” + </p> + <p> + “The newspapers? Great heavens! it isn’t in the newspapers, is + it? It can’t be!” + </p> + <p> + He seemed much perturbed. Captain Elisha looked puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Course it is,” he said. “But I heard it afore I saw it. + Perhaps you think I take it pretty easy. Maybe I act as if I did. But you + expected it, and so did I, so we ain’t exactly surprised. And,” + seriously, “I realize<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" + id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> that it’s no joke as well as you + do. But we’ve got a year to fight in, and now we must plan the + campaign. I did cal’late to see Caroline this mornin’. Then, + if I heard from her own lips that ’twas actually so, I didn’t + know’s I wouldn’t drop in and give Sister + Corcoran-Queen-Victoria-Dunn a few plain facts about it not bein’ a + healthy investment to hurry matters. You’re wantin’ to see me + headed me off, and I come here instead.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer looked at him in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “See here, Captain Warren,” he demanded, “what do you + imagine I asked you to come here for?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to talk about that miserable engagement, sartin. Poor girl! I’ve + been awake ha’f the night thinkin’ of the mess she’s + been led into. And she believes she’s happy, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester shook his head. “I see,” he said, slowly. “You + would think it that, naturally. No, Captain, it isn’t the + engagement. It’s more serious than that.” + </p> + <p> + “More serious than—<i>more</i> serious! Why, what on earth? + Hey? Mr. Sylvester, has that rock-lighthouse business come to somethin’ + after all?” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer nodded. “It has,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “I want to know! And I’d almost forgot it, not hearin’ + from you. It’s a rock, too, I judge, by the looks of your face. + Humph!... Is it very bad?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid so.” + </p> + <p> + The captain pulled his beard. “Well,” he said, wearily, after + a moment, “I guess likely I can bear it. I’ve had to bear some + things in my time. Anyhow, I’ll try. Heave ahead and get it over + with. I’m ready.” + </p> + <p> + Instead of answering, Sylvester pushed an electric button on his desk. The + office boy answered the ring. + </p> + <p> + “Have Mr. Kuhn and Mr. Graves arrived?” asked the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>“Yes, + sir. Both of them, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell them Captain Warren is here, and ask them to join us in the + inner room. Remind Mr. Graves to bring the papers. And, Tim, remember that + none of us is to be disturbed. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Tim and departed. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha regarded his friend with some dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Say!” he exclaimed, “this <i>must</i> be serious, if it + takes the skipper and both mates to handle it.” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester did not smile. “It is,” he answered. “Come.” + </p> + <p> + He led the way into the room opening from the rear of his own. It was a + large apartment with a long table in the center. Mr. Kuhn, brisk and + business-like, was already there. He shook hands with his client. As he + did so, Graves, dignified and precise as ever, entered, carrying a small + portfolio filled with papers. + </p> + <p> + “Mornin’, Mr. Graves,” said the captain; “glad to + see you, even under such distressin’ circumstances, as the + undertaker said to the sick man. Feelin’ all right again, I hope. No + more colds or nothin’ like that?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Thank you. I am quite well, at present.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s hearty. If you and me don’t do any more buggy + ridin’ in Cape Cod typhoons, we’ll last a spell yet, hey? What + you got there, the death warrant?” referring to the portfolio and + its contents. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Graves evidently did not consider this flippancy worth a reply, for he + made none. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, gentlemen,” said Sylvester. + </p> + <p> + The four took chairs at the table. Graves untied and opened the portfolio. + Captain Elisha looked at his solemn companions, and his lips twitched. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll excuse me,” he observed, “but I feel as if + I was goin’ to be tried for piracy on the high seas. Has<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> the + court any objection to tobacco smoke? I’m puttin’ the emphasis + strong on the ‘tobacco,’” he added, “because this + is a cigar you give me yourself, Mr. Sylvester, last time I was down here.” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed,” replied the senior partner. “Smoke, if you + wish. No one here has any objection, unless it may be Graves.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Graves ain’t. He and I fired up together that night + we fust met. Hot smoke tasted grateful after all the cold water we’d + had poured onto us in that storm. Graves is all right. He’s a + sportin’ character, like myself. Maybe he’ll jine us. Got + another cigar in my pocket.” + </p> + <p> + But the invitation was declined. The “sporting character” + might deign to relax amid proper and fitting surroundings, but not in the + sacred precincts of his office. So the captain smoked alone. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he observed, after a few preliminary puffs, “go + on! Don’t keep me in suspenders, as the feller said. Where did the + lightnin’ strike, and what’s the damage?” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester took a card from his pocket and referred to a penciled + memorandum on its back. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Warren,” he began, slowly, “as you know, and as + directed by you, my partners here and I have been engaged for months in + carefully going over your brother’s effects, estimating values, + tabulating and sorting his various properties and securities, separating + the good from the worthless—and there was, as we saw at a glance, a + surprising amount of the latter—” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm,” interrupted the captain, “Cut Short bonds and + the like of that. I know. Excuse me. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Precisely. And there were many just as valueless. But we have + been gradually getting those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" + id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> out of the way and listing and + appraising the remainder. It was a tangle. Your brother’s business + methods, especially of late years, were decidedly unsystematic and + slipshod. It may have been the condition of his health which prevented his + attending to them as he should. Or,” he hesitated slightly, “it + may have been that he was secretly in great trouble and mental distress. + At all events, the task has been a hard one for us. But, largely owing to + Graves and his patient work, our report was practically ready a month ago.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. Captain Elisha, who had been listening attentively, nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said; “you told me ’twas. What does the + whole thing tot up to? What’s the final figger, Mr. Graves?” + </p> + <p> + The junior partner adjusted his eyeglasses to his thin nose. + </p> + <p> + “I have them here,” he said. “The list of securities, et + cetera, is rather long, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind them now, Graves,” interrupted Kuhn. “The + amount, roughly speaking, is close to over our original estimate, half a + million.” + </p> + <p> + The captain drew a breath of relief. “Well,” he exclaimed, + “that’s all right then, ain’t it? That’s no + poorhouse pension.” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester answered. “Yes,” he said, “that’s all + right, as far as it goes.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, I cal’late <i>I</i> could make it go to the end + of the route; and then have enough left for a return ticket. Say!” + with another look at the solemn faces of the three, “what <i>is</i> + the row? If the estate is wuth ha’f a million, what’s the + matter with it?” + </p> + <p> + “That is what we are here this morning to discuss, Captain. A month + ago, as I said, we considered our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" + id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> report practically ready. Then we + suddenly happened on the trail of something which, upon investigation, + upset all our calculations. If true, it threatened, not to mention its + effect upon the estate, to prove so distressing and painful to us, Rodgers + Warren’s friends and legal advisers, that we decided not to alarm + you, his brother, by disclosing our suspicions until we were sure there + was no mistake. I did drop you a hint, you will remember—” + </p> + <p> + “I remember. <i>Now</i> we’re comin’ to the rock!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Captain Warren, I think perhaps I ought to warn you that what + my partners and I are about to say will shock and hurt you. I, personally, + knew your brother well and respected him as an honorable business man. A + lawyer learns not to put too much trust in human nature, but, I confess, + this—this—” + </p> + <p> + He was evidently greatly disturbed. Captain Elisha, regarding him + intently, nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I judge it’s sort of hard for you to go on, Mr. Sylvester,” + he said. “I’ll help you all I can. You and Mr. Kuhn and Mr. + Graves here have found out somethin’ that ain’t exactly + straight in ’Bije’s doin’s? Am I right?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Captain Warren, you are.” + </p> + <p> + “Somethin’ that don’t help his character, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Somethin’s he’s, done that’s—well, to speak + plain, that’s crooked?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid there’s no doubt of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” The captain frowned. His cigar had gone out, and he + idly twisted the stump between his fingers. “Well,” he said, + with a sigh, “our family, gen’rally speakin’, has always + held its head pretty high. Dad was poor, but he prided himself on bein’ + straight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> + as a plumb line. And, as for mother, she....” Then, looking up + quickly, he asked, “Does anybody outside know about this?” + </p> + <p> + “No one but ourselves—yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet? Is it goin’ to be necessary for anybody else to know it?” + </p> + <p> + “We hope not. But there is a possibility.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinkin’ about the children.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. So are we all.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Poor Caroline! she put her father on a sort of altar and + bowed down afore him, as you might say. Any sort of disgrace to his name + would about kill her. As for me,” with another sigh, “I ain’t + so much surprised as you might think. I know that sounds tough to say + about your own brother, but I’ve been afraid all along. You see, + ’Bije always steered pretty close to the edge of the channel. He had + ideas about honesty and fair dealin’ in business that didn’t + jibe with mine. We split on just that, as I told you, Mr. Graves, when you + and I fust met. He got some South Denboro folks to invest money along with + him; sort of savin’s account, they figgered it; but I found out he + was usin’ it to speculate with. So that’s why we had our row. + I took pains to see that the money was paid back, but he and I never spoke + afterwards. Fur as my own money was concerned, I hadn’t any kick, + but.... However, I’m talkin’ too much. Go on, Mr. Sylvester, I’m + ready to hear whatever you’ve got to say.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Captain. You make it easier for me. It seems that your + brother’s first step toward wealth and success was taken about + nineteen years ago. Then, somehow or other, probably through a combination + of luck and shrewdness, he obtained a grant, a concession from the + Brazilian Government, the long term lease of<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> a good-sized tract of + land on the upper Amazon. It was very valuable because of its rubber + trees.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” Captain Elisha leaned forward. “Say that again!” + he commanded sharply. + </p> + <p> + Sylvester repeated his statement. “He got the concession by paying + twenty thousand dollars to the government of Brazil,” he continued. + “To raise the twenty thousand he formed a stock company of two + hundred and fifty shares at one hundred dollars each. One hundred of these + shares were in his own name. Fifty were in the name of one ‘Thomas + A. Craven,’ a clerk at that time in his office. Craven was only a + dummy, however. Do you understand what I mean by a dummy?” + </p> + <p> + “I can guess. Sort of a wooden image that moved when ’Bije + pulled the strings. Like one of these straw directors that clutter up the + insurance companies, ’cordin’ to the papers. Yes, yes; I + understand well enough. Go ahead! go ahead!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s it. The fifty shares were in Craven’s name, but + they were transferred in blank and in Mr. Warren’s safe. Together + with his own hundred, they gave him control and a voting majority. That + much we know by the records.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. But this rubber con—contraption wa’n’t + really wuth anything, was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Worth anything! Captain Warren, I give you my word that it was + worth more than all the rest of the investments that your brother made + during his lifetime.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>No!</i>” The exclamation was almost a shout. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, decidedly more. Does that surprise you, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha did not answer. He was regarding<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> the lawyer with a dazed + expression. He breathed heavily. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter?” demanded the watchful Kuhn, his + gaze fixed upon his client’s face. “Do you know anything—” + </p> + <p> + The captain interrupted him. “Go on!” he commanded. “But + tell me this fust: What was the name of this rubber concern of ’Bije’s?” + </p> + <p> + “The Akrae Rubber Company.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.... Yes, yes.... Akry, hey!... Well, what about it? Tell me + the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “For the first year or two this company did nothing. Then, in March, + of the third year, the property was released by Mr. Warren to persons in + Para, who were to develop and operate. The terms of his new lease were + very advantageous. Royalties were to be paid on a sliding scale, and, from + the very first, they were large. The Akrae Company paid enormous + dividends.” + </p> + <p> + “Did, hey? I want to know!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. In fact, for twelve years the company’s royalties + averaged $50,000 yearly.” + </p> + <p> + “Whe-e-w!” Captain Elisha whistled. “Fifty thousand a + year!” he repeated slowly. “’Bije! ’Bije!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And three years ago the Akrae Company sold its lease, sold out + completely to the Para people, for seven hundred and fifty thousand + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Godfreys mighty! Well,” after a moment, “that’s + what I’d call a middlin’ fair profit on a twenty thousand + dollar investment—not to mention the dividends.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” Sylvester leaned forward now; “Captain,” + he repeated, “it is that sale and the dividends which are troubling + us. I told you that the Akrae Company was organized with two hundred and + fifty shares of stock. Your brother held one hundred in his own name and + fifty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> + transferred to him by his dummy, Craven. What I did not tell you was that + there were another hundred shares, held by someone, someone who paid ten + thousand dollars for them—we know that—and was, therefore, + entitled to two-fifths of every dollar earned by the company during its + existence, and two-fifths of the amount received for the sale of the + lease. So far as we can find out, this stockholder has never received one + cent.” + </p> + <p> + The effect of this amazing announcement upon the uniniated member of the + council was not as great as the lawyers expected it to be. “You don’t + tell me!” was his sole comment. + </p> + <p> + Graves broke in impatiently: “I think, Captain Warren,” he + declared, “that you probably do not realize what this means. Besides + proving your brother dishonest, it means that this stockholder, whoever he + may have been—” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? What’s that? Don’t you know who he was?” + </p> + <p> + “No, we do not. The name upon the stub of the transfer book has been + scratched out.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha looked the speaker in the face, then slowly turned his look + upon the other two faces. + </p> + <p> + “Scratched out?” he repeated. “Who scratched it out?” + </p> + <p> + Graves shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said the captain. “You don’t know, but + we’re all entitled to guess, hey?... Humph!” + </p> + <p> + “If this person is living,” began Sylvester, “it follows + that—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on a minute! I don’t know much about corporations, of + course—that’s more in your line than ’tis in mine—but + I want to ask one question. You say this what-d’ye-call-it—this + Akrae thingamajig—was sold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" + id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> out, hull, canvas and riggin’, to + a crowd in Brazil? It’s gone out of business then? It’s dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait! Ain’t it customary, when a sale like this is made, to + turn over all the stock, certificates and all? Sometimes you get stock in + the new company in exchange; I know that. But to complete the trade, + wouldn’t this extry hundred shares be turned in? Or some sharp + questionin’ done if ’twa’n’t?” + </p> + <p> + He addressed the query to Sylvester. The latter seemed more troubled than + before. + </p> + <p> + “That,” he said with some hesitation, “is one of the + delicate points in this talk of ours, Captain Warren. A certificate for + the missing hundred shares <i>was</i> turned in. It was dated at the time + of the original issue, made out in the name of one Edward Bradley, and + transferred on the back by him to your brother. That is, it was presumably + so transferred.” + </p> + <p> + “Presumably. Pre-sumably? You mean—?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that this certificate is—well, let us say, rather + queer. To begin with, no one knows who this Bradley is, or was. His name + appears nowhere except on that certificate, unless, of course, it did + appear on the stub where the scratching has been done; we doubt that, for + reasons. Nobody ever heard of the man; and his transfer to your brother + was made, and the certificate signed by him, only three years ago, when + the Akrae Company sold out. It will take too long to go into details; but + thanks to the kindness of the Para concern, which has offices in this city—we + have been able to examine this Bradley certificate. Experts have examined + it, also. And they tell us—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do they tell?” demanded the captain. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>“They + tell us that—that, in their opinion, the certificate was never + issued at the time when, by this date, it presumes to have been. It was + made out no longer ago than five years, probably less. The signature of + Bradley on the back is—is—well, I hate to say it, Captain + Warren, but the handwriting on that signature resembles very closely that + of your brother.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha was silent for some moments. The others did not speak, but + waited. Even Graves, between whom and his client there was little in + common, felt the general sympathy. + </p> + <p> + At length the captain raised his head. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said slowly, “we ain’t children. We + might as well call things by their right names. ’Bije forged that + certificate.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid there is no doubt of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear! dear! dear! Why, they put folks in state’s prison for + that!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But a dead man is beyond prisons.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s so. Then I don’t see—” + </p> + <p> + “You will. You don’t grasp the full meaning of this affair + even yet. If the Bradley certificate is a forgery, a fraud from beginning + to end, then the presumption is that there was never any such person as + Bradley. But <i>someone</i> paid ten thousand dollars for one hundred + Akrae shares when the company was formed. <i>That</i> certificate has + never been turned in. Some person or persons, somewhere, hold one hundred + shares of Akrae Rubber Company stock. Think, now! Suppose that someone + turns up and demands all that he has been cheated out of for the past + seventeen years! Think of that!” + </p> + <p> + “Well ... I am thinkin’ of it. I got the scent of what you was + drivin’ at five minutes ago. And I don’t see that we need to + be afraid. He could have put ’Bije<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> in jail; but ’Bije + is already servin’ a longer sentence than he could give him. So that + disgrace ain’t bearin’ down on us. And, if I understand about + such things, his claim is against the Akrae Company, and that’s dead—dead + as the man that started it. Maybe he could put in a keeper, or a receiver, + or some such critter, but there’s nothin’ left to keep or + receive. Ain’t I right?” + </p> + <p> + “You are. Or you would be, but for one thing, the really + inexplicable thing in this whole miserable affair. Your brother, Captain + Warren, was dishonest. He took money that didn’t belong to him, and + he forged that certificate. But he must have intended to make restitution. + He must have been conscience-stricken and more to be pitied, perhaps, than + condemned. No doubt, when he first began to withhold the dividends and use + the money which was not his, he intended merely to borrow. He was always + optimistic and always plunging in desperate and sometimes rather shady + speculations which, he was sure, would turn out favorably. If they had—if, + for instance, the South Shore Trolley Combine had been put through—You + knew of that, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been told somethin’ about it. Go on!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it was not put through, so his hopes there were frustrated. + And that was but one of his schemes. However, when the sale of the Company + was consummated, he did an extraordinary thing. He made out and signed his + personal note, payable to the Akrae Company, for every cent he had + misappropriated. And we found that note in his safe after his death. That + was what first aroused our suspicions. <i>Now</i>, Captain Warren, do you + understand?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha did not understand, that was evident. His look of wondering + amazement traveled from one face to the others about the table. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>“A + <i>note</i>!” he repeated. “’Bije put his <i>note</i> in + the safe? A note promisin’ to pay all he’d stole! And left it + there where it could be found? Why, that’s pretty nigh unbelievable, + Mr. Sylvester! He might just as well have confessed his crookedness and be + done with it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It is unbelievable, but it is true. Graves can show you the + note.” + </p> + <p> + The junior partner produced a slip of paper from the portfolio and + regarded it frowningly. + </p> + <p> + “Of all the pieces of sheer lunacy,” he observed, “that + ever came under my observation, this is the worst. Here it is, Captain + Warren.” + </p> + <p> + He extended the paper. Captain Elisha waved it aside. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to see it—not yet,” he protested. + “I want to think. I want to get at the reason if I can. Why did he + do it?” + </p> + <p> + “That is what we’ve been tryin’ to find—the + reason,” remarked Kuhn, “and we can only guess. Sylvester has + told you the guess. Rodgers Warren intended, or hoped, to make restitution + before he died.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Knowin’ ’Bije, I can see that. He was weak, that + was his main trouble. He didn’t mean to be crooked, but his knees wa’n’t + strong enough to keep him straight when it come to a hard push. But he + made his note payable to a Company that was already sold out, so it ain’t + good for nothin’. Now, why—” + </p> + <p> + Graves struck the table with his open hand. + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t understand at all,” he exclaimed, + impatiently. “Captain Warren, listen! That note is made payable to + the Akrae Company. Against that company some unknown stockholder has an + apparent claim for two-fifths of all dividends ever paid and two-fifths of + the seven hundred and fifty thousand received for the sale.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> With + accrued interest, that claim amounts to over five hundred thousand + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but—” + </p> + <p> + “That note binds Rodgers Warren’s estate to pay that claim. + His own personal estate! And that estate is not worth over four hundred + and sixty thousand dollars! If this stockholder should appear and press + his claim, <i>your brother’s children would be, not only penniless, + but thirty thousand dollars in debt</i>! There! I think that is plain + enough!” + </p> + <p> + He leaned back, grimly satisfied with the effect of his statement. Captain + Elisha stared straight before him, unseeingly, the color fading from his + cheeks. Then he put both elbows on the table and covered his face with his + hands. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Captain,” said Sylvester, gently, “how very + serious the situation is. Graves has put it bluntly, but what he says is + literally true. If your brother had deliberately planned to hand his + children over to the mercy of that missing stockholder, he couldn’t + have done it more completely.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly the captain raised his head. His expression was a strange one; + agitated and shocked, but with a curious look of relief, almost of + triumph. + </p> + <p> + “At last!” he said, solemnly. “At last! Now it’s + <i>all</i> plain!” + </p> + <p> + “All?” repeated Sylvester. “You mean—?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean everything, all that’s been puzzlin’ me and + troublin’ my head since the very beginnin’. All of it! <i>Now</i> + I know why! Oh, ’Bije! ’Bije! ’Bije!” + </p> + <p> + Kuhn spoke quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” he said, “I believe you know who the owner of + that one hundred shares is. Do you?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha gravely nodded. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>“Yes,” + he answered. “I know him.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “You do?” + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” + </p> + <p> + The questions were blurted out together. The captain looked at the three + excited faces. He hesitated and then, taking the stub of a pencil from his + pocket, drew toward him a memorandum pad lying on the table and wrote a + line upon the uppermost sheet. Tearing off the page, he tossed it to + Sylvester. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the name,” he said. + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span>wo + more hours passed before the lawyers and their client rose from their + seats about the long table. Even then the consultation was not at an end. + Sylvester and the Captain lunched together at the Central Club and sat in + the smoking room until after four, talking earnestly. When they parted, + the attorney was grave and troubled. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Captain Warren,” he said; “I’ll do it. + And you may be right. I certainly hope you are. But I must confess I don’t + look forward to my task with pleasure. I think I’ve got the roughest + end.” + </p> + <p> + “It’ll be rough, there’s no doubt about that. Rough for + all hands, I guess. And I hope you understand, Mr. Sylvester, that there + ain’t many men I’d trust to do what I ask you to. I appreciate + your doin’ it more’n I can tell you. Be as—as gentle as + you can, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “I will. You can depend upon that.” + </p> + <p> + “I do. And I sha’n’t forget it. Good-by, till the next + time.” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands. Captain Elisha returned to the boarding house, where he + found a letter awaiting him. It was from Caroline, telling him of her + engagement to Malcolm Dunn. She wrote that, while not recognizing his + right to interfere in any way, she felt that perhaps he should know of her + action. He did not go down to supper, and, when Pearson came to inquire + the reason, excused himself, pleading a late luncheon and no appetite.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> He + guessed he would turn in early, so he said. It was a poor guess. + </p> + <p> + Next morning he went uptown. Edwards, opening the door of the Warren + apartment, was surprised to find who had rung the bell. + </p> + <p> + “Mornin’, Commodore!” hailed the captain, as casually as + if he were merely returning from a stroll. “Is Miss Caroline aboard + ship?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, I don’t know, sir. I’ll see.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all right. She’s aboard or you wouldn’t + have to see. You and me sailed together quite a spell, so I know your + little habits. I’ll wait in the library, Commodore. Tell her there’s + no particular hurry.” + </p> + <p> + His niece was expecting him. She had anticipated his visit and was + prepared for it. From the emotion caused by his departure after the + eventful birthday, she had entirely recovered, or thought she had. The + surprise and shock of his leaving and the consequent sense of loneliness + and responsibility overcame her at the time, but Stephen’s ridicule + and Mrs. Corcoran Dunn’s congratulations on riddance from the + “encumbrance” shamed her and stilled the reproaches of her + conscience. Mrs. Dunn, as always, played the diplomat and mingled just the + proper quantity of comprehending sympathy with the congratulations. + </p> + <p> + “I understand exactly how you feel, my dear,” she said. + “You have a tender heart, and it pains you to hurt anyone’s + feelings, no matter how much they deserve to be hurt. Every time I dismiss + an incompetent or dishonest servant I feel that I have done wrong; + sometimes I cry, actually shed tears, you know, and yet my reason tells me + I am right. You feel that you may have been too harsh with that guardian + of yours. You remember what you said to him and forget how hypocritically<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> he + behaved toward you. I can’t forgive him that. I may forget how he + misrepresented Malcolm and me to you—that I may even pardon, in time—but + to deceive his own brother’s children and introduce into their + society a creature who had slandered and maligned their father—<i>that</i> + I never shall forget or forgive. And—you’ll excuse my + frankness, dear—you should never forget or forgive it, either. You + have nothing with which to reproach yourself. You were a brave girl, and + if you are not proud of yourself, <i>I</i> am proud of you.” + </p> + <p> + So, when her uncle was announced, Caroline was ready. She entered the + library and acknowledged his greeting with a distant bow. He regarded her + kindly, but his manner was grave. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Caroline,” he began, “I got your letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I presumed you did.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. I got it. It didn’t surprise me, what you wrote, + because I’d seen the news in the papers; but I was hopin’ you’d + tell me yourself, and I’m real glad you did. I’m much obliged + to you.” + </p> + <p> + She had not expected him to take this tone, and it embarrassed her. + </p> + <p> + “I—I gave you my reasons for writing,” she said. “Although + I do not consider that I am, in any sense, duty bound to refer matters, + other than financial, to you; and, although my feelings toward you have + not changed—still, you are my guardian, and—and—” + </p> + <p> + “I understand. So you’re really engaged?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Engaged to Mr. Dunn?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And you’re cal’latin’ to marry him?” + </p> + <p> + “One might almost take that for granted,” impatiently. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>“Almost—yes. + Not always, but generally, I will give in. You’re goin’ to + marry Malcolm Dunn. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she repeated the question as if she doubted his sanity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Be as patient with me as you can, Caroline. I ain’t + askin’ these things without what seems to me a good reason. Why are + you goin’ to marry him?” + </p> + <p> + “Why because I choose, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Are you sure of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Am I sure?” indignantly. “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean are you sure that it’s because you choose, or because + <i>he</i> does, or maybe, because his mother does?” + </p> + <p> + She turned angrily away. “If you came here to insult me—” + she began. He interrupted her. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he protested gently. “Insultin’ you is + the last thing I want to do. But, as your father did put you in my charge, + I want you to bear with me while we talk this over together. Remember, + Caroline, I ain’t bothered you a great deal lately. I shouldn’t + now if I hadn’t thought ’twas necessary. So please don’t + get mad, but answer me this: Do you care for this man you’ve + promised to marry?” + </p> + <p> + This was a plain question. It should have been answered without the + slightest hesitation. Moreover, the girl had expected him to ask it. Yet, + for a moment, she did hesitate. + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” continued Captain Elisha, “do you care for him + <i>enough</i>? Enough to live with him all your life, and see him every + day, and be to him what a true wife ought to be? See him, not with his + company manners on or in his automobile, but at the breakfast table, and + when he comes home tired and cross, maybe. When you’ve got to be + forbearin’ and forgivin’ and—” + </p> + <p> + “He is one of my oldest and best friends—” she + interrupted.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> + Her uncle went on without waiting for her to end the sentence. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” he said. “One of the oldest, that’s + sure. But friendship, ’cordin’ to my notion, is somethin’ + so small in comparison that it hardly counts in the manifest. Married + folks ought to be friends, sartin sure; but they ought to be a whole lot + more’n that. I’m an old bach, you say, and ain’t had no + experience. That’s true; but I’ve been young, and there was a + time when <i>I</i> made plans.... However, she died, and it never come to + nothin’. But I <i>know</i> what it means to be engaged, the right + kind of engagement. It means that you don’t count yourself at all, + not a bit. You’re ready, each of you, to give up all you’ve + got—your wishes, comfort, money and what it’ll buy, and your + life, if it should come to that, for that other one. Do you care for + Malcolm Dunn like that, Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + She answered defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You do. Well, do you think he feels the same way about you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” with not quite the same promptness, but still + defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “You feel sartin of it, do you?” + </p> + <p> + She stamped her foot. “Yes! yes! <i>yes</i>!” she cried. + “Oh, <i>do</i> say what you came to say, and end it!” + </p> + <p> + Her uncle rose to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I guess likely I’ve said it,” he observed. “When + two people care for each other like that, they <i>ought</i> to be married, + and the sooner the better. I knew that you’d been lonesome and + troubled, maybe; and some of the friends you used to have had kind of + dropped away—busy with other affairs, which is natural enough—and, + you needin’ sympathy and companionship, I was<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> sort of worried for fear + all this had influenced you more’n it ought to, and you’d been + led into sayin’ yes without realizin’ what it meant. But you + tell me that ain’t so; you do realize. So all I can say is that I’m + awful glad for you. God bless you, my dear! I hope you’ll be as + happy as the day is long.” + </p> + <p> + His niece gazed at him, bewildered and incredulous. This she had <i>not</i> + expected. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she stammered. “I did not know—I + thought—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you did—of course. Well, then, Caroline, I guess + that’s all. I won’t trouble you any longer. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + He turned toward the door, but stopped, hesitated, and turned back again. + </p> + <p> + “There is just one thing more,” he said solemnly. “I don’t + know’s I ought to speak, but—I want to—and I’m + goin’ to. And I want you to believe it! I do want you to!” + </p> + <p> + He was so earnest, and the look he gave her was so strange, that she began + to be alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, just this, Caroline. This is a tough old world we + live in. Things don’t always go on in it as we think they’d + ought to. Trouble comes to everybody, and when it all looks right + sometimes it turns out to be all wrong. If—if there should come a + time like that to you and Steve, I want you to remember that you’ve + got me to turn to. No matter what you think of me, what folks have made + you think of me, just remember that I’m waitin’ and ready to + help you all I can. Any time I’m ready—and glad. Just remember + that, won’t you, because.... Well, there! Good-by, Good-by!” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>He + hurried away. She stood gazing after him, astonished, a little frightened, + and not a little disturbed and touched. His emotion was so evident; his + attitude toward her engagement was so different from that which she had + anticipated; and there was something in his manner which she could not + understand. He had acted as if he pitied her. Why? It could not be because + she was to marry Malcolm Dunn. If it were that, she resented his pity, of + course. But it could not be that, because he had given her his blessing. + What was it? Was there something else; something that she did not know and + he did? Why was he so kind and forbearing and patient? + </p> + <p> + All her old doubts and questionings returned. She had resolutely kept them + from her thoughts, but they had been there, in the background, always. + When, after the long siege, she had at last yielded and said yes to + Malcolm, she felt that that question, at least, was settled. She would + marry him. He was one whom she had known all her life, the son of the + dearest friend she had; he and his mother had been faithful at the time + when she needed friends. As her husband, he would protect her and give her + the affection and companionship she craved. He might appear careless and + indifferent at times, but that was merely his manner. Had not Mrs. Dunn + told her over and over again what a good son he was, and what a kind heart + he had, and how he worshiped her? Oh, she ought to be a very happy girl! + Of course she was happy. But why had her uncle looked at her as he did? + And what did he mean by hinting that when things looked right they + sometimes were all wrong? She wished Malcolm was with her then; she needed + him. + </p> + <p> + She heard the clang of the elevator door. Then the<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> bell rang furiously. She + heard Edwards hasten to answer it. Then, to her amazement, she heard her + brother’s voice. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline!” demanded Stephen. “Caroline! Where are you?” + </p> + <p> + He burst into the room, still wearing his coat and hat, and carrying a + traveling bag in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Steve!” she said, going toward him. “Why, Steve! + what—” + </p> + <p> + He was very much excited. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he exclaimed, “you’re all right then! You + are all right, aren’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “All right? Why shouldn’t I be all right? What do you mean? + And why are you here?” + </p> + <p> + He returned her look of surprise with one of great astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Why am I here?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Why did you come from New Haven?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, because I got the telegram, of course! You expected me to + come, didn’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> expected you? Telegram? What telegram?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the—Good Lord, Caro! what are you talking about? Didn’t + you know they telegraphed me to come home at once? I’ve pretty + nearly broke my neck, and the taxicab man’s, getting here from the + station. I thought you must be very ill, or something worse.” + </p> + <p> + “They telegraphed you to come here? Who.... Edwards, you may take + Mr. Warren’s things to his room.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Sis—” + </p> + <p> + “Just a moment, Steve. Give Edwards your coat and hat. Yes, and your + bag. That will be all, Edwards. We sha’n’t need you.” + </p> + <p> + When they were alone, she turned again to her brother. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>“Now, + Steve,” she said, “sit down and tell me what you mean. Who + telegraphed you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, old Sylvester, father’s lawyer. I’ve got the + message here somewhere. No, never mind! I’ve lost it, I guess. He + wired me to come home as early as possible this morning. Said it was very + important. And you didn’t know anything about it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not a thing. What can it mean?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> don’t know! That’s the bell, isn’t it? + Edwards!” + </p> + <p> + But the butler was already on his way to the door. A moment later he + returned. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Sylvester,” he announced. + </p> + <hr class="medium" /> + <p> + Captain Elisha scarcely left his room, except for meals, during the + remainder of that day and for two days thereafter. He was unusually silent + at table and avoided conversation even with Pearson, who was depressed and + gloomy and made no attempt to force his society upon his friend. Once, + passing the door of the latter’s room, he heard the captain pacing + back and forth as if he were walking the quarter-deck of one of his old + ships. As Pearson stood listening the footsteps ceased; silence, then a + deep sigh, and they began again. The young man sighed in sympathy and + wearily climbed to his den. The prospect of chimneys and roofs across the + way was never more desolate or more pregnant with discouragement. + </p> + <p> + Several times Captain Elisha descended to the closet where the telephone + was fastened to the wall and held long conversations with someone. Mrs. + Hepton, who knew that her newest boarder was anxious and disturbed, and + was very curious to learn the reason, made it a point to be busy near that + closet while these conversations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" + id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> took place; but, as the captain was + always careful to close the door, she was disappointed. Once the + mysterious Mr. Sylvester called up and asked for “Captain Warren,” + and the landlady hastened with the summons. + </p> + <p> + “I hope it’s nothing serious,” she observed, feelingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am,” replied the captain, on his way to the + stairs. “Much obliged.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the same person who was so very anxious to get you the other + night,” she continued, making desperate efforts not to be left + behind in the descent. “I declare he quite frightened me! And—you’ll + excuse me, Captain Warren, but I take such a real friendly interest in my + boarders—you have seemed to me rather—rather upset lately, and + I <i>do</i> hope it isn’t bad news.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I tell you, ma’am,” was the unsatisfactory + answer, given just before the closet door closed; “we’ll do + the way the poor relation did when he got word his uncle had willed him + one of his suits of clothes—we’ll hope for the best.” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester had a report to make. + </p> + <p> + “The other party has been here,” he said. “He has just + gone.” + </p> + <p> + “The other party? Why—you don’t mean—<i>him</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he alone? Nobody along to look after him?” + </p> + <p> + “He was alone, for a wonder. He had heard the news, too. Apparently + had just learned it.” + </p> + <p> + “He had? I want to know! Who told him?” + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t say. He was very much agitated. Wouldn’t say + anything except to ask if it was true. I think we can guess who told him.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe. Well, what did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing of importance. I refused to discuss my clients’ + affairs.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>“Right + you are! How did he take that?” + </p> + <p> + “He went up like a sky-rocket. Said he had a right to know, under + the circumstances. I admitted it, but said I could tell him nothing—yet. + He went away frantic, and I called you.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Well, Mr. Sylvester, suppose you do see him and his boss. + See ’em and tell ’em some of the truth. Don’t tell too + much though; not who was to blame nor how, but just that it looks pretty + bad so fur as the estate’s concerned. Then say you want to see + ’em again and will arrange another interview. Don’t set any + time and place for that until you hear from me. Understand?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, partially. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Until you hear from me—that’s the important part. And, + if you can, convenient, I’d have the fust interview right off; this + afternoon, if it’s possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain, what have you got up your sleeve? Why don’t you come + down here and talk it over?” + </p> + <p> + “’Cause I’m stickin’ close aboard and waitin’ + developments. Maybe there won’t be any, but I’m goin’ to + wait a spell and see. There ain’t much up my sleeve just now but + goose-flesh; there’s plenty of that. So long.” + </p> + <p> + A development came that evening. Mrs. Hepton heralded it. + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” she said, when he answered her knock, “there’s + a young gentleman to see you. I think he must be a relative of yours. His + name is Warren.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha pulled his beard. “A young <i>gentleman</i>?” + he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I showed him into the parlor. There will be no one there but + you and he, and I thought it would be more comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. I see. Well, I guess you’d better send him<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> up. + This is comfortable enough, and there won’t be nobody but him and me + here, either—and I’ll be more sartin of it.” + </p> + <p> + The landlady, who considered herself snubbed, flounced away. Captain + Elisha stepped to the head of the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Come right up, Steve!” he called. + </p> + <p> + Stephen came. His uncle ushered him into the room, closed the door, and + turned the key. + </p> + <p> + “Stevie,” he said, kindly, “I’m glad to see you. + Take off your things and set down.” + </p> + <p> + The boy accepted the invitation only to the extent of throwing his hat on + the table. He did not sit or remove his overcoat. He was pale, his eyes + were swollen and red, his hair was disarranged, and in all respects he + looked unlike his usual blasé and immaculate self. His forehead was + wet, showing that he had hurried on his way to the boarding house. + </p> + <p> + The captain regarded him pityingly. + </p> + <p> + “Set down, Stevie,” he urged. “You’re all het up + and worn out.” + </p> + <p> + His nephew paid no attention. Instead he asked a question. + </p> + <p> + “You know about it?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Stevie; I know.” + </p> + <p> + “You do? I—I mean about the—the Akrae Company and—and + all?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I know all about all of it. Do set down!” + </p> + <p> + Stephen struck his closed fist into the palm of his other hand. He wore + one glove. What had become of the other he could not have told. + </p> + <p> + “You do?” he shouted. “You do? By gad! Then do you know + what it means?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know that, too. Now, Stevie, be a good boy and set down and + keep cool. Yes, I want you to.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>He + put his hands on his nephew’s shoulders and forced him into a chair. + </p> + <p> + “Now, just calm yourself,” urged the captain. “There ain’t + a mite of use workin’ yourself up this way. I know the whole + business, and I can’t tell you—I can’t begin to tell you + how sorry I feel for you. Yet you mustn’t give up the ship because—” + </p> + <p> + “Mustn’t give up!” Stephen was on his feet again. + “Why, what are you talking about? I thought you said you knew! Do + you think that losing every cent you’ve got in the world is a <i>joke</i>? + Do you think that—See here, do you know who this shareholder is; + this fellow who’s going to rob us of all we own? Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t Mr. Sylvester tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “He said that there was such a man and that he had the estate + cinched. He told us about that note and all the rest. But he wouldn’t + tell the man’s name. Said he had been forbidden to mention it. Do + you know him? What sort of fellow is he? Don’t you think he could be + reasoned with? Hasn’t he got any decency—or pity—or—” + </p> + <p> + He choked, and the tears rushed to his eyes. He wiped them angrily away + with the back of his glove. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a crime!” he cried. “Can’t he be held + off somehow? Who <i>is</i> he? I want to know his name.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha sadly shook his head. “I’m afraid he can’t, + Stevie,” he said. “He’s got a legal right to all ’Bije + left, and more, too. It may be he won’t be too hard; perhaps he’ll + ... but there,” hastily. “I mustn’t say that. We’ve + got to face the situation as ’tis. And I can’t tell you his + name because he don’t want it mentioned unless it’s absolutely + necessary. And we don’t, either. We don’t want—any of us—to + have this get into the papers. We mustn’t have any disgrace.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>“Disgrace! + Good heavens! Isn’t there disgrace enough already? Isn’t it + enough to know father was a crook as well as an idiot? I’ve always + thought he was insane ever since that crazy will of his came to light; but + to steal! and then to leave a paper proving it, so that we’ve got to + lose everything! His children! It’s—” + </p> + <p> + “Now hold on, boy! Your dad didn’t mean to take what didn’t + belong to him—for good, that is; the note proves that. He did do + wrong and used another man’s money, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Then why didn’t he keep it? If you’re going to steal, + steal like a man, I say!” + </p> + <p> + “Steve, Steve! steady now!” The captain’s tone was + sterner. “Don’t speak that way. You’ll be sorry for it + later. I tell you I don’t condemn your father ha’f so much as + I pity him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up! You make me sick. You talk just as Caro does. I’ll + never forgive him, no matter how much she preaches, and I told her so. + Pity! Pity him! How about pity for <i>me</i>? I—I—” + </p> + <p> + His overwrought nerves gave way, and, throwing himself into the chair, he + broke down completely and, forgetting the manhood of which he was so fond + of boasting, cried like a baby. Captain Elisha turned away, to hide his + own emotion. + </p> + <p> + “It’s hard,” he said slowly. “It’s awfully + hard for you, my boy. I hate to see you suffer this way.” Then, in a + lower tone, he added doubtfully. “I wonder if—if—I + wonder—” + </p> + <p> + His nephew heard the word and interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “You wonder?” he demanded, hysterically; “you wonder + what? What are you going to do about it? It’s up to you, isn’t + it? You’re our guardian, aren’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Stevie, I’m your guardian.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>“Yes, + you are! But no one would guess it. When we didn’t want you, you + wouldn’t leave us for a minute. Now, when we need you, when there + isn’t a soul for us to turn to, you stay away. You haven’t + been near us. It’s up to you, I say! and what are you going to do + about it? What are you going to <i>do</i>?” + </p> + <p> + His uncle held up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “S-shh!” he said. “Don’t raise your voice like + that, son! I can hear you without that, and we don’t want anybody + else to hear. What am I goin’ to do? Stevie, I don’t know + exactly. I ain’t made up my mind yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s time you did!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I guess likely ’tis. As for my not comin’ to see + you, you know the reason for that. I’d have come quick enough, but I + wa’n’t sure I’d be welcome. And I told your sister only + ’tother day that—by the way, Steve, how is she? How is + Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + “She’s a fool!” The boy sprang up again and shook his + fist. “She’s the one I’ve come here to speak about. If + we don’t stop her she’ll ruin us altogether. She—she’s + a damned fool, I tell you!” + </p> + <p> + “There! there!” the captain’s tone was sharp and + emphatic. “That’s enough of that,” he said. “I don’t + want to hear you call your sister names. What do you mean by it?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean what I say. She <i>is</i> a fool. Do you know what she’s + done? She’s written Mal Dunn all about it! I’d have stopped + her, but I didn’t know until it was too late. She’s told him + the whole thing.” + </p> + <p> + “She has? About ’Bije?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps she didn’t tell him father was a thief, but she + did tell that the estate was gone—that we were flat broke and worse.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum!” Captain Elisha seemed more gratified than<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> + displeased. “Hum!... Well, I kind of expected she would. Knowin’ + her, I kind of expected it.” + </p> + <p> + “You did?” Stephen glared in wrathful amazement. “You + expected it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. What of it?” + </p> + <p> + “What <i>of</i> it? Why, everything! Can’t you see? Mal’s + our only chance. If she marries him she’ll be looked out for and so + will I. She needn’t have told him until they were married. The + wedding could have been hurried along; the Dunns were crazy to have it as + soon as possible. Now—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Steve! Belay! What difference does her tellin’ him + make? Maybe she hasn’t mentioned it to you, but I had a talk with + your sister the other mornin’. She thinks the world of Malcolm, and + he does of her. She told me so herself. Of <i>course</i> she’d go to + him in her trouble. And he’ll be proud—yes, and glad to know + that he can help her. As for the weddin’, I don’t see that + this’ll have any effect except to hurry it up a little more, maybe.” + </p> + <p> + Steve looked at him suspiciously, but there was no trace of sarcasm in the + captain’s face or voice. The boy scowled. + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” he grunted. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the ‘ugh’ for? See here, you ain’t + hintin’ that young Dunn was cal’latin’ to marry Caroline + just for her money, are you? Of course you ain’t! Why, you and he + are the thickest sort of chums. You wouldn’t chum with a feller who + would play such a trick as that on your own sister.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen’s scowl deepened. He thrust his hands into his pocket, and + shifted his feet uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t understand,” he said. “People don’t + do things here as they do where you come from.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>“I + understand that, all right,” with dry emphasis. “I’ve + been here long enough to understand that. But maybe I don’t + understand <i>you</i>. Heave ahead, and make it plain.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—well, then—I mean this: I don’t know that + Mal was after Caro’s money, but—but he had a right to expect + <i>some</i>. If he didn’t, why, then her not telling him until after + they were married wouldn’t have made any difference. And—and + if her tellin’ him beforehand <i>should</i> make a difference and he + wanted to break the engagement, she’s just romantic fool enough to + let him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Well?</i> If she doesn’t marry him, who’s going to + take care of her? What’s going to become of <i>me</i>? We haven’t + a cent. What kind of a guardian are you? Do you want us to starve?” + </p> + <p> + He was shouting again. The captain was calm. “Oh,” he said, + “I guess it won’t reach to the starvation point. I’m a + pretty tough old critter, ’cordin’ to your estimate, but I + shouldn’t let my brother’s children starve. If the wust comes + to the wust, there’s always a home and plenty to eat for you both at + South Denboro.” + </p> + <p> + This offer did not appear to comfort the young gentleman greatly. His + disgust was evident. + </p> + <p> + “South Denboro!” he repeated, scornfully. “Gad!... South + Denboro!” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. But we’ll let South Denboro alone for now and stick to + New York. What is it you expect me to do? What are you drivin’ at?” + </p> + <p> + Stephen shook a forefinger in his guardian’s face. + </p> + <p> + “I expect you to make her stick to her engagement,” he cried. + “And make her make him stick. She can, can’t she? It’s + been announced, hasn’t it? Everybody<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> knows of it! She’s + got the right—the legal right to hold him, hasn’t she?” + </p> + <p> + His uncle regarded him with a quizzical smile. “Why, ye-es,” + he answered, “I cal’late she has, maybe. Course, there’s + no danger of his wantin’ to do such a thing, but if he should I + presume likely we could make it uncomfortable for him, anyhow. What are + you hankerin’ for, Steve—a breach-of-promise suit? I’ve + always understood those sort of cases were kind of unpleasant—for + everybody but the newspapers.” + </p> + <p> + The boy was in deadly earnest. “Pleasant!” he repeated. + “Is any of this business pleasant? You make her act like a sensible + girl! You’re her guardian, and you make her! And, after that, if he + tries to hedge, you tell him a few things. You can hold him! Do it! <i>Do</i> + it!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha turned on his heel and began pacing up and down the room. + His nephew watched him eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he demanded, after a moment, “what are we going + to do? Are we going to make him make good?” + </p> + <p> + The captain paused. “Steve,” he answered, deliberately, + “I ain’t sure as we are. And, as I’ve said, if he’s + got a spark of decency, it won’t be necessary for us to try. If it + should be—if it should be—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, <i>if</i> it should be?” + </p> + <p> + “Then we can try, that’s all. Maybe you run a course a little + different from me, Stevie; you navigate ’cordin’ to your + ideas, and I do by mine. But in some ways we ain’t so fur apart. + Son,” with a grim nod, “you rest easy on one thing—the + Corcoran Dunn fleet is goin’ to show its colors.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XIX + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">C</span>aroline + sat by the library window, her chin in her hand, drearily watching the + sleet as it beat against the panes, and the tops of the Park trees lashing + in the wind. Below, in the street, the trolleys passed in their + never-ending procession, the limousines and cabs whizzed forlornly by, and + the few pedestrians pushed dripping umbrellas against the gale. A wet, + depressing afternoon, as hopeless as her thoughts, and growing darker and + more miserable hourly. + </p> + <p> + Stephen, standing by the fire, kicked the logs together and sent a shower + of sparks flying. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, say something, Caro, do!” he snapped testily. “Don’t + sit there glowering; you give me the horrors.” + </p> + <p> + She roused from her reverie, turned, and tried to smile. + </p> + <p> + “What shall I say?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. But say something, for heaven’s sake! + Talk about the weather, if you can’t think of anything more + original.” + </p> + <p> + “The weather isn’t a very bright subject just now.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t say it was; but it’s <i>a</i> subject. I hope + to goodness it doesn’t prevent Sylvester’s keeping his + appointment. He’s late, as it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he?” wearily. “I hadn’t noticed.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you hadn’t. You don’t notice anything. It + doesn’t help matters to pull a long face and go moping around wiping + your eyes. You’ve got to use philosophy in times like this. It’s + just as hard for me as it is for you; and I try to make the best of it, + don’t I?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>She + might have reminded him that his philosophy was a very recent acquisition. + When the news of their poverty first came he was the one who raved and + sobbed and refused to contemplate anything less direful than slow + starvation or quick suicide. She had soothed and comforted then. Since the + previous evening, when he had gone out, in spite of her protestations, and + left her alone, his manner had changed. He was still nervous and + irritable, but no longer threatened self-destruction, and seemed, for some + unexplained reason, more hopeful and less desperate. Sylvester had ’phoned, + saying that he would call at the apartment at two, and since Stephen had + received the message he had been in a state of suppressed excitement, + scarcely keeping still for five minutes at a time. + </p> + <p> + “It is just as hard for me as it is for you, isn’t it?” + he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Steve, I suppose it is.” + </p> + <p> + “You suppose? Don’t you know? Oh, do quit thinking about Mal + Dunn and pay attention to me.” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer. He regarded her with disgust. + </p> + <p> + “You are thinking of Mal, of course,” he declared. “What’s + the use? You know what <i>I</i> think: you were a fool to write him that + letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t, Steve; please don’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you know he didn’t get the letter? I was so + nervous and over-wrought that I misdirected it.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! Has he ever stayed away from you so long before? Or his + precious mother, either? Why doesn’t she come to see you? She + scarcely missed a day before this happened. Nonsense! I guess he got it + all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Steve, stop! stop! Don’t dare speak like that. Do you realize + what you are insinuating? You don’t believe<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> it! You know you don’t! + Shame on you! I’m ashamed of my brother! No! not another word of + that kind, or I shall leave the room.” + </p> + <p> + She had risen to her feet. He looked at her determined face and turned + away. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well,” he muttered, sullenly, “maybe you’re + right. I don’t say you’re not. Perhaps he didn’t get the + letter. You sent it to his office, and he may have been called out of + town. But his mother—” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Dunn was not well when I last saw her. She may be ill.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps. But if you’re so sure about them, why not let it go + at that? What’s the use of fretting?” + </p> + <p> + “I was not thinking of them—then.” + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, she had been thinking of her uncle, Elisha Warren. As + the time dragged by, she thought of him more and more—not as the + uncouth countryman whose unwelcome presence had been forced into her life; + nor as the hypocrite whose insult to her father’s memory she never + could forgive or whose double-dealing had been, as she thought, revealed; + but as the man who, with the choke in his voice and the tears in his eyes, + bade her remember that, whenever she needed help, he was ready and glad to + give it. + </p> + <p> + She did not doubt Malcolm’s loyalty. Her brother’s hints and + insinuations found no echo in her thoughts. In the note which she had + written her fiancé she told of the loss of their fortune, though + not of her father’s shame. That she could not tell; nor did she ask + Malcolm to come to her—her pride would not permit that. She wrote + simply of her great trouble and trusted the rest to him. That he had not + come was due—so she kept repeating to herself—solely to the + fact that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> + had not received her letter. She knew that was it—she knew it. And + yet—and yet he did not come. + </p> + <p> + So, in her loneliness and misery, her guardian’s words returned + again and again to her memory: “Sometimes when things look all right + they turn out to be all wrong. If ever there comes a time like that to you + and Steve, remember you’ve got me to turn to.” The time had + come when she must turn to someone. + </p> + <p> + She would never go to him; she vowed it. She would not accept his help if + he came to her. But, if he was sincere, if he meant what he said, why did + he not come again to proffer it? Because he was not sincere, of course. + That had been proven long before. She despised him. But his face, as she + last saw it, refused to be banished from her mind. It looked so strong, + and yet gentle and loving, like the face of a protector, one to be trusted + through good times and bad. Oh, this wicked, wicked world, and the shams + and sorrows in it! “Malcolm, why don’t you come to me?” + </p> + <p> + Stephen uttered an exclamation. Looking up, she saw him hurrying toward + the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Someone’s at the door,” he explained. “It’s + Sylvester, of course. I’ll let him in.” + </p> + <p> + It was not the lawyer but a messenger boy with a note. Stephen returned to + the library with the missive in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “He couldn’t get here, Caro,” he said, excitedly. + “Wants us to come right down to his office. Hurry up! Get your + things on. The cab’s waiting. Come! Rush! It may be important.” + </p> + <p> + The cab, an electric vehicle, made good time, and they soon reached the + Pine Street offices, where they were ushered at once into the senior + partner’s presence. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>“Step + into the other room,” said Mr. Sylvester, “and wait there, + please. I’ll join you shortly.” + </p> + <p> + The room was the large one where the momentous conference between Captain + Elisha and the three lawyers had so recently taken place. Caroline seated + herself in one of the chairs. Stephen walked the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Hope he doesn’t keep us waiting long,” he fumed. + “I thought of course he was ready or he wouldn’t have sent for + us.” + </p> + <p> + “Ready?” his sister looked at him, questioningly. “Ready + for what?” she repeated, with sudden suspicion. “Steve, do you + know what Mr. Sylvester wishes to see us about?” + </p> + <p> + Her brother colored and seemed a bit disconcerted. “How should I + know?” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Is it something new about the estate or that man who owns it? You + do know something! I can see it in your face. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. How should I know what it is?” + </p> + <p> + “But you do. I believe you do. Look at me! What does Mr. Sylvester + want of us?” + </p> + <p> + The boy hesitated; then whirled and faced her. “See here, Caro,” + he said, “maybe I do know something—or I can guess. Now, + whatever happens, you’ve got to be a sensible girl. Certain things + have to be dealt with in a practical way, and we’re practical + people. Sentiment—and pride—and all that sort of stuff, are + well enough, but business is business and an engagement is an engagement. + Now it’s right up to you and—” + </p> + <p> + “Steve, what are you talking about?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all right. I know what I’m talking about. + Somebody in the family must use common sense, and when it comes to holding + a person to a promise, then—Confound it, Sis, we can’t starve, + can we?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>“What + do you mean?” She rose and advanced toward him. “What do you + mean by a promise? What have you been doing?” + </p> + <p> + His confusion increased. He avoided her eyes and moved sullenly toward the + other side of the table. + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t done anything,” he grumbled, “that is, + I’ve done what any reasonable fellow would do. I’m not the + only one who thinks.... Look here! We’ve got a guardian, haven’t + we?” + </p> + <p> + “A guardian! a <i>guardian</i>! Stephen Warren, have you been to + him? Have you—Was <i>that</i> where you were last night?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I—” + </p> + <p> + “Answer me!” + </p> + <p> + “What if I have? Whom else am I to go to? Isn’t he—” + </p> + <p> + “But why did you go to him? What did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I said—I said—Never mind what I said. He agrees with + me, I can tell you that. You’ll thank your stars I did go, before + very long. I.... S-sh! Here’s Sylvester.” + </p> + <p> + The door of the room opened. The person who entered, however, was not the + lawyer, but the very man of whom they had been speaking, Captain Elisha + himself. He closed the door behind him. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Stevie,” he said, with a nod to the boy. Then, turning + to his niece, he stepped forward and held out his hand. “Caroline,” + he began, “I don’t doubt you’re some surprised to see me + here; but I.... Why, what’s the matter?” + </p> + <p> + The faces of the pair led him to ask the question. Stephen’s was red + and he looked embarrassed and guilty. Caroline’s was white, and she + glanced from her brother to her guardian and back again, with flashing + eyes. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>“What’s + the matter?” repeated the captain. “Steve,” sharply, + “have you been making a fool of yourself again? What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” was the sulky answer; “nothing of + consequence. Caro is—well, I happened to mention that I called on + you last night and—and she doesn’t seem to like it, that’s + all. As I told her, somebody in the family had to use common sense, and + you were our guardian and naturally, under the circumstances.... Why, I’ll + leave it to anyone!” with a burst of righteous indignation. “You + <i>are</i> our guardian.” + </p> + <p> + He proclaimed it as if he expected a denial. Captain Elisha frowned. + “Humph!” he grunted. “That ain’t exactly news, is + it, Steve? Seems to me we’ve taken up that p’int afore; + though, as I remember, you didn’t used to be sot on all hands knowin’ + it,” with dry sarcasm. “I don’t need even your common + sense to remind me of it just at this minute. Caroline, your brother did + come to see me last night. I was glad he did.” + </p> + <p> + She ignored him. “Steve,” she demanded, still facing the young + man, “was this, too, a part of your plan? Did you bring me here to + meet—him?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn’t. Sylvester was to come to see us. You know that; + he telephoned. I didn’t know—” + </p> + <p> + The captain interrupted. “There, there, son!” he exclaimed, + “let me say a word. No, Caroline, Stevie didn’t know I was to + meet you here. But I thought it was necessary that I should. Set down, + please. I know you must be worn out, poor girl.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t wish to sit. I want to know what my brother called to + see you about.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there was some matters he wanted to talk over.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>“What + were they? Concerning the estate?” + </p> + <p> + “Partly that.” + </p> + <p> + “Partly? What else? Captain Warren, my brother has hinted—he + has said—What does he mean by holding someone to a promise? Answer + me truthfully.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t answer you any other way, Caroline. Steve seems + to be worried about—now you mustn’t mind my speakin’ + plain, Caroline; the time’s come when I’ve got to—Steve + seems to be worried about the young man you’re engaged to. He seems + to cal’late that Mr. Dunn may want to slip out of that engagement.” + </p> + <p> + His niece looked at him. Then she turned to her brother. “You went + to <i>him</i> and.... Oh, how <i>could</i> you!” + </p> + <p> + Stephen would not meet her gaze. “Well,” he muttered + rebelliously, “why wouldn’t I? You know yourself that Mal hasn’t + been near you since it happened. If he wasn’t after—if he was + straight, he would have come, wouldn’t he? Mind, I don’t say + he isn’t—perhaps he doesn’t know. But, at any rate, + something must be done. We had to face possibilities, and you wouldn’t + listen to me. I tried—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” she cut him short, imperiously. “Don’t + make me hate you. And you,” turning to her uncle, “did <i>you</i> + listen and believe such things? Did you encourage him to believe them? Oh, + I know what you think of my friends! I heard it from your own lips. And I + know why you think it. Because they know what you are; because they + exposed you and—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there! Caroline, you needn’t go on. I’ve heard + your opinion of my character afore. Never mind me for the minute. And, if + you’ll remember, <i>I</i> ain’t said that I doubted your young + man. You told me that you thought the world and all of him and that he did + of you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> + That’s enough—or ought to be. But your brother says you wrote + him two days ago and he ain’t been near you.” + </p> + <p> + “I misdirected the letter. He didn’t receive it.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. I see. That would explain.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it would. That <i>must</i> be the reason.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, seem’s if it must.” + </p> + <p> + “It is. What right have you to doubt it? Oh, how can you think such + things? Can you suppose the man I am to marry is so despicable—so <i>mean</i> + as to—as to—I’m ashamed to say it. Why do you presume + that money has any part in our engagement? Such trouble as mine only makes + it more binding. Do you suppose if <i>he</i> were poor as—as I am, + that I would desert <i>him</i>? You know I wouldn’t. I should be + glad—yes, almost happy, because then I could show him—could—” + </p> + <p> + Her voice failed her. She put her handkerchief to her eyes for an instant + and then snatched it away and faced them, her head erect. The pride in her + face was reflected in Captain Elisha’s as he regarded her. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he said gently, “I never supposed you’d + act but in one way, Caroline. I knew <i>you</i>. And, as Steve’ll + tell you, I said to him almost the same words you’ve been sayin’. + If Malcolm’s what he’d ought to be, I said, he’ll be + glad of the chance to prove how much he cares for your sister. But Steve + appeared to have some misgivin’s, and so—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, turned toward the door, and seemed to be listening. Caroline + flashed an indignant glance at her brother. + </p> + <p> + “And so?” she asked, scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “And so,” continued the captain, with a slight change in his + tone, “it seemed to me that his doubts ought to be settled. And,” + rising, as there came a tap at the door, “I cal’late they’re + goin’ to be.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>He + walked briskly over and opened the door. Sylvester was standing without. + </p> + <p> + “Come, have they?” inquired Captain Elisha. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Fetch ’em right in here. Steve, stand over nigher that + corner. This way, Caroline, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + He took his niece by the arm and led her to the side of the room not + visible from the doorway. She was too astonished to resist, but asked an + agitated question. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” she cried. “Who is coming?” + </p> + <p> + “Some friends of yours,” was the quiet reply. “Nothin’ + to be frightened about. Steve, stay where you are.” + </p> + <p> + The boy was greatly excited. “Is it they?” he demanded. + “Is it? By gad! Now, Sis, be a sensible girl. If he should try to + hedge, you hold him. Hold him! Understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Steve, be quiet,” ordered the captain.... “Ah, Mrs. + Dunn, good afternoon, ma’am. Mr. Dunn, good afternoon, sir.” + </p> + <p> + For the pair who, followed by Sylvester, now entered the room were Mrs. + Corcoran Dunn and Malcolm. + </p> + <p> + They were past the sill before Captain Elisha’s greeting caused them + to turn and see the three already there. Mrs. Dunn, who was in the lead, + stopped short in her majestic though creaking march of entrance, and her + florid face turned a brighter crimson. Her son, strolling languidly at her + heels, started violently and dropped his hat. The lawyer, bringing up in + the rear, closed the door and remained standing near it. Caroline uttered + an exclamation of surprise. Her brother drew himself haughtily erect. + Captain Elisha remained unperturbed and smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Good afternoon, ma’am,” he repeated. “It’s + been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> + some time since you and I run across each other. I hope you’re + feelin’ pretty smart.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn had faced some unpleasant situations in her life and had proved + equal to them. Usually, however, she had been prepared beforehand. For + this she had not been prepared—as yet. She had come to the offices + of Sylvester, Kuhn, and Graves, at the senior partner’s request, to + be told, as she supposed, the full and final details of the financial + disaster threatening the Warren family. If those details should prove the + disaster as overwhelming as it appeared, then—well, then, certain + disagreeable duties must be performed. But to meet the girl to whom her + son was engaged, and whom she and he had carefully avoided meeting until + the lawyers should acquaint them with the whole truth—to meet this + girl, and her brother, and her guardian, thus unexpectedly and unprepared, + was enough to shake the composure and nerve of even such a veteran + campaigner as Mrs. M. Corcoran Dunn. + </p> + <p> + But of the three to whom the meeting was an absolute surprise,—Caroline, + Malcolm and herself—she was characteristically the first to regain + outward serenity. For a moment she stood nonplused and speechless, but + only for a moment. Then she hastened, with outstretched arms, to Caroline + and clasped her in affectionate embrace. + </p> + <p> + “My dear child!” she cried; “my dear girl! I’m <i>so</i> + glad to see you! I’ve thought of you so much! And I pity you so. + Poor Malcolm has—Malcolm,” sharply, “come here! Don’t + you see Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm was groping nervously for his hat. He picked it up and obeyed his + mother’s summons, though with no great eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “How d’ye do, Caroline,” he stammered, confusedly.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> + “I—I—It’s a deuce of a surprise to see you down + here. The mater and I didn’t expect—that is, we scarcely hoped + to meet anyone but Sylvester. He sent for us, you know.” + </p> + <p> + He extended his hand. She did not take it. + </p> + <p> + “Did you get my letter?” she asked, quickly. Mrs. Dunn + answered for him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear, he got it,” she said. “The poor fellow was + almost crazy. I began to fear for his sanity; I did, indeed. I did not + dare trust him out of my sight. Oh, if you could but know how we feel for + you and pity you!” + </p> + <p> + Pity was not what Caroline wanted just then. The word jarred upon her. She + avoided the lady’s embrace and once more faced the embarrassed + Malcolm. + </p> + <p> + “You got my letter?” she cried. “You <i>did</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—er—yes, I got it, Caroline. I—by Jove, you + know—” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated, stammered, and looked thoroughly uncomfortable. His mother + regarded him wrathfully. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she snapped, “why don’t you go on? + Caroline, dear, you really must excuse him. The dear boy is quite + overcome.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha stepped forward. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me for interruptin’, ma’am,” he said, + addressing the ruffled matron; “but I know you’re sort of + surprised to see us all here and maybe I’d better explain. Mr. + Sylvester told me you and your son had an appointment with him for this + afternoon. Now there was something we—or I, anyhow—wanted to + talk with you about, so I thought we might as well make one job of it. + Sylvester’s a pretty busy man, and I know he has other things to + attend to; so why not let him go ahead and tell you what you come to hear, + and then we can take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg + 304]</a></span> up the other part by ourselves. He’s told me what + you wanted to see him about, and it’s somethin’ we’re + all interested in, bein’ as we’re one family—or goin’ + to be pretty soon. So suppose he just tells you now. Ain’t that a + good idea?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn looked at the speaker, and then at the lawyer, and seemed to + have caught some of her son’s embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “I—we did have an appointment with Mr. Sylvester,” she + admitted, reluctantly; “but the business was not important. And,” + haughtily, “I do not care to discuss it here.” + </p> + <p> + The captain opened his eyes. “Hey?” he exclaimed. “Not + important? You surprise me, ma’am. I judged ’twas mighty + important. ’Twas about the real size of your father’s estate, + Caroline,” turning to the girl. “I thought Mrs. Dunn and Mr. + Malcolm must think ’twas important, for I understand they’ve + been telephonin’ and askin’ for appointments for the last two + days. Why, yes! and they come way down here in all this storm on purpose + to talk it over with him. Am I wrong? Ain’t that so, ma’am?” + </p> + <p> + It was so, and Mrs. Dunn could not well deny it. Therefore, she took + refuge in a contemptuous silence. The captain nodded. + </p> + <p> + “As to discussin’ it here,” he went on with bland + innocence, “why, we’re all family folks, same as I said, and + there ain’t any secrets between us on <i>that</i> subject. So + suppose we all listen while Mr. Sylvester tells just what he’d have + told you and Mr. Malcolm. It’s pretty hard to hear; but bad news is + soon told. Heave ahead, Mr. Sylvester.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn made one more attempt to avoid the crisis she saw was + approaching. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>“Surely, + Caroline,” she said testily, “you don’t wish your + private affairs treated in this public manner. Come, let us go.” + </p> + <p> + She laid a hand on the girl’s arm. Captain Elisha quietly + interposed. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he said. “We’ll all stay here. There’s + nothin’ public about it.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline, crimson with mortification, protested indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Sylvester,” she said, “it is not necessary to—” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me;” her uncle’s tone was sharper and more + stern; “I think it is. Go on, Sylvester.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer looked far from comfortable, but he spoke at once and to the + point. + </p> + <p> + “I should have told you and your son just this, Mrs. Dunn,” he + said. “I intimated it before, and Miss Warren had already written + you the essential facts. A new and unexpected development, the nature of + which I am not at liberty to disclose now or later, makes Abijah Warren’s + estate absolutely bankrupt. Not only that, but many thousand dollars in + debt. His heirs are left penniless. That is the plain truth, I’m + very sorry to say. There is no hope of anything better. You’ll + forgive me, Miss Warren, I hope, for putting it so bluntly; but I thought + it best to avoid every possible misunderstanding.” + </p> + <p> + It was blunt, beyond doubt. Even Captain Elisha winced at the word “penniless.” + Stephen muttered under his breath and turned his back. Caroline, swaying, + put a hand on the table to steady herself. The Dunns looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Sylvester,” said the captain, quietly. “I’ll + see you again in a few moments.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer bowed and left the room, evidently glad to escape. Captain + Elisha turned to Mrs. Dunn. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>“And + now, ma’am,” he observed, “that part of the business is + over. The next part’s even more in the family, so I thought we didn’t + need legal advice. You see just how matters stand. My niece is a poor + girl. She needs somebody to support her and look out for her. She’s + got that somebody, we’re all thankful to say. She’s engaged to + Mr. Malcolm here. And, as you’re his ma, Mrs. Dunn, and I’m + Caroline’s guardian, us old folks’ll take our affairs in hand; + they needn’t listen, if they don’t want to. I understand from + Steve that Malcolm’s been mighty anxious to have the weddin’ + day hurried along. I can’t say as I blame him. And <i>I</i> think + the sooner they’re married the better. Now, how soon can we make it, + Mrs. Dunn?” + </p> + <p> + This unexpected and matter-of-fact query was variously received. Mrs. Dunn + frowned and flushed. Malcolm frowned, also. Steve nodded emphatic + approval. As for Caroline, she gazed at her guardian in horrified + amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Why!” she cried. “You—you—What do you mean + by such—” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be an idiot, Caro!” cut in her brother. “I + told you to be sensible. Captain Warren’s dead right.” + </p> + <p> + “Stevie, you stay out of this.” There was no misunderstanding + the captain’s tone. “When I want your opinion I’ll ask + for it. And, Caroline, I want you to stay out, too. This is my trick at + the wheel. Mrs. Dunn, what d’you say? Never mind the young folks. + You and me know that marriage is business, same as everything else. How + soon can we have the weddin’?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn had, apparently, nothing to say—to him. She addressed her + next remark to Caroline. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” she said, in great agitation, “this is really + too dreadful. This—er—guardian of yours appears<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> to + think he is in some barbarous country—ordering the savages about. + Come! Malcolm, take her away.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” Captain Elisha stepped in front of the door. “She + ain’t goin’; and I’d rather you wouldn’t go yet. + Let’s settle this up now. I ain’t askin’ anything + unreasonable. Caroline’s under my charge, and I’ve got to plan + for her. Your boy’s just crazy to marry her; he’s been beggin’ + for her to name the day. Let’s name it. It needn’t be + to-morrow. I cal’late you’ll want to get out invitations and + such. It needn’t be next week. But just say about when it can be; + then I’ll know how to plan. That ain’t much to ask, sartin.” + </p> + <p> + Much or little, neither Mrs. Dunn nor her son appeared ready to answer. + Malcolm fidgeted with his hat and gloves; his mother fanned herself with + her handkerchief. Caroline, frantic with humiliation and shame, would have + protested again, but her guardian’s stern shake of the head silenced + her. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mr. Dunn,” turning to the groom-to-be; “you’re + one of the interested parties—what do you say?” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm ground his heel into the rug. “I don’t consider it + your business,” he declared. “You’re butting in where—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I ain’t. It’s my business, and business is just + <i>what</i> it is. Your ma knows that. She and I had a real confidential + up and down talk on love and marriage, and she’s the one that proved + to me that marryin’ in high society, like yours and the kind + Caroline’s been circulatin’ in, was business and mighty little + else. There’s a business contract between you and my niece. We want + to know how soon it can be carried out, that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + The young man looked desperately at the door; but<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> the captain’s + broad shoulders blocked the way towards it. He hesitated, scowled, and + then, with a shrug of his shoulders, surrendered. + </p> + <p> + “How can I marry?” he demanded sullenly. “Confound it! + my salary isn’t large enough to pay my own way, decently.” + </p> + <p> + “Malcolm!” cried his mother, warningly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mater, what the devil’s the use of all this? You + know.... By Jove! you <i>ought</i> to!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, young feller! I don’t understand. Your wages ain’t + large enough, you say? What do you mean? You was <i>goin’</i> to be + married, wasn’t you?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn plunged to the rescue, a forlorn hope, but desperate, and + fighting to the end. + </p> + <p> + “An outrage!” she blurted. “Malcolm, I forbid you to + continue this disgusting conversation. Caroline, my poor child, I don’t + blame you for this, but I call on you to stop it at once. My dear, I—” + </p> + <p> + She advanced toward the girl with outstretched arms. Caroline recoiled. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t! don’t!” she gasped. Captain Elisha spoke + up sharp and stern. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, “but I’ll be + obliged if you’ll wait a minute. Caroline, don’t you say a + word. You say—you—” addressing Malcolm, “that you + can’t support a wife on your wages. You surprise me some, considerin’ + the swath you’ve been cuttin’ on ’em—but never + mind that. Maybe they won’t keep automobiles and—er—other + things I’ve heard you was interested in, but if you cut them out and + economize a little, same as young married folks I’ve known have been + glad to do, you could scrape along, couldn’t you? Hey? Couldn’t + you?” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm’s answer was another scornful shrug. “You<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> + belong on Cape Cod,” he sneered. “Mater, let’s get out + of this.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait! Put it plain now. Do I understand that you cal’late to + break the engagement because my niece has lost her money? Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dunn realized that the inevitable was upon them. After all, it might + as well be faced now as later. + </p> + <p> + “This is ridiculous,” she proclaimed. “Every sane person + knows—though <i>barbarians</i> may not—” with a venomous + glare at the captain—“that, in engagements of the kind in + which my son shared, a certain amount of—er—financial—er—that + is, the bride is supposed to have some money. It is expected. Of course it + is! Love in a cottage is—well—a bit <i>passé</i>. My + son and I pity your niece from the bottom of our hearts, but—there! + under the circumstances the whole affair becomes impossible. Caroline, my + dear, I’m dreadfully sorry, dreadfully! I love you like my own + child. And poor Malcolm will be heartbroken—but—you <i>see</i>.” + </p> + <p> + She extended her hand in a gesture of utter helplessness. Stephen, who had + been fuming and repressing his rage with difficulty during the scene, + leaped forward with brandished fist. + </p> + <p> + “By gad!” he shouted. “Mal Dunn, you cad—” + </p> + <p> + His uncle pushed him back with a sweep of his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Steve,” he ordered, “I’m runnin’ this ship.” + He gave a quick glance at his niece, and then added, speaking rapidly and + addressing the head of the Dunn family, “I see, ma’am. Yes, + yes, I see. Well, you’ve forgot one thing, I guess. Caroline’s + lived in high society, too. And I’ve been in it a spell, myself. And + Steve’s a boy, but he’s got a business head. If there’s + nothin’ in marriage but business, then an engagement is what I just + called it, a business contract, and it can’t be broke without<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> the + consent of both sides. You wanted Caroline’s money; maybe she wants + yours now. If she does, and there’s such a thing as law, why, + perhaps she can get it.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the talk!” cried Stephen exultingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yup; perhaps she can. She may be a business woman, too, you know. + If money and style and social position’s what counts and she wants + to force you to keep your promise, why, I’m her guardian and she can + count on me to back her up. What do you say, Caroline? I’m at your + service. I—” + </p> + <p> + But Caroline interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” she cried wildly. “Oh, stop! Do you think—do + you suppose I would marry him now? <i>Now</i>, after I’ve seen what + he is? Oh,” with a shudder of disgust, “when I think what I + might have done, I.... Thank God that the money has gone! I’m glad I’m + poor! I’m <i>glad</i>!” + </p> + <p> + “Caro, you fool!” shrieked Stephen. She did not heed him. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go!” she cried. “Let me get away from him; from + this room! I never want to see him or think of him again. Please! <i>please</i> + let me go! Oh, take me home! Captain Warren, <i>please</i> let me go home!” + </p> + <p> + Her uncle was at her side in a moment. “Yes, yes, dearie,” he + said, “I’ll take you home. Don’t give way now! I’ll—” + </p> + <p> + He would have taken her arm, but she shrank from him. + </p> + <p> + “Not you!” she begged. “Steve!” + </p> + <p> + The captain’s face clouded, but he answered promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course—Steve,” he agreed. “Steve, take your + sister home. Mr. Sylvester’s got a carriage waitin’, and he’ll + go with you, I don’t doubt. Do as I tell you, boy—and behave + yourself. Don’t wait; go!” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>He + held the door open until the hysterical girl and her brother had departed. + Then he turned to the Dunns. + </p> + <p> + “Well, ma’am,” he said, dryly. “I don’t know’s + there’s anything more to be said. All the questions seem to be + settled. Our acquaintance wa’n’t so awful long, but it was + interestin’. Knowin’ you has been, as the feller said, a + liberal education. Don’t let me keep you any longer. Good afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped away from the door. Malcolm and his mother remained standing, + for an instant, where they were when Caroline left. + </p> + <p> + The young man looked as if he would enjoy choking someone, the captain + preferably, but said nothing. Then Mrs. Dunn bethought herself of a way to + make their exit less awkward and embarrassing. + </p> + <p> + “My heart!” she said, gasping, and with a clutch at her + breast. “My poor heart! I—I fear I’m going to have one + of my attacks. Malcolm, your arm—quick!” + </p> + <p> + With an expression of intense but patient suffering, and leaning heavily + upon her son’s arm, she moved past Captain Elisha and from the room. + </p> + <hr class="medium" /> + <p> + That evening the captain stood in the lower hall of the apartment house at + Central Park West, undecided what to do next. He wished more than anything + else in the world to go to his niece. He would have gone to her before—had + been dying to go, to soothe, to comfort, to tell her of his love—but + he was afraid. His conscience troubled him. Perhaps he had been too + brutal. Perhaps he shouldn’t have acted as he did. Maybe forcing the + Dunn fleet to show its colors could have been done more diplomatically. He + had wanted her to see those colors for herself, to actually see them. But + he might have overdone it. He remembered how she<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> shrank from him and + turned to her brother. She might hate him more than ever now. If so, then + the whole scheme under which he was working fell to pieces. + </p> + <p> + He was worried about Steve, too. That young man would, naturally, be + furious with his sister for what he would consider her romantic + foolishness. He had been warned to behave himself; but would he? Captain + Elisha paced up and down the marble floor before the elevator cage and + wondered whether his visiting the apartment would be a wise move or a + foolish one. + </p> + <p> + The elevator descended, the door of the cage opened, and Stephen himself + darted out. His face was red, he was scowling fiercely, and he strode + toward the street without looking in his guardian’s direction. + </p> + <p> + The captain caught him as he passed. + </p> + <p> + “Here, boy!” he exclaimed; “where’s the fire? + Where are you bound?” + </p> + <p> + His nephew, brought thus unexpectedly to a halt, stared at him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s you!” he exclaimed. “Humph! I’m + bound—I don’t know where I’m bound!” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t, hey? Well, you can cruise a long ways on a v’yage + like that. What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, let me alone! I’m going to the club, I guess, or + somewhere. Anyhow, I won’t stay with her. I told her so. Silly + little idiot! By gad, she understands what I think of her conduct. I’ll + never speak to her again. I told her so. She—” + </p> + <p> + “Here! Belay! Stop! Who are you talking about?” + </p> + <p> + “Caro, of course. She—” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve run off and left her alone—to-night? Where is + she?” + </p> + <p> + “Upstairs—and crying, I suppose. She doesn’t do<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> + anything else. It’s all she’s good for. Selfish, romantic—” + </p> + <p> + He got no further, for Captain Elisha sent him reeling with a push and ran + to the elevator. + </p> + <p> + “Eighth floor,” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + The door of the apartment was not latched. Stephen, in his rage and hurry, + had neglected such trifles. The captain opened it quietly and walked in. + He entered the library. Caroline was lying on the couch, her head buried + in the pillows. She did not hear him cross the room. He leaned over and + touched her shoulder. She started, looked, and sat up, gazing at him as + though not certain whether he was a dream or reality. + </p> + <p> + And he looked at her, at her pretty face, now so white and careworn, at + her eyes, at the tear-stains on her cheeks, and his whole heart went out + to her. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, dearie,” he faltered, “forgive me for comin’ + here, won’t you? I had to come. I couldn’t leave you alone; I + couldn’t rest, thinkin’ of you alone in your trouble. I know + you must feel harder than ever towards me for this afternoon’s doin’s, + but I meant it for the best. I <i>had</i> to show you—don’t + you see? Can you forgive me? Won’t you try to forgive the old feller + that loves you more’n all the world? Won’t you try?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him, wide-eyed, clasping and unclasping her hands. + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> forgive <i>you</i>?” she repeated, incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Try to, dearie. Oh, if you would only believe I meant it for + your good, and nothin’ else! If you could only just trust me and + come to me and let me help you. I want you, my girl, I want you!” + </p> + <p> + She leaned forward. “Do you really mean it?” she cried. + “How can you? after all I’ve done? after the way I’ve + treated you? and the things I’ve said? You<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> must <i>hate</i> me! + Everyone does. I hate myself! You can’t forgive me! You can’t!” + </p> + <p> + His answer was to hold out his arms. Another moment and she was in them, + clinging to his wet coat, sobbing, holding him fast, and begging him not + to leave her, to take her away, that she would work, that she would not be + a burden to him—only take her with him and try to forgive her, for + he was real and honest and the only friend she had. + </p> + <p> + And Captain Elisha, soothing her, stroking her hair, and murmuring words + of love and tenderness, realized that his labor and sacrifice had not been + in vain, that here was his recompense; she would never misunderstand him + again; she was his at last. + </p> + <p> + And yet, in the midst of his joy, his conscience troubled him more than + ever. + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XX + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">I</span>t + was April; and May was close at hand. The weather was all that late April + weather should be, and so often is not. Trees, bushes, and vines were in + bud; the green of the new grass was showing everywhere above the dead + brown of the old; a pair of bluebirds were inspecting the hollow of the + old apple tree, with an eye toward spring housekeeping; the sun was warm + and bright, and the water of the Sound sparkled in the distance. Caroline, + sitting by the living-room window, was waiting for her uncle to return + from the city. + </p> + <p> + In the kitchen Annie Moriarty was preparing dinner. Annie was now cook as + well as chamber-maid, for, of all the Warren servants, she was the only + one remaining. Edwards, the “Commodore,” had been dismissed, + had departed, not without reluctance but philosophically, to seek other + employment. “Yes, miss,” observed Edwards, when notified that + his services were no longer required; “I understand. I’ve been + expecting it. I was in a family before that met with financial + difficulties, and I know the signs. All I can say is that I hope you and + Mr. Stephen will get on all right, miss. If there’s anything I can + do to help you, by way of friendship, please let me know. I’d be + glad, for old times’ sake. And the cook wanted me to tell you that, + being as she’s got another job in sight and was paid up to date, she + wouldn’t wait for notice, but was leaving immediate. She’s + gone already, miss.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>The + second maid went also. But Annie, Irish and grateful, refused to go. Her + mother came to back her in the refusal. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed she’ll not leave you, Miss Caroline—you nor + Captain Warren neither. Lord love him! Sure, d’ye think we’ll + ever forget what you and him done for me and my Pat and the childer? You’ve + got to have somebody, ain’t you? And Annie’s cookin’ ain’t + so bad that it’ll kill yez; and I’ll learn her more. Never + mind what the wages is, they’re big enough. She’ll stay! If + she didn’t, I’d break her back.” + </p> + <p> + So, when the apartment was given up, and Captain Elisha and his wards + moved to the little house in Westchester County, Annie came with them. And + her cooking, though not by any means equal to that at Delmonico’s, + had not killed them yet. Mrs. Moriarty came once a week to do the laundry + work. Caroline acted as a sort of inexperienced but willing supervising + housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + The house itself had been procured through the kind interest of Sylvester. + Keeping the apartment was, under the circumstances, out of the question, + and Caroline hated it and was only too anxious to give it up. She had no + suggestions to make. She would go anywhere, anywhere that her guardian + deemed best; but might they not please go at once? She expected that he + would suggest South Denboro, and she would have gone there without a + complaint. To get away from the place where she had been so miserable was + her sole wish. And trusting and believing in her uncle as she now did, + realizing that he had been right always and had worked for her interest + throughout, and having been shown the falseness and insincerity of the + others whom she had once trusted implicitly, she clung to him with an + appeal almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg + 317]</a></span> piteous. Her pride was, for the time, broken. She was + humble and grateful. She surrendered to him unconditionally, and hoped + only for his forgiveness and love. + </p> + <p> + The captain did not suggest South Denboro. He did, however, tell Sylvester + that he believed a little place out of the city would be the better refuge + for the present. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Caroline’s switched clear around,” he said to the + lawyer, “and you can’t blame her much. She cal’lates New + York’s nothin’ but a sham from stern to stern, manned by liars + and swindlers and hypocrites and officered by thieves. ’Tain’t + no use to tell her ’tain’t, though she might pretend to + believe it, if <i>I</i> told her, for just now the poor girl thinks I’m + Solomon and Saint Peter rolled into one. The way she agrees to whatever I + say and the way she looks at me and sort of holds on to me, as if I was + her only anchor in a gale, I declare it makes me feel meaner than + poorhouse tea—and that’s made of blackberry leaves steeped in + memories of better things, so I’ve heard say. <i>Am</i> I a low down + scamp, playin’ a dirty mean trick on a couple of orphans? What do + you think, Sylvester?” + </p> + <p> + “You know what I think, Captain Warren,” replied the lawyer. + “You’re handling the whole matter better than any other man + could handle it. No one else would have thought of it, to begin with; and + the results so far prove that you’re right.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. Maybe. I wish you was around to say that to me when I wake up + nights and get to thinkin’. However, as I said, Caroline believes + New York is like a sailors’ dance hall, a place for decent folks to + steer clear of. And when the feller you’ve been engaged to is shown + up as a sneak and your own dad as a crook—well, you can’t + blame a green hand for holdin’ prejudice<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> against the town that + raised ’em. She’ll get over it; but just now I cal’late + some little flat, or, better still, a little home out where the back yards + ain’t made of concrete, would be a first-class port for us to make + for. Don’t know of such a place at a reasonable rent, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I might find one. And you may be right; your niece might like it + better, though it will be somewhat of a change. But how about your nephew? + He has no objection to the metropolis, I should judge. What will he say?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin’, I guess—unless he says it to himself. Steve’s + goin’ back to New Haven with things on his mind. He and I had a + mornin’ service, and I was the parson. He listened, because when you + ain’t got a cent except what the society allows you, it ain’t + good orthodoxy to dodge the charity sermon. Steve’ll behave, and + what he don’t like he’ll lump. If he starts to open his mouth + his ear’ll ache, I cal’late. I talked turkey to that young + man. Ye-es,” with a slight smile, “I’m sort of afraid I + lost patience with Stevie.” + </p> + <p> + When Caroline first saw the little house, with its shingled sides, the + dead vines over the porch, and the dry stalks of last year’s flowers + in the yard, her heart sank. With the wind blowing and the bare branches + of the old apple tree scraping the roof and whining dolefully, it looked + bleak and forsaken. It was so different, so unhomelike, and so, to her + eyes, small and poverty-stricken. She made believe that she liked it, + exclaimed over the view—which, on the particular day, was desolate + enough—and declared the Dutch front door was “old-fashioned + and dear.” But Captain Elisha, watching her closely, knew that she + was only waiting to be alone to give way to wretchedness and tears. He + understood, had expected that she would feel thus, but he<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> was + disappointed, nevertheless. However, after the front door was passed and + they were inside the house, Caroline looked about her in delighted + amazement. The living room was small, but bright and warm and cheery. On + its walls, hiding the rather vivid paper, were hung some of the best of + Rodgers Warren’s pictures—the Corot, the codfisher, and + others. The furniture and rugs were those which had been in the library of + the apartment, those she had been familiar with all her life. The books, + many of them, were there, also. And the dining room, except for size, + looked like home. So did the bedrooms; and, in the kitchen, Annie grinned + a welcome. + </p> + <p> + “But how could you?” asked Caroline. “How could you keep + all these things, Uncle Elisha? I thought, of course, they must all be + sold. I cried when they took them away that day when we were leaving to go + to the hotel. I was sure I should never see them again. And here they all + are! How could you do it?” + </p> + <p> + The captain’s grin was as wide as Annie’s. “Oh,” + he explained, “I couldn’t let ’em all go. Never intended + to. That five thousand dollar codder up there seemed like own folks, + pretty nigh. I’d have kept <i>him</i>, if we had to live in one room + and a trunk. And we ain’t got to that—yet. I tell you, dearie, + I thought they’d make you feel more to home. And they do, don’t + they?” + </p> + <p> + The look she gave him was answer sufficient. + </p> + <p> + “But the creditors?” she asked. “That man who—they + belong to him, don’t they? I supposed of course they must go with + the rest.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha winked. “There’s times,” he answered, + “when I believe in cheatin’ my creditors. This is one of + ’em. Never you mind that feller you mentioned. He’s got + enough, confound him! He didn’t<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> have the face to ask for + any more. Sylvester looked out for that. Five hundred thousand, droppin’ + in, as you might say, unexpected, ought to soften anybody’s heart; + and I judge even that feller’s got some bowels of mercy.” + </p> + <p> + He changed the subject hastily, but Caroline asked no more questions. She + never alluded to the lost estate, never expressed any regrets, nor asked + to know who it was that had seized her all. The captain had expected her + to ask, had been ready with the same answer he had given Stephen, but when + he hinted she herself had forbade his continuing. “Don’t tell + me about it,” she begged. “I don’t want to know any + more. Father did wrong, but—but I know he did not mean to. He was a + good, kind father to me, and I loved him. This man whose money he took had + a right to it, and now it is his. He doesn’t wish us to know who he + is, so Steve says, and I’m glad. I don’t want to know, because + if I did I might hate him. And,” with a shudder, “I am trying + so hard not to hate anybody.” + </p> + <p> + Her make-believe liking for the little home became more and more real as + spring drew near. She began to take an interest in it, in the flower + garden, in the beds beside the porch, where the peonies and daffodils were + beginning to show green heads above the loam, and in the household + affairs. And she had plans of her own, not connected with these. She + broached them to her uncle, and they surprised and delighted him, although + he would not give his consent to them entirely. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t think,” she said, “that, because I + have been willing to live on your money since mine went, that I mean to + continue doing it. I don’t. I’ve been thinking a great deal, + and I realize that I must earn my own way just as soon as I can. I’m + not fitted for anything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" + id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> now; but I can be and I shall. I’ve + thought perhaps I might learn stenography or—or something like that. + Girls do.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her serious face and choked back his laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” he admitted, “they do, that’s a fact. + About four hundred thousand of ’em do, and four hundred thousand + more try to and then try to make business men think that they have. I + heard Sylvester sputterin’ about a couple in his office t’other + day; said they was no good and not worth the seven dollars a week he paid + ’em.” + </p> + <p> + “Seven dollars a <i>week</i>!” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Course some make three times that and more; but they’re + the experienced ones, the good ones. And there’s heaps that don’t. + What makes you so sot on earnin’ a livin’, Caroline? Ain’t + you satisfied with the kind I’m tryin’ to give you?” + </p> + <p> + She regarded him reproachfully. “Please don’t say that,” + she protested. “You always treat your kindness as a joke, but to me + it—it—” + </p> + <p> + “There! there!” quickly. “Don’t let’s talk + foolish. I see what you mean, dearie. It ain’t the livin’ but + because I’m givin’ it to you that troubles you. I know. Well, + <i>I</i> ain’t complainin’ but I understand your feelin’s + and respect ’em. However, I shouldn’t study type-writin’, + if I was you. There’s too much competition in it to be comfortable, + as the fat man said about runnin’ races. I’ve got a + suggestion, if you want to listen to it.” + </p> + <p> + “I do, indeed. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, just this. I’ve been about everythin’ aboard ship, + but I’ve never been a steward. Now I’ll say this much for + Annie, she tried hard. She tumbled into general housekeepin’ the way + Asa Foster said he fell into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" + id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> the cucumber frame—with a jolt and + a jingle; and she’s doin’ her best accordin’ to her + lights. But sometimes her lights need ile or trimmin’ or somethin’. + I’ve had the feelin’ that we need a good housekeeper here. If + Annie’s intelligence was as broad and liberal as her shoes, we + wouldn’t; as ’tis, we do. I’ll hire you, Caroline, for + that job, if you say so.” + </p> + <p> + “I? Uncle Elisha, you’re joking!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I ain’t. Course I realize you ain’t had much + experience in runnin’ a house, and I hope you understand I don’t + want to hire you as a cook. But I’ve had a scheme in the back of my + head for a fortni’t or more. Somethin’ Sylvester said about a + young lady cousin of his made me think of it. Seems over here at the + female college—you know where I mean—they’re teachin’ + a new course that they’ve christened Domestic Science. Nigh’s + I can find out it is about what our great gran’marms larned at home; + that, with up-to-date trimmin’s. All about runnin’ a house, it + is; how to superintend servants, and what kind of things to have to eat, + and how they ought to be cooked, and takin’ care of children—Humph! + we don’t need that, do we?—and, well, everything that a home + woman, rich or poor, ought to know. At least, she ought to ’cordin’ + to my old-fashioned notions. Sylvester’s cousin goes there, and + likes it; and I judge she ain’t figgerin’ to be anybody’s + hired help, either. My idea was about this: If you’d like to take + this course, Caroline, you could do it afternoons. Mornin’s and the + days you had off, you could apply your science here at home, on Annie. + Truly it would save me hirin’ somebody else, and—well, maybe + you’d enjoy it, you can’t tell.” + </p> + <p> + His niece seemed interested. + </p> + <p> + “I know of the Domestic Science course,” she said.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> + “Several of my friends—my former friends, were studying it. + But I’m afraid, Uncle, that I don’t see where earning my + living has any part in it. It seems to me that it means your spending more + money for me, paying my tuition.” + </p> + <p> + “No more’n I’d spend for a competent housekeeper. + Honest, Caroline, I’d like to do it. You think it over a spell.” + </p> + <p> + She did, visiting the University and making inquiries. What she was told + there decided her. She took up the course and enjoyed it. It occupied her + mind and prevented her brooding over the past. She might have made many + friends among the other students, but she was careful to treat them only + as acquaintances. Her recent experience with “friends” was too + fresh in her mind. She studied hard and applied her knowledge at home. She + and Annie made some odd and funny mistakes at first, but they were not + made twice, and Captain Elisha noticed a great improvement in the + housekeeping. Also, Caroline’s spirits improved, though more slowly. + </p> + <p> + Most evenings they spent together in the living room. She read aloud to + her uncle, who smoked his cigar and listened, commenting on the doings of + the story folk with characteristic originality and aptitude. Each night, + after the reading was over, he wrote his customary note to Abbie Baker at + South Denboro. He made one flying trip to that village: “Just to + prove to ’em that I’m still alive,” as he explained it. + “Some of those folks down there at the postoffice must have pretty + nigh forgot to gossip about me by this time. They’ve had me eloped + and married and a millionaire and a pauper long ago, I don’t doubt. + And now they’ve probably forgot me altogether. I’ll just run + down and stir ’em up. Good subjects<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> for yarns are scurce at + that postoffice, and they ought to be thankful.” + </p> + <p> + On his return he told his niece that he found everything much as usual. + “Thoph Kenney’s raised a beard ’cause shavin’s so + expensive; and the Come-Outer minister called the place the other + denominations are bound for ‘Hades,’ and his congregation are + thinkin’ of firin’ him for turnin’ Free-Thinker. That’s + about all the sensations,” he said. “I couldn’t get + around town much on account of Abbie. She kept me in bed most of the time, + while she sewed on buttons and mended. Said she never saw a body’s + clothes in such a state in <i>her</i> life.” + </p> + <p> + A few of the neighbors called occasionally. And there were other callers. + Captain Elisha’s unexpected departure from Mrs. Hepton’s + boarding house had caused a sensation and much regret to that select + establishment. The landlady, aided and abetted by Mrs. Van Winkle Ruggles, + would have given a farewell tea in his honor, but he declined. “Don’t + you do it,” he said. “I like my tea pretty strong, and + farewells are watery sort of things, the best of ’em. And this ain’t + a real farewell, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Say <i>au revoir</i>, but not good-by,’” sang + Miss Sherborne sentimentally. + </p> + <p> + “That’s it. Everybody knows what good-by means. We’ll + say the other thing—as well as we can—and change it to ‘Hello’ + the very first time any of you come out to see us.” + </p> + <p> + They were curious to know his reason for leaving. He explained that his + niece was sort of lonesome and needed country air; he was going to live + with her, for the present. Consequently Mrs. Ruggles, on the trail of + aristocracy, was the first to call. Hers was a stately and ceremonious + visit. They were glad when it was over. Lawton, the bookseller and his + wife, came and were persuaded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" + id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> to remain and dine. Caroline liked them + at sight. The most impressive call, however, was that of Mr. and Mrs. + “C.” Dickens. The great man made it a point to dress in the + style of bygone years, and his conversation was a treat. His literary + labors were fatiguing and confining, he admitted, and the “little + breath of rural ozone” which this trip to Westchester County gave + him, was like a tonic—yes, as one might say, a tonic prescribed and + administered by Dame Nature herself. + </p> + <p> + “I formerly resided in the country,” he told Caroline. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” put in his wife, “we used to live at Bayonne, New + Jersey. We had such a pretty house there, that is, half a house; you see + it was a double one, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Maria,” her husband waved his hand, “why trouble our + friends with unnecessary details.” + </p> + <p> + “But it <i>was</i> a pretty house, ‘C.,’ dear,” + with a pathetic little sigh. “I’ve missed it a great deal + since, Miss Warren. ‘C.’ had a joke about it—he’s + such a joker! He used to call it ‘Gad’s Hill, Junior.’” + </p> + <p> + “Named after some of David B.’s folks?” asked Captain + Elisha innocently. The answer, delivered by Mr. Dickens, was condescending + and explanatory. + </p> + <p> + Caroline laughed, actually laughed aloud, when the visit was over. Her + uncle was immensely pleased. + </p> + <p> + “Hooray!” he cried. “I’ll invite ’em up to + stay a week. That’s the fust time I’ve heard you laugh for I + don’t know when.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed again. “I can’t help it,” she said; “they + are so funny.” + </p> + <p> + The captain chuckled. “Yes,” he said, “and they don’t + know it. I cal’late a person’s skull has got room for just + about so much in it and no more. Cornelius Charles’s head is so + jammed with self-satisfaction that his sense of humor was crowded out of + door long ago.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span>One + boarder at Mrs. Hepton’s did not call, nor did Captain Elisha allude + to him. Caroline noticed the latter fact and understood the reason. Also, + when the captain went to the city, as he frequently did, and remained + longer than usual, she noticed that his explanations of the way in which + he spent his time were sometimes vague and hurried. She understood and was + troubled. Yet she thought a great deal on the subject before she mentioned + it. + </p> + <p> + On the April afternoon when Caroline sat at the window of the living room + awaiting her uncle’s return she was thinking of that subject. But, + at last, her mind was made up. It was a hard thing to do; it was + humiliating, in a way; it might—though she sincerely hoped not—be + misconstrued as to motive; but it was right. Captain Elisha had been so + unselfish, so glad to give up every personal inclination in order to + please her, that she would no longer permit her pride to stand in the way + of his gratification, even in little things. At least, she would speak to + him on the matter. + </p> + <p> + He came on a later than his usual train, and at dinner, when she asked + where he had been, replied, “Oh, to see Sylvester, and—er—around.” + She asked him no more, but, when they were together in the living room, + she moved her chair over beside his and said without looking at him: + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Elisha, I know where you’ve been this afternoon. You’ve + been to see Mr. Pearson.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” He started, leaned back and regarded her with + astonishment and some alarm. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve been to see Mr. Pearson,” she repeated, “haven’t + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes, Caroline, I have—to tell you the truth. I + don’t see how you knew, but,” nervously, “I<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> hope + you don’t feel bad ’cause I did. I go to see him pretty often. + You see, I think a good deal of him—a whole lot of him. <i>I</i> + think he’s a fine young feller. Course I know you don’t, and + so I never mention him to you. But I do hope you ain’t goin’ + to ask me not to see him.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I would have no + right to ask that, even if I wished to. And I do not wish it. Uncle + Elisha, if you were alone here, he would come to see you; I know he would. + Invite him to come, please.” + </p> + <p> + His astonishment was greater than ever. + </p> + <p> + “Invite him to come <i>here</i>?” he asked. “To see you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” hastily; “to see you. This is your home. I have no + right to keep your friends from visiting it. I know you would sacrifice + everything for me, even them; but I will not be so selfish as to allow it. + Ask him here, please. I really want you to.” + </p> + <p> + He pulled his beard. “Caroline,” he answered slowly, “I’m + much obliged to you. I understand why you’re doin’ this, and I + thank you. But it ain’t likely that I’ll say yes, is it? And + do you suppose Jim would come if I did ask him? He knows you believe he’s + a—well, all that’s bad. You told him so, and you sent him + away. I will give in that I’d like to have him here. He’s one + of the few men friends I’ve made since I landed in New York. But, + under the circumstances—you feelin’ as you do—I couldn’t + ask him, and he wouldn’t come if I did.” + </p> + <p> + She remained silent for a time. Then she said: “Uncle, I want you to + tell me the truth about Mr. Pearson and father—just why they + quarreled and the real truth of the whole affair. Don’t spare my + feelings; tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg + 328]</a></span> me what you believe is the true story. I know you think + Mr. Pearson was right, for you said so.” + </p> + <p> + The captain was much troubled. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don’t know’s I’d better, dearie,” + he answered. “I think I do know the truth, but you might think I was + hard on ’Bije—on your father. I ain’t. And I sympathize + with the way he felt, too. But Jim did right, as I see it. He acted just + as I’d want a son of mine to do. And.... Well, I cal’late we’d + better not rake up old times, had we?” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to tell me. Please do.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know’s I’d better. You have been told the + story different, and—” + </p> + <p> + “I know I have. That is the reason why I ask you to tell it. Oh,” + with a flash of scorn, “I was told many stories, and I want to + forget them. And,” sadly, “I can bear whatever you may tell + me, even about father. Since I learned that he was a—a—” + </p> + <p> + “S-sh, Caroline; don’t!” + </p> + <p> + “After that, I can bear anything, I think. This cannot be worse.” + </p> + <p> + “Worse! No, not! This ain’t very bad. I will tell you, dearie. + This is just what happened.” + </p> + <p> + He told her the exact truth concerning the Trolley Combine, his brother’s + part in it, and Pearson’s. She listened without comment. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” she said when he had finished. “I think I see. + Mr. Pearson felt that, as a newspaper man, an honest one, he must go on. + He knew that the thing was wrong and that innocent people might lose money + in it. It was his duty to expose it, and he did it, even though it meant + the loss of influence and of father’s friendship. I see.” + </p> + <p> + “That was about it, Caroline. I think the hardest<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> part + for him was when ’Bije called him ungrateful. ’Bije had been + mighty kind to him, that’s a fact.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Father was kind; I know that better than anyone else. But Mr. + Pearson was right. Yes, he was right, and brave.” + </p> + <p> + “So I size it up. And I do sympathize with your father, too. This wa’n’t + such an awful lot worse than a good many stock deals. And poor ’Bije + was perfectly desp’rate, I guess. If it had gone through he’d + have been able to square accounts with the Rubber Company; and just think + what that would have meant to him. Poor feller! poor feller!” He + sighed. She reached for his hand and stroked it gently with her own. + </p> + <p> + After another interval she said: “How I insulted and wronged him! + How he must despise me!” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Jim? No, no! he don’t do any such thing. He knows you + didn’t understand, and who was responsible. Jim’s got sense, + lots of it.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is my misunderstanding and my insulting treatment of him + which have kept you two apart—here, at any rate.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t let that worry you, Caroline. I see him every once in a + while, up to the city.” + </p> + <p> + “It does worry me; and it will, until it is made right. And,” + in a lower tone, but with decision, “it shall be.” + </p> + <p> + She rose and, bending over, kissed him on the forehead. “Good night, + Uncle,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha was disappointed. “What!” he exclaimed. “Goin’ + aloft so soon? We ain’t had our readin’ yet. Pretty early to + turn in, seems to me. Stay a little longer, do.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to-night, dear. I’m going to my room. Please excuse me + this time.” She turned to go and then, turning back again, asked a + final question. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span>“You’re + sure,” she said, hesitatingly; “you’re quite sure he + will not come here—to you—if you tell him I understand, and—and + you ask him?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Caroline, I don’t know. You see, I was responsible for + his comin’ before. He had some scruples against it then, but I + talked him down. He’s sort of proud, Jim is, and he might—might + not want to—to—” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Good night, Uncle.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning, after breakfast, she came to him again. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Elisha,” she said, “I have written him.” + </p> + <p> + “What? You’ve written? Written who?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pearson. I wrote him, telling him I had learned the true story + of his disagreement with father and that he was right and I was wrong. I + apologized for my behavior toward him. Now, I think, perhaps, if you ask + him, he will come.” + </p> + <p> + The captain looked at her. He realized the sacrifice of her pride which + writing that letter must have meant, and that she had done it for him. He + was touched and almost sorry she had done it. He took both her hands in + his. + </p> + <p> + “Dearie,” he said, “you shouldn’t have done that. + I didn’t expect you to. I know you did it just for my sake. I won’t + say I ain’t glad; I am, in one way. But ’twa’n’t + necessary, and ’twas too much, too hard for you altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say that,” she begged. “Too much! I never + can do enough. Compared to what you have done for me it—it.... Oh, + please let me do what little I can. But, Uncle Elisha, promise me one + thing; promise that you will not ask me to meet him, if he should come. + That I couldn’t do, even for you.” + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XXI + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">P</span>romises + of that kind are easier to make than to keep. The captain promised + promptly enough, but the Fates were against him. He made it his business + to go to town the very next day and called upon his friend. He found the + young man in a curiously excited and optimistic frame of mind, radically + different from that of the past few months. The manuscript of the novel + was before him on the desk, also plenty of blank paper. His fountain-pen + was in his hand, although apparently, he had written nothing that morning. + But he was going to—oh, yes, he was going to! He was feeling just in + the mood. He had read his manuscript, and it was not so bad; by George, + some of the stuff was pretty good! And the end was not so far off. Five or + six chapters more and the thing would be finished. He would have to secure + a publisher, of course, but two had already expressed an interest; and so + on. + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha drew his own conclusions. He judged that his niece’s + letter had reached its destination. He did not mention it, however, nor + did Pearson. But when the captain hinted at the latter’s running out + to the house to see him some time or other, the invitation was accepted. + </p> + <p> + “That’s fine, Jim,” declared the visitor. “Come + any time. I want you to see what a nice little place I’ve got out + there. Don’t stand on ceremony, come—er—next week, say.” + Then, mindful of his promise, he added, “You and I’ll have it + all to ourselves. I’ve been cal’latin’<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> to + hire a sail-boat for the summer; got my eye on a capable little sloop + belongin’ to a feller on the Sound shore. If all goes well I’ll + close the deal in a few days. I’ll meet you at the depot and we’ll + have a sail and get dinner at a hotel or somewheres, and then we’ll + come up to the house and take a whack at Cap’n Jim’s doin’s + in the new chapters. Just you and I together in the settin’ room; + hey?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson did not seem so enthusiastic over this programme, although he + admitted that it sounded tip-top. + </p> + <p> + “How is Miss Warren?” he asked, mentioning the name with a + nonchalance remarkable, considering that he had not done so before for + weeks. “She is well, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she’s fust-rate, thank you. Very well, everything + considered. She keeps to herself a good deal. Don’t care to meet + many folks, and you can’t hardly blame her.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson admitted that, and the remainder of the call was largely a + monologue by Captain Elisha. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Jim,” said the latter, when he rose to go, + “you come up Monday or Tuesday of next week. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I—I think so.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t think, do it. Let me know what train you’re comin’ + on, and I’ll meet you at the depot.” + </p> + <p> + This last remark was what upset calculations. Pearson came on Monday, + having written the day before. He did not mail the note himself, but + trusted it to Mrs. Hepton, who was going out to attend evening service. + She forgot it until the next day. So it happened that when he alighted + from the train at the suburban station the captain was not there to meet + him. He waited a while, and then, inquiring the way of the station agent,<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> + walked up to the house by himself. As he turned in at the front walk, + Caroline came out of the door. They met, face to face. + </p> + <p> + It was a most embarrassing situation, particularly for Caroline; yet, with + feminine resourcefulness, she dissembled her embarrassment to some extent + and acknowledged his stammered, “Good afternoon, Miss Warren,” + with a cool, almost cold, “How do you do, Mr. Pearson?” which + chilled his pleasure at seeing her and made him wish devoutly that he had + not been such a fool as to come. However, there he was, and he hastily + explained his presence by telling her of the captain’s invitation + for that day, how he had expected to meet him at the station, and, not + meeting him, had walked up to the house. + </p> + <p> + “Is he in?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + No, Captain Elisha was not in. He had gone to see the sail-boat man. Not + hearing from his friend, he concluded the latter would not come until the + next day. + </p> + <p> + “He will be so sorry,” said Caroline. + </p> + <p> + Pearson was rather thankful than otherwise. The captain’s absence + afforded him an opportunity to escape from a place where he was plainly + unwelcome. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind,” he said. “It is not important. I can + run out another day. Just tell him I called, Miss Warren, please; that I + wrote yesterday, but my letter must have gone astray. Good afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + He was turning to go, but she stopped him. She had fully made up her mind + that, when he came, she would not meet him—remembering how she had + treated him on the evening of her birthday, she would be ashamed to look + him in the face. Besides, she could not meet him after writing that + letter; it would be too brazen; he would think—all sorts of things. + When he visited her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg + 334]</a></span> uncle she would remain in her room, or go to the city or + somewhere. + </p> + <p> + But now she had met him. And he had come in response to her uncle’s + invitation, given because she herself had pleaded that it should be. To + let him go away would be rude and ridiculous; and how could she explain to + the captain? + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t go, Mr. Pearson,” she said. “You must + come in and wait; Captain Warren will be back soon, I’m sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you; but I think I won’t wait. I can come another time.” + </p> + <p> + “But you must wait. I insist. Uncle Elisha will be dreadfully + disappointed if you don’t. There isn’t a train for an hour, + and he will return before that, I am sure. Please come in.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson was reluctant, but he could think of no reasonable excuse. So he + entered the house, removed his overcoat and hat, and seated himself in the + living room to await the captain’s return. Caroline excused herself, + saying that she had an errand at the shop in the village. She made that + errand as long as she could, but when she returned he was still there, and + Captain Elisha had not appeared. + </p> + <p> + The conversation was forced, for a time. Each felt the embarrassment, and + Pearson was still resentful of the manner in which she had greeted him on + his arrival. But, as he looked at her, the resentment vanished, and the + other feeling, that which he had determined to forget, returned. Captain + Elisha had told him how brave she had been through it all, and, + contrasting the little house with the former home, remembering the loss of + friends and fortune, to say nothing of the unmasking of those whom she + believed were her nearest and dearest, he<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> wondered and admired + more than ever. He understood how very hard it must have been for her to + write that letter to him, a letter in which she justified his course at + the cost of her own father’s honor. He longed to tell her that he + understood and appreciated. + </p> + <p> + At last he could not resist the temptation. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Warren,” he said, “please excuse my speaking of + this, but I must; I must thank you for writing me as you did. It was not + necessary, it was too much to expect, too hard a thing for you to do. It + makes me feel guilty. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Please don’t!” she interrupted. “Don’t + speak in that way. It was right. It was what I should have done long ago.” + </p> + <p> + “But it was not necessary; I understood. I knew you had heard + another version of the story and that you felt I had been ungrateful and + mean, to say the least, in my conduct toward your father. I knew that; I + have never blamed you. And you writing as you did—” + </p> + <p> + “I did it for my uncle’s sake,” she broke in, quickly. + “You are his closest friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but I appreciate it, nevertheless. I—I wish you would + consider me your friend as well as his. I do, sincerely.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. I need friends, I know. I have few now, which is not + strange,” rather bitterly. + </p> + <p> + He protested earnestly. “I did not mean it in that way,” he + said. “It is an honor and a great privilege to be one of your + friends. I had that honor and privilege once. May I have it again?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Pearson.... Now tell me about your novel. I remember + it all so well. And I am very much interested. You must have it nearly + completed. Tell me about it, please.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>They + were deep in the discussion of the novel when Captain Elisha walked into + the living room. He was surprised, stating his feelings at their mildest, + to find them together, but he did not express his astonishment. Instead, + he hailed Pearson delightedly, demanded to know if they had dared tackle + Cap’n Jim without the “head doctor’s” being on the + scene; and insisted upon the author’s admitting him to the “clinic” + forthwith. Pearson did not take the next train, nor the next. Instead, he + stayed for dinner and well into the evening, and when he did go it was + after a prompt acceptance of the captain’s invitation to “come + again in a mighty little while.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline, when she and her uncle were alone after their visitor’s + departure, made no protest against the invitation having been given. She + did not speak of Pearson at all. Captain Elisha also talked of other + things, principally about the sail-boat, the summer lease of which he had + arranged that afternoon. He declared the sloop to be an “able craft + of her tonnage” and that they would have some good times aboard her + or he missed his guess. In his own room, when ready for bed, he favored + his reflection in the glass with a broad smile and a satisfied wink, from + which proceeding it may be surmised that the day had not been a bad one, + according to his estimate. + </p> + <p> + Pearson came again a week later, and thereafter frequently. The sessions + with Cap’n Jim and his associates were once more regular happenings + to be looked forward to and enjoyed by the three. As the weather grew + warmer, the sloop—Captain Elisha had the name she formerly bore + painted out and Caroline substituted—proved to be as great a source + of pleasure as her new skipper had prophesied. He and his niece—and + occasionally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> + Pearson—sailed and picnicked on the Sound, and Caroline’s + pallor disappeared under the influence of breeze and sunshine. Her health + improved, and her spirits, also. She seemed, at times, almost happy, and + her uncle seldom saw her, as after the removal to the suburb he so + frequently used, with tears in her eyes and the sadness of bitter memories + in her expression and manner. Her work at the University grew steadily + more difficult, but she enjoyed it thoroughly and declared that she would + not give it up for worlds. + </p> + <p> + In June two very important events took place. The novel was finished, and + Stephen, his Sophomore year at an end, came home from college. He had been + invited by some classmates to spend a part of his vacation with them on + the Maine coast, and his guardian had consented to his doing so; but the + boy himself had something else to propose. On an evening soon after his + return, when, his sister having retired, he was alone with the captain, he + broached the idea. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he said, “I’ve been thinking a good deal + while I’ve been away this last time.” + </p> + <p> + “Glad to hear it, I’m sure,” replied his uncle, dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I’ve been thinking—about a good many things. I’m + flat broke; down and out, so far as money is concerned. That’s so, + isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha looked at him keenly for an instant. Then: + </p> + <p> + “It appears that way, I’m afraid,” he answered. “What + made you ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. I wasn’t asking, really; I was just stating the + case. Now, the way I look at it, this college course of mine isn’t + worth while. You’re putting up for it, and I ought to be much + obliged; I am, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re welcome, Stevie.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span>“I + know; but what’s the use of it? I’ve got to go to work when it’s + over. And the kind of work I want to do doesn’t need university + training. I’m just wasting time; that’s what I’m doing.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I ain’t so sure about that. But what sort of work do + you want to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to be down on the Street, as the governor was. If this + Rubber Company business hadn’t knocked us out, I intended, as soon + as I was of age, to take that seat of his and start in for myself. Well, + that chance has gone, but I mean to get in some way, though I have to + start at the foot of the ladder. Now why can’t I leave college and + start now? It will be two years gained, won’t it?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha seemed pleased, but he shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know you’d like it?” he asked. “You’ve + never tried.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I never have; but I’ll like it all right. I know I shall. + It’s what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was old enough to + think of such things. Just let me start in now, right away, and I’ll + show you. I’ll make good; you see if I don’t.” + </p> + <p> + He was very earnest. The captain deliberated before answering. + </p> + <p> + “Stevie,” he said, doubtfully, “I rather like to hear + you talk that way; I own up it pleases me. But, as to your givin’ up + college—that’s different. Let me think it over for a day or + two; that is, if you can put off the Maine trip so long as that.” + </p> + <p> + “Hang the Maine trip! You let me get into business, the business I + want to get into, and I won’t ask for a vacation; you can bet on + that!” + </p> + <p> + “All right then. I’ll think, and do some questionin’ + around, and report soon’s I’ve decided what’s best.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span>He + laid the stump of his cigar in the ash receiver and rose from his chair. + But his nephew had not finished. + </p> + <p> + “There was something else I intended to say,” he announced, + but with less eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “That so? What?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, just this.” He fidgeted with his watch chain, + colored and was evidently uneasy. “I guess—” he + hesitated—“I guess that I haven’t treated you as I + ought.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to know! You guess that, hey? Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know why. I’ve been thinking since I went back to New + Haven. I’ve had a chance to think. Some of the fellows in the set I + used to be thick with up there have learned that I’m broke, and they—they + aren’t as friendly as they were. Not all of them, of course, but + some. And I wouldn’t chase after them; not much! If they wanted to + drop me they could. You bet I didn’t try to hang on! I was pretty + sore for a while and kept to myself and—well, I did a lot of + thinking. I guess Caro is right; you’ve been mighty decent to her + and me.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, but Captain Elisha made no comment. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you have,” continued Stephen, soberly. “When + you first came, you know, Caroline and I couldn’t understand. We + thought you were butting in and weren’t our sort, and—and—” + </p> + <p> + “And a hayseed nuisance generally; I know. Heave ahead, son; you + interest me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we didn’t like it. And Mal Dunn and his mother were + always sympathizing and insinuating, and we believed they were our best + friends, and all that. So we didn’t try to understand you or—or + even make it livable for you. Then, after the news came that the<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> money + had gone, I acted like a kid, I guess. That business of making Mal stick + to the engagement was pretty silly. I was nearly desperate, you see, and—and—you + knew it was silly. You never took any stock in it, did you?” + </p> + <p> + The captain smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Not a heap,” he admitted. + </p> + <p> + “No. All you wanted was to show them up. Well, you did it, and I’m + glad you did. But Caro and I have talked it over since I’ve been + home, and we agree that you’ve been a great deal better to us than + we deserve. You didn’t <i>have</i> to take care of us at all, any + more, after the money went. By gad! considering how we treated you, I don’t + see why you did. <i>I</i> wouldn’t. But you did—and you are. + You’ve given us a home, and you’re putting me through college + and—and—” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all right, son. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute. I—I—well, if you let me, I’d like + to thank you and—and ask your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “Granted, my boy. And never mind the thanks, either. Just keep on + thinkin’ and actin’ as you have to-night, and I’ll be + satisfied. I want to see my nephew makin’ a man of himself—a + real man; and, Steve, you talk more like a man to-night than I’ve + ever heard you. Stick to it, and you’ll do yet. As for goin’ + to work, you let me chew on that for a few days.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning he called on Sylvester, who in turn took him to a friend + of his, a broker—employing a good-sized staff of clerks. The three + had a consultation, followed, the day after, by another. That evening the + captain made a definite proposal to Stephen. It was, briefly, that, while + not consenting to the latter’s leaving college, he did consider that + a trial of the work in a broker’s office might be a good thing. + Therefore, if the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg + 341]</a></span> young man wished, he could enter the employ of Sylvester’s + friend and remain during July and August. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll leave about the first of September, Steve,” he + said, “and that’ll give you time for the two weeks vacation + that you ought to have. Then you can go back to Yale and pitch in till the + next summer, when the same job’ll be ready for you. After you’re + through college for good, if what you’ve learned about brokerin’ + ain’t cured you of your likin’ for it—if you still want + to go ahead with it for your life job, then—well, then we’ll + see. What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + Stephen had a good deal to say, principally in the line of objection to + continuing his studies. Finding these objections unavailing, he agreed to + his guardian’s proposition. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said the captain; “then you can go to work + next Monday. But you’ll <i>have</i> to work, and be just the same as + any other beginner, no better and no worse. There’ll be no + favoritism, and, if you’re really wuth your salt, you won’t + want any. Show ’em, and me, that you’re wuth it.” + </p> + <p> + The novel, the wonderful tale which Captain Elisha was certain would make + its author famous, was finished that very day in June when Stephen came + back from New Haven. The question of title remained, and the “clinic,” + now reënforced by Steve—whose dislike for Pearson had + apparently vanished with others of his former likes and dislikes—considered + that at several sessions. At last “The Man at the Wheel” was + selected, as indicating something of the hero’s profession and + implying, perhaps, a hint of his character. Then came the fateful task of + securing a publisher. And the first to whom it was submitted—one of + the two firms which had already expressed a desire to read the manuscript—accepted<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> it, + at what, for a first novel, were very fair terms. During the summer there + was proof to be read and illustrations to be criticized. Captain Elisha + did not wholly approve of the artist’s productions. + </p> + <p> + “Jerushy!” he exclaimed, “look at that mainmast! Look at + the rake of it! More like a yacht than a deep-water bark, she is enough + sight. And the fust mate’s got a uniform cap on, like a purser on a + steamboat. Make that artist feller take that cap off him, Jim. He’s + got to. I wish he could have seen some of my mates. They wa’n’t + Cunarder dudes, but they could make a crew hop ’round like a + sand-flea in a clam bake.” + </p> + <p> + Or, when the picture happened to be a shore view: + </p> + <p> + “What kind of a house is that? Did you ever see a house like that + Down-East? I’ll leave it to anybody if it don’t look like a + sugar man’s plantation I used to know down Mobile way. All that + feller standin’ by the door needs is to have his face blacked; then + he’d start singin’ ‘S’wanee River.’ This ain’t + ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin.’ Bah!” + </p> + <p> + The advance copy, the first one, was ready early in September, and the + author, of course, brought it immediately to his friends. They found the + dedication especially interesting: “To C. W. and E. W., consulting + specialists at the literary clinics, with grateful acknowledgments.” + Probably Captain Elisha was never prouder of anything, even his first + command, than of that dedication. + </p> + <p> + And the story, when at last it appeared for sale, was almost from the + beginning a success. The reviewers praised it, the reading public—that + final court of appeal which makes or unmakes novels—took kindly to + it, and discussed and recommended it; and, most important of all, perhaps, + it sold and continued to sell. There was<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> something in it, its + humanity, its simplicity, its clearly marked characters, which made a hit. + Pearson no longer needed to seek publishers; they sought him. His short + stories were bid for by the magazines, and his prices climbed and climbed. + He found himself suddenly planted in the middle of the highway to + prosperity, with a clear road ahead of him, provided he continued to do + his best. + </p> + <p> + In September Stephen gave up his work at the broker’s office, spent + the weeks with his friends in Maine, and then returned to Yale. He gave up + the position on the Street with reluctance. He was sure he liked it now, + he declared. It was what he was fitted for, and he meant, more than ever, + to take it up permanently as soon as he was free. And his employer told + Captain Elisha that the youngster was bright, clever, and apt. “A + little conceited, needs taking down occasionally, but that is the only + trouble. He has been spoiled, I should imagine,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yup,” replied the captain, with emphasis; “your + imagination’s a good one. It don’t need cultivatin’ any.” + </p> + <p> + The novel being out of the way, and its successor not yet far enough + advanced in plot or general plan for much discussion, the “literary + clinics” were no longer as frequent. But Pearson’s visits to + the Warren house were not discontinued. All summer long he had been coming + out, once, and usually twice, a week. Captain Elisha had told him not to + stand on formality, to come any time, and he did. On most of these + occasions he found the captain at home; but, if only Caroline was there, + he seemed quite contented. She did not remark on the frequency of his + visits. In fact, she mentioned him less and less in conversation with her + uncle. But,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> + as the autumn came and moved towards its prime she seemed, to the captain’s + noticing eye, a trifle more grave, a little more desirous of being by + herself. Sometimes he found her sitting by the open fire—pleasant in + the cool October evenings—and gazing very soberly at the blaze. She + had been in good spirits, more merry and light-hearted than he had ever + seen her, during the latter part of the summer; now her old sadness seemed + to be returning. It would have troubled him, this change in her mood, if + he had not believed he knew the cause. + </p> + <p> + He was planning a glorious Thanksgiving. At least, it would be glorious to + him, for he intended spending the day, and several days, at his own home + in South Denboro. Abbie Baker had made him promise to do it, and he had + agreed. He would not leave Caroline, of course; she was going with him. + Steve would be there, though he would not come until Thanksgiving Day + itself. Sylvester, also, would be of the party; he seemed delighted at the + opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “I’m curious to see the place where they raise fellows like + you,” the lawyer said. “It must be worth looking at.” + </p> + <p> + “Graves don’t think so,” chuckled the captain. “I + invited him, and he said, ‘No, thank you’ so quick that the + words was all telescoped together. And he shivered, too, when he said it; + just as if he felt that sou’west gale whistlin’ between his + bones even now. I told him I’d pretty nigh guarantee that no more + trees would fall on him, but it didn’t have any effect.” + </p> + <p> + Pearson was asked and had accepted. His going was so far a settled thing + that he had commissioned Captain Elisha to purchase a stateroom for him on + the Fall River boat; for of course the captain would not consider their + traveling the entire distance by train. At an interview<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> in + the young man’s room in the boarding house, only three days before + the date set for the start, he had been almost as enthusiastic as the Cape + Codder himself. The pair had planned several side excursions, time and + weather permitting, among them a trip across the Sound to Setuckit Point, + with the possibility of some late sea-fowl shooting and a long tramp to + one of the life-saving stations, where Pearson hoped to pick up material + for his new book. He was all anticipation and enthusiasm when the captain + left him, and said he would run out to the house the following day, to + make final arrangements. + </p> + <p> + That day Sylvester ’phoned, asking Captain Elisha to come to his + office on a matter of business. When, having done so, the captain, + returning, alighted at his home station, he was surprised to see Pearson + standing on the platform. + </p> + <p> + “Why, hello, Jim!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing + here? Just come, have you?” + </p> + <p> + His friend shook his head. “No, Captain Warren,” he said; + “I’m just going.” + </p> + <p> + “Goin’? What for? Been up to the house, of course? Caroline + told you where I’d gone and that I was cal’latin’ to + hurry back, didn’t she?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, course you ain’t goin’! You’re goin’ + to stay to dinner. I’ve got some things to tell you about that + life-savin’ station cruise. I’ve been thinkin’ that I + know the cap’n and most of the crew on the lightship off back of the + Point. How’d you like to go aboard of her? You could get some yarns + from those fellers that might be wuth hearin’.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt I should. But I’m afraid I can’t go. + The fact is, Captain, I’ve decided not to spend Thanksgiving with + you, after all.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span>“Hey?” + Captain Elisha could scarcely believe he had heard correctly. “You + can’t go—to South Denboro?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not, for the land sakes?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ve decided—I’ve decided not to.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Jim! Why, I can’t have it so! I’m dreadful + disappointed. I’ve counted on your goin’. So has Abbie. She’s + read your book, and she says she’s crazy to see the feller that + wrote it. She’s told the minister and a whole lot more, and they’re + all comin’ in to look at you. ’Tain’t often we have a + celebrated character in our town. You’ve <i>got</i> to go.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Captain. I appreciate the invitation and your kindness, + but,” with decision, “I can’t accept.” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you come later? Say Thanksgivin’ mornin’? + Or even the day after?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “But why not? What’s the matter with you all of a sudden? Come + here! let me look at you.” + </p> + <p> + He took the young man by the arm and led him, almost by main strength, + close to the lighted window of the station. It was late, and the afternoon + was gloomy. Here, by the lamplight streaming through the window, he could + see his face more clearly. He looked at it. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted, after a moment’s scrutiny. “You’ve + made up your mind; I can see that. Have you told Caroline? Does she know?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You’ll have to excuse me, Captain Warren; my train is + coming.” + </p> + <p> + “What did she say?” + </p> + <p> + Pearson smiled, but there was little mirth in the smile. “I think + she agrees with me that it is best,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! She does, hey? I want to know! Look here, Jim! have you and + she—” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span>He + got no further, for Pearson broke away, and, with a hurried “Good + night,” strode up the platform to meet the city-bound train. Captain + Elisha watched it go and then walked slowly homeward, his hands in his + pockets, troubled and wondering. + </p> + <p> + He entered the house by the back door, a remnant of South Denboro habit, + and found Annie in the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s Caroline?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “She’s in the living room, sir, I think. Mr. Pearson has been + here and just gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. So I heard. Say, Annie, you needn’t hurry dinner; I + ain’t ready for it yet awhile.” + </p> + <p> + He hung his coat and hat in the back hall and quietly entered the living + room. The lamp was not lighted, and the room was dark, but he saw his + niece, a shadowy figure, seated by the window. He crossed to her side. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Caroline,” he said, cheerfully, “I’m home + again.” + </p> + <p> + She turned. “I see you are,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! your eyes must be better than mine then. I can’t see + anything in here. It’s darker than a nigger’s pocket. Suppose + we turn on the glim.” + </p> + <p> + He struck a match as he said it. By its light he saw her face. The match + burned down to his finger tips and then he extinguished it. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know but the dark is just as good and more + economical,” he observed. “No use of encouragin’ the + graspin’ ile trust unless it’s necessary. Let’s you and + me sit here in the dark and talk. No objection to talkin’ to your + back country relation, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s good. Well, Caroline, I’m goin’ to talk + plain again. You can order me to close my hatch any time<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> you + feel like it; that’s skipper’s privilege, and you’re + boss of this craft, you know. Dearie, I just met Jim Pearson. He tells me + he’s decided not to go on this Cape cruise of ours. He said you + agreed with him ’twas best he shouldn’t go. Do you mind tellin’ + me why?” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer. He waited a minute and then continued. + </p> + <p> + “Course, I know I ain’t got any real right to ask,” he + went on; “but I think more of you and Jim than I do of anybody else, + and so maybe you’ll excuse me. Have you and he had a fallin’ + out?” + </p> + <p> + Still she was silent. He sighed. “Well,” he observed, “I + see you have, and I don’t blame you for not wantin’ to talk + about it. I’m awful sorry. I’d begun to hope that.... However, + we’ll change the subject. Or we won’t talk at all, if you’d + rather not.” + </p> + <p> + Another pause. Then she laid her hand on his. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle,” she said, “you know I always want to talk to + you. And, as for the right to ask, you have the right to ask anything of + me at any time. And I should have told you, of my own accord, by and by. + Mr. Pearson and I have not quarreled; but I think—I think it best + that I should not see him again.” + </p> + <p> + “You do? Not see him—any more—at all? Why, Caroline!” + </p> + <p> + “Not for a long, long time, at least. It would only make it harder—for + him; and it’s of no use.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha sighed again. “I guess I understand, Caroline. I + presume likely I do. He—he asked somethin’ of you—and + you couldn’t say yes to him. That was it, I suppose. Needn’t + tell me unless you really want to, you understand,” he added, + hastily. + </p> + <p> + “But I do. I ought to tell you. I should have told you before, and + perhaps, if I had, he would not have<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> ... Uncle Elisha, Mr. + Pearson asked me to be his wife.” + </p> + <p> + The captain gave no evidence of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he replied, gravely, “I judged that was it. And + you told him you couldn’t, I suppose. Well, dearie, that’s a + question nobody ought to answer but the one. She’s the only one that + knows what that answer should be, and, when other folks interfere and try + to influence, it generally means trouble. I’m kind of disappointed; + I’ll own up to that. I think Jim is a fine, honest, able young man, + and he’d make a good husband, I’m sure. And, so far as his + business, or profession, or whatever you call it, goes, he’s doin’ + pretty well and sartin to do better. Of course, ’twa’n’t + that that kept you from—” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Elisha! Am <i>I</i> so rich that I should—” + </p> + <p> + “There! there, my girl! I know ’twa’n’t that, of + course. I was only thinkin’ out loud, that’s all—tryin’ + to find reasons. You didn’t care for him enough, I suppose. + Caroline, you don’t care for anybody else, do you? You don’t + still care for that other feller, that—” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle!” she sprang up, hurt and indignant. “How can + you?” she cried. “How could you ask that? What must you think + of me?” + </p> + <p> + “Please, Caroline,” he protested; “please don’t. I + beg your pardon. I was a fool! I knew better. Don’t go. Tell me the + real reason. Sit down again and let’s talk this out. Do sit down! + that’s it. Now tell me; was it that you couldn’t care for Jim + enough?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Was it?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “I—I like Mr. Pearson very much. I respect and admire him.” + </p> + <p> + “But you don’t love him. I see. Well,” sadly,<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> + “there’s another one of my dreams gone to smash. However, you + did just right, dearie. Feelin’ that way, you couldn’t marry + him, of course.” + </p> + <p> + He would have risen now, and she detained him. + </p> + <p> + “That was not the reason,” she said, in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” he bent toward her. “What?” he cried. + “That wa’n’t the reason, you say? You do care for him?” + </p> + <p> + She was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Do you?” he repeated, gently. “And yet you sent him + away. Why?” + </p> + <p> + She faltered, tried to speak, and then turned away. He put his arm about + her and stroked her hair. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you cry, dearie,” he begged. “I won’t + bother you any more. You can tell me some other time—if you want to. + Or you needn’t tell me at all. It’s all right; only don’t + cry. ’Cause if you do,” with sudden determination, “I + shall cry, too; and, bein’ as I ain’t used to the exercise, I + may raise such a row that Annie’ll send for the constable. You + wouldn’t want that to happen, I know.” + </p> + <p> + This unexpected announcement had the desired effect; Caroline laughed + hysterically and freed herself from his arm. + </p> + <p> + “I mustn’t be so silly,” she said. “I had made up + my mind to tell you everything, and I shall. My not caring for Mr. Pearson + was not my reason for refusing him. The reasons were two—you and + Steve.” + </p> + <p> + “Me and Steve? What in the world have we got to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything. He would marry me, poor as I am; and perhaps I—perhaps + I should say yes if things were different. Oh, there is no use my + deceiving you, or trying to deceive myself! I know I should say yes, and<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> be + very, very happy. But I can’t! and I won’t! I <i>won’t</i>!” + </p> + <p> + “But why? And where, for mercy’s sake, do Steve and I come in?” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Elisha, I suppose you think I have been perfectly satisfied + to let you take care of me and of my brother, and give us a home and all + that we needed and more. No doubt you thought me selfish enough to be + contented with that and go on as I am—as we are—living on your + bounty. You had reason to think so. But I have not been contented with + that, nor has Steve. He and I have made our plans, and we shall carry them + out. He will leave college in two years and go to work in earnest. Before + that time I shall be ready to teach. I have been studying with just that + idea in view.” + </p> + <p> + “Good land! Why, no, you ain’t! You’ve been studyin’ + to help me and Annie run this house.” + </p> + <p> + “That was only part of it—the smallest part. I haven’t + told you before, Uncle, but one of the Domestic Science teachers at the + University is a girl I used to know slightly. She is going to be married + next year, and, if all goes well, I may be appointed to her position when + she leaves. I have a conditional promise already. If I am, why, then, you + see, I shall really be earning my own living; you will not have to give up + your own home and all your interests there to make me comfortable: you can—” + </p> + <p> + “Here! here!” Captain Elisha put in, desperately; “don’t + talk so ridiculous, Caroline. I ain’t givin’ up anything. I + never was more happy than I’ve been right here with you this summer. + I’m satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but I am not. And neither is Steve. He and I have planned + it all. His salary at first will be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" + id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> small, and so will mine. But together we + can earn enough to live somehow and, later on, when he earns more, perhaps + we may be able to repay a little of all that you have given us. We shall + try. <i>I</i> shall insist upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline Warren, is <i>that</i> the reason you sent Jim away? Did + you tell him that? Did you tell him you wouldn’t marry him on + account of me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, of course I did not,” indignantly. “I told him—I + said I must not think of marriage; it was impossible. And it is! You <i>know</i> + it is, Uncle Elisha!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know any such thing. If you want to make me happy, + Caroline, you couldn’t find a better way than to be Jim Pearson’s + wife. And you would be happy, too; you said so.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not thinking of happiness. It is my duty—to you and + to my own self-respect. And not only that, but to Steve. Someone must + provide a home for him. Neither he nor I will permit you to do it a day + longer than is necessary. I am his sister and I shall not leave him.” + </p> + <p> + “But you won’t have to leave him. Steve’s future’s + all fixed. I’ve provided for Steve.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “What I say.” The captain was very much excited and, for once, + completely off his guard. “I’ve had plans for Steve all along. + He’s doin’ fust-rate in that broker’s office, learnin’ + the trade. Next summer he’ll have another whack at it and learn + more. When he’s out of college I’m goin’ to turn over + your dad’s seat on the Stock Exchange to him. Not give it to him, + you know—not right off—but let him try; and then, if he makes + a good fist at it, he’ll have it permanent. Steve’s got the + best chance in the world. He couldn’t ask much better,<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> seems + to me. You ain’t got to fret yourself about Steve.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, almost out of breath. He had been speaking rapidly so as to + prevent interruption. Caroline’s astonishment was too great for + words, just then. Her uncle anxiously awaited her reply. + </p> + <p> + “You see, don’t you?” he asked. “You understand. + Steve’s goin’ to have the chance to make a good livin’ + at the very thing he declares he’s set on doin’. I ain’t + told him, and I don’t want you to, but it’s what I’ve + planned for him and—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait! wait, Uncle, please! The Stock Exchange seat? Father’s + seat? I don’t see.... I don’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” eagerly; “your pa’s seat. I’ve + meant it for Steve. There’s been chances enough to sell it, but I + wouldn’t do that. ’Twas for him, Caroline; and he’s goin’ + to have it.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t see how.... Why, I thought—” + </p> + <p> + The door of the dining room opened. Annie appeared on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Dinner is served,” she announced. + </p> + <p> + “Be right there, Annie. Now you see that you ain’t got to + worry about Steve, don’t you, Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + His niece did not answer. By the light from the doorway he saw that she + was gazing at him with a strange expression. She looked as if she was + about to ask another question. He waited, but she did not ask it. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, rising, “we won’t talk any more + just now. Annie’s soup’s gettin’ cold, and she’ll + be in our wool if we don’t have dinner. Afterwards we can have + another session. Come, Caroline.” + </p> + <p> + She also rose, but hesitated. “Uncle Elisha,” she said, + “will you excuse me if I don’t talk any more to-night?<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> And, + if you don’t mind, I won’t dine with you. I’m not hungry + and—and my head aches. I’ll go to my room, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” he said, hastily, “of course. I’m + afraid I’ve talked too much as ’tis. You go up and lie down, + and Annie can fetch you some toast and tea or somethin’ by and by. + But do just answer me this, Caroline, if you can: When you told Jim + marryin’ was out of the question for you, did he take that as final? + Was he contented with that? Didn’t he say he was willin’ to + wait for you, or anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he said he would wait, always. But I told him he must not. And + I told him he must go and not see me again. I couldn’t see him as I + have been doing; Uncle, I couldn’t!” + </p> + <p> + “I know, dearie, I know. But didn’t you say anything more? + Didn’t you give him <i>any</i> hope?” + </p> + <p> + “I said,” she hesitated, and added in a whisper, “I said + if I should ever need him or—or change my mind, I would send for + him. I shouldn’t have said it. It was weak and wicked of me, but I + said it. Please let me go now, Uncle dear. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + She kissed him and hurried away. He ate his lonely dinner absent-mindedly + and with little appetite. After it was finished he sat in the living room, + the lamp still unlighted, smoking and thinking. + </p> + <p> + And in her chamber Caroline, too, sat thinking—not altogether of the + man she loved and who loved her. She thought of him, of course; but there + was something else, an idea, a suspicion, which over and over again she + dismissed as an utter impossibility, but which returned as often. + </p> + <p> + The Stock Exchange seat had been a part of her father’s estate, a + part of her own and Steve’s inheritance.<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> Sylvester had told her + so, distinctly. And such a seat was valuable; she remembered her brother + reading in the paper that one had recently sold for ninety thousand + dollars. How could Captain Warren have retained such a costly part of the + forfeited estate in his possession? For it was in his possession; he was + going to give it to her brother when the latter left college. But how + could he have obtained it? Not by purchase; for, as she knew, he was not + worth half of ninety thousand dollars. Surely the creditor, the man who + had, as was his right, seized all Rodgers Warren’s effects, would + not have left that and taken the rest. Not unless he was a curiously + philanthropic and eccentric person. Who was he? Who was this mysterious + man her father had defrauded? She had never wished to know before; now she + did. And the more she pondered, the more plausible her suspicion became. + It was almost incredible, it seemed preposterous; but, as she went back, + in memory, over the events since her father’s death and the + disclosure of his astonishing will, little bits of evidence, little + happenings and details came to light, trifles in themselves, but all + fitting in together, like pieces of an inscription in mosaic, to spell the + truth. + </p> + <hr class="large" /> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER XXII + </h3> + <p class="n"> + <span + style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">N</span>ovember + weather on Cape Cod is what Captain Elisha described as “considerable + chancey.” “The feller that can guess it two days ahead of + time,” he declared, “is wastin’ his talents; he could + make a livin’ prophesyin’ most anything, even the market price + of cranberries.” When Caroline, Sylvester, and the captain reached + South Denboro after what seemed, to the two unused to the leisurely winter + schedule of the railroad, an interminable journey from Fall River, the + girl thought she had never seen a more gloomy sky or a more forbidding + scene. Gray clouds, gray sea, brown bare fields; the village of white or + gray-shingled houses set, for the most part, along the winding main + street; the elms and silver-leaf poplars waving bare branches in the + cutting wind; a picture of the fag end of loneliness and desolation, so it + looked to her. She remembered Mr. Graves’s opinion of the place, as + jokingly reported by Sylvester, and she sympathized with the dignified + junior partner. + </p> + <p> + But she kept her feelings hidden on her uncle’s account. The captain + was probably the happiest individual in the state of Massachusetts that + morning. He hailed the train’s approach to Sandwich as the entrance + to Ostable County, the promised land, and, from that station on, excitedly + pointed out familiar landmarks and bits of scenery and buildings with the + gusto and enthusiasm of a school boy. + </p> + <p> + “That’s Ostable court-house,” he cried, pointing.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> + “And see—see that red-roofed house right over there, just past + that white church? That’s where Judge Baxter lives; a mighty good + friend of mine, the Judge is. I stopped to his house to dinner the night + Graves came.” + </p> + <p> + A little further on he added, “’Twas about here that I spoke + to Graves fust. I noticed him sittin’ right across the aisle from + me, with a face on him sour as a sasser of green tamarind preserves, and I + thought I’d be sociable. ‘Tough night,’ I says. ‘Umph,’ + says he. ’Twa’n’t a remark cal’lated to encourage + conversation, so I didn’t try again—not till his umbrella + turned inside out on the Denboro platform. Ho! ho! I wish you’d have + seen his face <i>then</i>.” + </p> + <p> + At Denboro he pointed out Pete Shattuck’s livery stable, where the + horse and buggy came from which had been the means of transporting Graves + and himself to South Denboro. + </p> + <p> + “See!” he cried. “See that feller holdin’ up the + corner of the depot with his back! the one that’s so broad in the + beam he has to draw in his breath afore he can button his coat. That’s + Pete. You’d think he was too sleepy to care whether ’twas + to-day or next week, wouldn’t you? Well, if you was a summer boarder + and wanted to hire a team, you’d find Pete was awake and got up + early. If a ten-cent piece fell off the shelf in the middle of the night + he’d hear it, though I’ve known him to sleep while the + minister’s barn burned down. The parson had been preachin’ + against horse-tradin’; maybe that sermon was responsible for some of + the morphine influence.” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester was enjoying himself hugely. Captain Elisha’s exuberant + comments were great fun for him. “This is what I came for,” he + confided to Caroline. “I don’t care if it rains or snows. I + could sit and listen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg + 358]</a></span> to your uncle for a year and never tire. He’s a + wonder. And I’m crazy to see that housekeeper of his. If she lives + up to her reputation there’ll be no disappointment in my + Thanksgiving celebration.” + </p> + <p> + Dan, the captain’s hired man, met them with the carriage at the + station, and Miss Baker met them at the door of the Warren home. The + exterior of the big, old-fashioned, rambling house was inviting and + homelike, in spite of the gloomy weather, and Caroline cheered up a bit + when they turned in at the gate. Five minutes of Miss Abigail’s + society, and all gloom disappeared. One could not be gloomy where Miss + Abbie was. Her smile of welcome was so broad that, as her employer said, + “it took in all outdoor and some of Punkhorn Neck,” a place + which, he hastened to add, “was forgot durin’ creation and has + sort of happened of itself since.” + </p> + <p> + Abbie conducted Caroline to her room—old-fashioned, like the rest of + the house, but cozy, warm, and cheery—and, after helping in the + removal of her wraps, seized her by both hands and took a long look at her + face. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll excuse my bein’ so familiar on short + acquaintance, dearie,” she said, “but I’ve heard so much + about you that I feel’s if I knew you like own folks. And you are + own folks, ain’t you? Course you are! Everyone of ’Lisha’s + letters have had four pages of you to one of anything else. I begun to + think New York was nothin’ but you and a whole lot of ten-story + houses. He thinks so much of you that I’d be jealous, if I had that + kind of disposition and the time to spare. So I must have a good look at + you.... I declare! you’re almost prettier than he said. May I kiss + you? I’d like to.” + </p> + <p> + She did, and they were friends at once. + </p> + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 289px;"> + <img src="images/i358.jpg" class="smallgap" width="289" height="500" + alt="“‘I declare! you’re almost prettier than he said. May I kiss you?’”" + title="" /> <span class="caption">“‘I declare! you’re + almost prettier than he said. May I kiss you?’”</span> + </div> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span>The + rest of that day and evening were busy times. Captain Elisha showed his + visitors about the place, the barn, the cows, the pigpen—the pig + himself had gone to fulfill the unhappy destiny of pigs, but they would + meet him by sections later on, so the captain assured them. The house and + buildings were spotless in paint and whitewash; the yard was raked clean + of every dead leaf and twig; the whole establishment was so neat that + Caroline remarked upon it. + </p> + <p> + “It looks as if it had been scoured,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm,” observed her uncle, with a gratified nod; “that’s + Abbie. She hates dirt worse than she does laziness, and that ain’t + sayin’ a little. I tell her she’d sand-soap the weather vane + if she could climb up to it; as ’tis, she stays below and + superintends Dan while he does it. If godliness wants to stay next to + cleanliness when she’s around it has to keep on the jump. I always + buy shirts two degrees heavier’n I need, ’cause I know she’ll + have ’em scrubbed thin in a fortni’t. When it comes to <i>real</i> + Domestic Science, Caroline, Abbie ain’t in the back row of the + primer class, now I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Baker had planned that her young guest should sit in state, with + folded hands, in the parlor. She seemed to consider that the proper + conduct for a former member of New York’s best society. She was + shocked when the girl volunteered to help her about the house. + </p> + <p> + “Course I sha’n’t let you,” she said. “The + idea—and you company! Got more help than I know what to do with, as + ’tis. ’Lisha was determined that I should hire a girl to wash + dishes and things while you was here. Nothin’ would do but that. So + I got Annabel Haven’s daughter, Etta G. There’s fourteen in + that family, and the land knows ’twas an act of charity takin’ + one appetite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> + out of the house. Pay her fifty cents a day, I do, and she’s out in + the kitchen makin’ believe wash windows. They don’t need + washin’, but she was lookin’ out of ’em most of the + time, so I thought she might as well combine business with pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + But Caroline refused to sit in the parlor and be “company.” + She insisted upon helping. Miss Baker protested and declared there was + nothing on earth to be done; but her guest insisted that, if there was + not, she herself must sit. As Abbie would have as soon thought of + attending church without wearing her jet earrings as she would of sitting + down before dinner, she gave in, after a while, and permitted Caroline to + help in arranging the table. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you do fust-rate!” she exclaimed, in surprise. “You + know where everything ought to go, just as if you’d been settin’ + table all your life. And you ain’t, because ’Lisha wrote you + used to keep hired help, two or three of ’em, all the time.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been studying housekeeping for almost a year,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “Studyin’ it! Why, yes, now I remember ’Lisha wrote you’d + been studyin’ some kind of science at college. ’Twa’n’t + settin’ table science, I guess, though. Ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + “That was part of it.” She explained the course briefly. + Abigail listened in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “And they teach that—at school?” she demanded. “And + take money for it? And call it <i>science</i>? My land! I guess I was + brought up in a scientific household, then. I was the only girl in the + family, and mother died when I was ten years old.” + </p> + <p> + After dinner she consented to sit for a time, though<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> not until she had donned + her Sunday best, earrings and all. Captain Elisha and Sylvester sat with + them, and the big fireplace in the sitting room blazed and roared as it + had not since its owner left for his long sojourn in the city. In the + evening callers came, the Congregational minister and his wife, and some + of the neighbors. The latter were pleasant country people, another retired + sea captain among them, and they all seemed to have great respect and + liking for Captain Elisha and to be very glad to welcome him home. The two + captains spun salt water yarns, and the lawyer again decided that he was + getting just what he had come for. They left a little after nine, and + Caroline said good night and went to her room. She was tired, mentally and + physically. + </p> + <p> + But she did not fall asleep at once. Her mind was still busy with the + suspicion which her uncle’s words concerning his future plans for + Steve had aroused. She had thought of little else since she heard them. + The captain did not mention the subject again; possibly, on reflection, he + decided that he had already said too much. And she asked no more + questions. She determined not to question him—yet. She must think + first, and then ask someone else—Sylvester. He knew the truth and, + if taken by surprise, might be driven into confession, if there should be + anything to confess. She was waiting for an opportunity to be alone with + him, and that opportunity had not yet presented itself. + </p> + <p> + The captain would have spoken further with her concerning James Pearson. + He was eager to do that. But her mind was made up; she had sent her lover + away, and it was best for both. She must forget him, if she could. So, + when her uncle would have spoken on that subject, she begged him not to; + and he, respecting her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" + id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> feelings and believing that to urge + would be bad policy, refrained. + </p> + <p> + But to forget, she found, was an impossibility. In the excitement of the + journey and the arrival amid new surroundings, she had managed to keep up + a show of good spirits, but now alone once more, with the wind singing + mournfully about the gables and rattling the windows, she was sad and so + lonely. She thought what her life had once promised to be and what it had + become. She did not regret the old life, that life she had known before + her father died; she had been happy in it while he lived, but miserable + after his death. As for happiness, she had been happy that summer, happy + with her uncle and with—him. And with him now, even though they + would be poor, as she was used to reckoning poverty, she knew she could be + very happy. She wondered what he was doing then; if he was thinking of + her. She ought to hope that he was not, because it was useless; but she + wished that he might be, nevertheless. Then she told herself that all this + was wicked; she had made up her mind; she must be true to the task she had + set, duty to her brother and uncle. + </p> + <p> + Her uncle! why had her uncle done all this for her? And why had her father + made him their guardian? These were old questions, but now she asked them + with a new significance. If that strange suspicion of hers was true it + would explain so much; it would explain almost everything. But it could + not be true; if it was, why had he not told her when the discovery of her + father’s dishonesty and of the note forfeiting the estate was made? + Why had he not told her then? That was what troubled her most. It did not + seem like him to do such a thing—not like his character at all. + Therefore, it could not be true. Yet she must know. She<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> + resolved to question Sylvester the next day, if possible. And, so + resolving, she at last fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + Her opportunity came the following morning, the day before Thanksgiving. + After breakfast Captain Elisha went downtown to call on some + acquaintances. He invited Caroline and the lawyer to accompany him, but + they refused, the latter because he judged his, a stranger’s, + presence during the calls would be something of a hindrance to good + fellowship and the discussion of town affairs which the captain was + counting on, and Caroline because she saw her chance for the interview she + so much desired. + </p> + <p> + After the captain had gone, Sylvester sat down before the fire in the + sitting room to read the Boston <i>Transcript</i>. As he sat there, + Caroline entered and closed the door behind her. Miss Abigail was in the + kitchen, busy with preparations for the morrow’s plum pudding. + </p> + <p> + The girl took the chair next that occupied by the lawyer. He put down his + paper and turned to her. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he asked, “how does this Cape Cod air effect + your appetite, Caroline? I’m ashamed of mine. I’m rather glad + to-morrow is Thanksgiving; on that day, I believe, it is permissible, even + commendable, to eat three times more than a self-respecting person + ordinarily should.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, but her answer was in the form of another question, and quite + irrelevant. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Sylvester,” she said, “I wish you would tell me + something about the value of a seat on the Stock Exchange. What is the + price of one?” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer looked at her in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “The value of a seat on the Stock Exchange?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; what does it cost to buy one?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span>He + hesitated, wondering why she should be interested in that subject. Captain + Elisha had not told him a word of the interview following Pearson’s + last visit. He wondered, and then surmised a reason—Stephen, of + course. Steve’s ambition was to be a broker, and his sister was, + doubtless, with sisterly solicitude and feminine ignorance of high prices, + planning for his future. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he replied, smiling, “they’re pretty + expensive, I’m afraid, Caroline.” + </p> + <p> + “Are they?” innocently. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I think the last sale was at a figure between ninety and one + hundred thousand dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! Was father’s seat worth as much as that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” with a sigh, “that, I suppose, went with the rest + of the estate.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Into the hands of the man who took it all?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; the same hands,” with a sly smile at his own private + joke. + </p> + <p> + “Then how does it happen that my uncle has it in his possession?” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer smiled no more. He turned in his chair and gazed quickly and + keenly at the young lady beside him. And her gaze was just as keen as his + own. + </p> + <p> + “What did you say?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I asked you how it happened that my uncle now has father’s + Stock Exchange seat in his possession.” + </p> + <p> + “Why!... Has he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And I think you know he has, Mr. Sylvester. I know it, because + he told me so himself. <i>Didn’t</i> you know it?” + </p> + <p> + This was a line shot from directly in front and a<span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> hard one to dodge. A lie + was the only guard, and he was not in the habit of lying, even + professionally. + </p> + <p> + “I—I cannot answer these questions,” he declared. + “They involve professional secrets and—” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see that this is a secret. My uncle has already told + me. What I could not understand was how he obtained the seat from the man + to whom it was given as a part of father’s debt. Do you know how he + obtained it?” + </p> + <p> + “Er—well—er—probably an arrangement was made. I + cannot go into details, because—well, for obvious reasons. You must + excuse me, Caroline.” + </p> + <p> + He rose to go. + </p> + <p> + “One moment more,” she said, “and one more question. Mr. + Sylvester, who <i>is</i> this mysterious person—this stockholder + whom father defrauded, this person who wishes his name kept a secret, but + who does such queer things? Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, I tell you I cannot answer these questions. He does wish + to remain unknown, as I told you and your brother when we first learned of + him and his claim. If I were to tell you I should break my faith with + him.... You must excuse me; you really must.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Sylvester, perhaps you don’t need to tell me. Perhaps I + can guess. Isn’t he my—” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, I cannot—” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Isn’t he my uncle, Elisha Warren?</i>” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester was half way to the door, but she was in his path and looking + him directly in the face. He hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I thought so,” she said. “You needn’t answer, Mr. + Sylvester; your face is answer enough. He is.” + </p> + <p> + She turned away, and, walking slowly to the chair from which she had + arisen, sank into it. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span>“He + is,” she repeated. “I knew it. I wonder that I didn’t + know it from the very first. How could I have been so blind!” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer, nervous, chagrined, and greatly troubled, remained standing by + the door. He did not know whether to go or stay. He took his handkerchief + from his pocket and wiped his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” he exclaimed. “Well, by—<i>George</i>!” + </p> + <p> + She paid no attention to him, but went on, speaking, apparently, to + herself. + </p> + <p> + “It explains everything,” she said. “He was father’s + brother; and father, in some way, took and used his money. But father knew + what sort of man he was, and so he asked him to be our guardian. Father + thought he would be kind to us, I suppose. And he has been kind—he + has. But why did he keep it a secret? Why did he.... I don’t + understand that. Of course the money was his; all we had was his, by + right. But to say nothing ... and to let us believe.... It does not seem + like him at all. It....” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester interrupted quickly. “Caroline! Caroline!” he said, + “don’t make any mistake. Don’t misjudge your uncle + again. He is a good man; one of the best men I ever knew. Yes, and one of + the wisest. Don’t say or think anything for which you may be sorry. + I am speaking as your friend.” + </p> + <p> + She turned toward him once more, the distressed, puzzled look still on her + face. “But I don’t understand,” she cried. “He.... + Oh, Mr. Sylvester, please, now that I do know—now that you have told + me so much—won’t you tell me the rest; the reason and—all + of it? Please!” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer shook his head, regarding her with an expression of annoyance + and reluctant admiration. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span>“Now + that <i>I’ve</i> told you!” he repeated. “I don’t + remember that I’ve told you anything.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have. Not in words, perhaps, but you have told me. I know. + Please go on and tell me all. If you don’t,” with + determination, “I shall make Uncle Elisha tell me as soon as he + comes. I shall!” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester sighed. “Well, by George!” he repeated, feelingly. + “I’ll tell you one thing, young woman, you’re wasting + your talents. You should be a member of the bar. Anyone who can lead a + battle-scarred veteran of cross-examination like myself into a trap and + then spring it on him, as you have done, is gifted by Providence.” + </p> + <p> + “But will you tell me?” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated, perplexed and doubtful. + </p> + <p> + “I ought not to say another word on the subject,” he declared, + emphatically. “What Captain Warren will say to me when he finds this + out is unpleasant to consider. But.... But yet, I don’t know. It may + be better for you to learn the real truth than to know a part and guess + wrongly at the rest. I.... What is it you want me to tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything. I want you to sit down here by me and tell me the whole + story, from the beginning. Please.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated a moment longer and, then, his mind made up, returned to his + chair, crossed his legs and began. “Here it is,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, about twenty years ago, or such matter, your father was a + comparatively poor man—poor, I mean, compared to what he afterward + became. But he was a clever man, an able business man, one who saw + opportunities and grasped them. At that time he obtained a grant in South + America for—” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span>“I + know,” she interrupted; “the Akrae Rubber Company was formed. + You told Steve and me all about that. What I want to know is—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait. I did not tell you all about it. I said that another man + invested ten thousand dollars with your father to form that company. That + man, so we now know, was your uncle, Captain Elisha Warren.” + </p> + <p> + “I guessed that. Of course it must have been he.” + </p> + <p> + “It was. The captain was older than your father, had lived + carefully, and had saved some money. Also, at that time, he idolized his + brother and believed in his shrewdness and capability. He invested this + ten thousand on Rodgers Warren’s word that the investment was likely + to be a good one. That, and to help the latter in business. For a few + years the company did nothing; during that time your father and uncle + disagreed—concerning another matter, quite unconnected with this one—and + they did not see each other again while Rodgers lived. In that long period + the Akrae Company made millions. But Elisha supposed it to be bankrupt and + worthless; because—well, to be frank, because his brother wrote him + to that effect.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, fearful of the effect which this announcement might have upon + the girl. But she had guessed this part of her father’s dishonor and + was prepared for it. She made no comment, and he continued. + </p> + <p> + “Now we come to the will. Your father, Caroline, was not a bad man + at heart. I knew him well, and I believe that may be said truthfully. He + realized what he had done, how he had defrauded the brother who had been + so kind to him, and he meant, he kept promising himself, to some day repay + the money he had taken. To insure that, he put that note with the other + papers of the Company. If he did repay, it could be destroyed.<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> If he + did not, if he should die, it would be there to prove—what it did + prove. But always in his mind was the thought of you and Steve, the + children he loved. He had quarreled with his brother it is true; he had + cheated him, but restitution for that cheat he had provided. But what + would become of you, left—in case he died without making restitution—penniless? + He knew his brother, as I said; knew his character, respected his honesty, + and believed in his conscientiousness and his big heart. So he made his + will, and in it, as you know, he appointed Elisha your guardian. He threw + his children and their future upon the mercy and generosity of the brother + he had wronged. That is his reason, as we surmise it, for making that + will.” + </p> + <p> + He paused again. Caroline did not speak for a moment. Then she asked: + </p> + <p> + “And no one knew—you or my uncle or anyone—of all this + until last March?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Graves had, with his usual care and patience, pieced together + the evidence and investigated until we were sure that a stockholder in the + Akrae Company existed and that all of your father’s estate belonged + to him. Who that stockholder was we did not know until that day of the + meeting at our office. Then Captain Warren told us.” + </p> + <p> + “But he did not know, either?” + </p> + <p> + “Not until then. He supposed his Akrae stock worthless, and had + practically forgotten it. When we told him of its value, of the note, and + of the missing shareholder, he knew, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “Say? Caroline, he was the most distressed and conscience-stricken + man in the city. One would have thought he was the wrongdoer and not the + wronged.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> + He would have gone straight to you and asked your pardon, if we would have + permitted it.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mr. Sylvester, now we are coming to the part I cannot + understand. Of course the estate belonged to him, I know that. It is his. + But why didn’t he tell Steve and me the truth then, at once? Why did + he let us believe, and employ you to lead us to believe, that it was not + he but someone else? Did he think we would blame him? Why has he—” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline! Caroline! don’t you understand yet? Do you imagine + for one moment that your uncle intends keeping that money?” + </p> + <p> + She stared at him in utter amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Keeping it?” she repeated. “Why not? It is his. It + belongs to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, I’m afraid you don’t know him, even yet. He + was for going to you at once and destroying the note in your presence. He + would have done it, but we persuaded him to wait and think it over for a + day or two. He did think and then decided to wait a little longer, for + your sake.” + </p> + <p> + “For my sake? For mine?” she passed her hand in a bewildered + way across her forehead. “Mr. Sylvester, I don’t seem to + understand even now. I—” + </p> + <p> + “For your sake, Caroline. Remember, at that time you were engaged to + Malcolm Dunn.” + </p> + <p> + Her intent gaze wavered. She drew a long breath. “I see,” she + said, slowly. “Oh.... I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Captain Warren is one of the best judges of character I ever + met. The Dunns did not deceive him for one moment. He was certain Malcolm + intended marrying you because of your money; for that matter, so was I. + But his was the plan entirely which showed them to you as they were. He + knew you were too honest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" + id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> and straightforward to believe such + things of the man to whom you were engaged if they were told you; you must + see the proof with your own eyes. And he showed it to you.” + </p> + <p> + “But then,” she begged, distractedly, “why couldn’t + he tell me after that? I—I am so stupid, I suppose—but, Mr. + Sylvester, all this is—is—” + </p> + <p> + “He might have told you then, but he did not think it best. + Caroline, your uncle has always believed in you. Even when you sent him + from your home he did not blame you; he said you were deceived, that was + all. But, too, he has always declared that you had been, as he expressed + it, ‘brought up wrong.’ Your money had, in a way, warped your + estimate of people and things. He believed that, if you were given the + opportunity, you would learn that wealth does not, of itself, mean + happiness. So he decided not to tell you, not to give you back your share + of your father’s money—he refuses to consider it his—until + another year, until you were of age, at least. And there was Steve. You + know, Caroline, that money and what it brought was spoiling Steve. He has + never been so much a man as during the past year, when he thought himself + poor. But your uncle has planned for him as well as for you and, when he + believes the time has come, he—” + </p> + <p> + “Please,” she interrupted, falteringly; “please don’t + say any more. Let me think. Oh, please let me think, Mr. Sylvester.... You + say that Uncle Elisha intends giving us all that father took from him? All + of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, all. He considers himself merely your guardian still and will + accept only his expenses from the estate.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but it is wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span>“Yes, + it is. But I have learned to think him a wonderful man.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “It is wonderful!” she repeated, brokenly. “Even though + we cannot take it, it is wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + “What? Cannot take it?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not! Do you suppose that either my brother or I will take + the fortune that our father stole—yes, <i>stole</i> from him? After + he has been living almost in poverty all these years and we in luxury—on + <i>his</i> money? Of course we shall not take it!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Caroline, I imagine you will have to take it. I understand + your feelings, but I think he will compel you to take it.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall <i>not</i>!” she sprang to her feet. “Of course + I shall not! Never! never!” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that you’re never goin’ to take, Caroline? + Measles? or another trip down in these parts? I hope ’tain’t + the last, ’cause I’ve been cal’latin’ you’d + like it well enough to come again.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline turned. So did Sylvester. Captain Elisha was standing in the + doorway, his hand on the knob. He was smiling broadly, but as he looked at + the two by the fire he ceased to smile. + </p> + <p> + “What’s all this?” he asked, suspiciously. “Caroline, + what—Sylvester, what have you been tellin’ her?” + </p> + <p> + Neither answered at once. The captain looked from one to the other. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what’s up?” he demanded. “What’s the + matter?” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “What’s up?” he repeated. “Humph! well, I should + say the jig was up. The murder’s out. The cat is no longer in the + bag. That’s about the size of it.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span>“Sylvester!” + Caroline had never seen her uncle thoroughly angry before; “Sylvester,” + he cried, “have you—Have you dast to tell her what you shouldn’t? + Didn’t you promise me? If you told that girl, I’ll—I’ll—” + </p> + <p> + His niece stepped forward. “Hush, Uncle Elisha,” she said. + “He didn’t tell me until I knew already. I guessed it. Then I + asked for the whole truth, and he told me.” + </p> + <p> + “The whole truth? <i>Caroline!</i>” + </p> + <p> + He wrung his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Uncle, the whole truth. I know you now. I thought I knew you + before; but I didn’t—not half. I do now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Caroline!” he stepped toward her and then stopped, + frantic and despairing. “Caroline! Caroline!” he cried again, + “can you ever forgive me? You know—you must know I ain’t + ever meant to keep it. It’s all yours. I just didn’t give it + to you right off because ... because.... Oh, Sylvester, tell her I never + meant to keep it! Tell her!” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer shook his head. “I did tell her,” he said, with + another shrug, “and she tells me she won’t accept it.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” the captain’s eyes were starting from his head. + “What? Won’t take it? Why, it’s hers—hers and + Steve’s! It always has been! Do you cal’late I’d rob my + own brother’s children? <i>Don’t</i> talk so foolish! I won’t + hear such talk!” + </p> + <p> + Caroline was close to tears, but she was firm. + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t ours,” she said. “It is yours. Our + father kept it from you all these years. Do you suppose we will keep it + any longer?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Elisha looked at her determined face; then at <span class="pagenum"><a + name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span>the lawyer’s—but + he found no help there. His chin thrust forward. He nodded slowly. + </p> + <p> + “All right! all right!” he said, grimly. “Sylvester, is + your shop goin’ to be open to-morrer?” + </p> + <p> + “Guess not, Captain,” was the puzzled reply. “It’s + Thanksgiving. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “But Graves’ll be to home, won’t he? I could find him at + his house?” + </p> + <p> + “I presume you could.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, then! Caroline Warren, you listen to me: I’ll give + you till two o’clock to make up your mind to take the money that + belongs to you. If you don’t, I swear to the Lord A’mighty I’ll + take the fust train, go straight to New York, hunt up Graves, make him go + down to the office and get that note your father made out turnin’ + all his property over to that Akrae Company. I’ll get that note and + I’ll burn it up. Then—<i>then</i> you’ll have to take + the money, because it’ll be yours. Every bit of evidence that’ll + hold in law is gone, and nobody but you and Steve’ll have the shadow + of a claim. I’ll do it, so sure as I live! There! now you can make + up your mind.” + </p> + <p> + He turned, strode to the door and out of the room. A moment later they + heard a scream from Miss Baker in the kitchen: “’Lisha Warren, + what ails you? Are you crazy?” There was no answer, but the back + door closed with a tremendous bang. + </p> + <hr class="medium" /> + <p> + Half an hour after his dramatic exit Captain Elisha was pacing up and down + the floor of the barn. It was an old refuge of his, a place where he was + accustomed to go when matters requiring deliberation and thought oppressed + him. He was alone. Dan had taken the horse to the blacksmith’s to be + shod. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span>The + captain strode across the floor, turned and strode back again. Every few + moments he looked at his watch. It was a long way to two o’clock, + but each additional moment was another weight piled upon his soul. As he + turned in his stride he saw a shadow move across the sill of the big, open + door. He caught his breath and stopped. + </p> + <p> + Caroline entered the barn. She came straight to him and put her hands upon + the lapels of his coat. Her eyes were wet and shining. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline?” he faltered, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “You good man!” she breathed, softly. “Oh, you <i>good</i> + man!” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline!” his voice shook, but there was hope in it. “Caroline, + you’re goin’ to take the money?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Uncle Elisha. Mr. Sylvester has shown me that I must. He says + you will do something desperate if I refuse.” + </p> + <p> + “I sartin would! And you’ll take it, really?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Uncle Elisha.” + </p> + <p> + “Glory be! And—and, Caroline, you won’t hold it against + me, my makin’ you think you was poor, and makin’ you live in + that little place, and get along on just so much, and all that? Can you + forgive me for doin’ that?” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive you? Can I ever thank you enough? I know I can’t; but + I can try all my life to prove what—” + </p> + <p> + “S-s-h-h! s-s-h!... There!” with a great sigh, almost a sob, + of relief, “I guess this’ll be a real Thanksgivin’, + after all.” + </p> + <p> + But, a few minutes later, another thought came to him. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline,” he asked, “I wonder if, now that things are + as they are, you couldn’t do somethin’ else—somethin’ + that would please me an awful lot?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span>“What + is it, Uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s somethin’ perhaps I ain’t got any right to + ask. You mustn’t say yes if you don’t want to. The other day + you told me you cared for Jim Pearson, but that you sent him away ’cause + you thought you had to earn a livin’ for you and Steve. Now you know + that you ain’t got to do that. And you said you told him if you ever + changed your mind you’d send for him. Don’t you s’pose + you could send for him now—right off—so he could get here for + this big Thanksgivin’ of ours? Don’t you think you could, + Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + He looked down into her face, and she looked down at the barn floor. But + he saw the color creep up over her forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Send for him—now?” she asked, in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Now—right off. In time for to-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + “He could not get here,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he could. If you send him a telegram with one word in it: + ‘Come’—and sign it ‘Caroline’—he’ll + be here on to-morrow mornin’s train, or I’ll eat my hat and + one of Abbie’s bonnets hove in. Think you could, Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + A moment; then in a whisper, “Yes, Uncle Elisha.” + </p> + <p> + “Hooray! But—but,” anxiously, “hold on, Caroline. + Tell me truly now. You ain’t doin’ this just to please me? You + mustn’t do that, not for the world and all. You mustn’t send + for him on my account. Only just for one reason—because <i>you</i> + want him.” + </p> + <p> + He waited for his answer. Then she looked up, blushing still, but with a + smile trembling on her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Uncle Elisha,” she said, “because <i>I</i> want + him.” + </p> + <hr class="medium" /> + <p> + The clouds blew away that night, and Thanksgiving day dawned clear and + cold. The gray sea was now blue;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" + id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> the white paint of the houses and fences + glistened in the sun; the groves of pitchpine were brilliant green + blotches spread like rugs here and there on the brown hills. South Denboro + had thrown off its gloomy raiment and was “all dolled up for + Thanksgivin’,” so Captain Elisha said. + </p> + <p> + The captain and Sylvester were leaning on the fence by the gate, looking + up the road and waiting for Dan and the “two-seater” to heave + in sight around the bend. The hired man had harnessed early and driven to + the station at least thirty minutes before train time. Captain Elisha was + responsible for the early start. Steve was coming on that train; possibly + someone else was coming. The captain did not mean they should find no + welcome or vehicle at the station. + </p> + <p> + The whistle had sounded ten minutes before. It was time for Dan to appear + at the bend. + </p> + <p> + “I hope to thunder Jim got that telegram,” observed the + captain for the twentieth time, at least, since breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” replied his friend. “There’s no reason + why he shouldn’t, is there?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no sensible one; but I’ve scared up no less than a couple + of hundred of the other kind. If he shouldn’t come—my, my! she’d + be disappointed.” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t feel any disappointment yourself, of course,” + said the lawyer, with sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + “Who? Me? Oh, I’d be sorer’n a scalded wharf rat in a + barrel of pepper. But I don’t count. There’s the real one up + there.” + </p> + <p> + He motioned with his head toward the window of Caroline’s room. + Sylvester nodded. “Yes,” he said, “I suppose so. + Captain, I’m somewhat surprised that you should be willing to trust + that niece of yours to another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" + id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> man. She’s a pretty precious + article, according to your estimate.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, ain’t she accordin’ to yours?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Pretty precious and precious pretty. Look at her now.” + </p> + <p> + They turned in time to catch a glimpse of the girl as she parted the + curtains and looked out on the road. She saw them looking at her, smiled, + blushed, and disappeared. Both men smoked in silence for a moment. Then + the captain said: + </p> + <p> + “Waitin’. Hi hum! nothin’ like it, when you’re + waitin’ for <i>the</i> one, is there?” + </p> + <p> + “No, nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. Well, for a pair of old single hulks our age, strikes me we’re + gettin’ pretty sentimental. You say you wonder I’d trust + Caroline to another man; I wouldn’t to the average one. But Jim + Pearson’s all right. You’ll say so, too, when you know him as + well as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll trust your judgment, any time. So you won’t tell + Steve yet awhile that he’s not broke?” + </p> + <p> + “No. And Caroline won’t tell him, either. Steve’s doin’ + fust-rate as he is. He’s in the pickle tub and ’twill do him + good to season a spell longer. But I think he’s goin’ to be + all right by and by. Say, Sylvester, this New York cruise of mine turned + out pretty good, after all, didn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly good. It was the making of your niece and nephew. + Caroline realizes it now; and so will Steve later on.” + </p> + <p> + “Hope so. It didn’t do <i>me</i> any harm,” with a + chuckle. “I wouldn’t have missed that little beat up the bay + with Marm Dunn for a good deal. For a spell there we was bows abreast, and + ’twas hard to tell who’d turn the mark first. Heard from the + Dunns lately?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span>“No. + Why, yes, I did hear that they were in a tighter box than ever, + financially. The smash will come pretty soon.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry. The old lady’ll go down with colors nailed + to the mast, I’ll bet; and she’ll leave a lot of suds where + she sank. Do you know, I never blamed her so much. She was built that way. + She’s consider’ble like old Mrs. Patience Blodgett, who used + to live up here to the Neck; like her—only there never was two + people more different. Pashy was the craziest blue-ribboner you ever saw. + Her one idea in life was gettin’ folks to sign the pledge. She + married Tim Blodgett, who was the wust soak in the county—he’d + have figgered out, if you analyzed him, about like a bottle of patent + medicine, seventy-two per cent alcohol. Well, Pashy married him to reform + him, and she made her brags that she’d get him to sign the pledge. + And she did, but only by puttin’ it in front of him when he was too + drunk to read it.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer laughed heartily. “So you think Mrs. Corcoran Dunn + resembles her, do you,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + “In one way—yes. Both of ’em sacrifice everything else + to one idea. Pashy’s was gettin’ that pledge signed, and never + mind ways and means. Mrs. Dunn’s is money and position—never + mind how they come. See what I’m drivin’ at?” + </p> + <p> + Sylvester laughed again. “I guess so,” he said. “Captain + Warren, I never saw you in better spirits. Do you know what I think? I + think that, for a chap who has just given away half of a good-sized + fortune and intends giving away the other half, you’re the most + cheerful specimen I ever saw.” + </p> + <p> + The captain laughed, too. “I am, ain’t I,” he said. + “Well, I can say truthful what I never expected to say<span + class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> in my + life—that <i>once</i> I was wuth ha’f a million dollars. As + for the rest of it, I’m like that millionaire—that.... Hi! + Look! There comes Dan! See him!” + </p> + <p> + They peered eagerly over the fence. The Warren “two-seater” + had rounded the bend in the road. Dan was driving. Beside him sat a young + fellow who waved his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Steve!” cried the captain, excitedly. “There’s + Steve! And—and—yes, there’s somebody on the back seat. + It’s Jim! He’s come! Hooray!” + </p> + <p> + He was darting out of the gate, but his friend seized his coat. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” he cried. “I don’t want to lose the rest + of that sentence. You said you were like some millionaire. Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t bother me,” cried Captain Elisha. “Who? + Why, I was goin’ to say I was like that millionaire chap who passes + out a library every time he wakes up and happens to think of it. You know + who I mean.... Ahoy there, Jim! Ahoy, Steve!” + </p> + <p> + He was waving his hand to the passengers in the approaching vehicle. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” prompted his friend, hastily, “I know who you + mean—Carnegie.” + </p> + <p> + “That‘s the feller. I’ve come to feel about the way he + says he does—that ’twould be a crime for me to die rich.” + </p> + <h3> + THE END + </h3> + <hr class="large" /> + <h3> + <span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Note:</span> + </h3> + <p> + The original book did not have a Table of Contents; one has been added to + this e-text for the reader’s convenience. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Cap'n Warren's Wards, by Joseph C. Lincoln + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAP'N WARREN'S WARDS *** + +***** This file should be named 3280-h.htm or 3280-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/8/3280/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson and D. A. Alexander + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, 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 http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> diff --git a/3280-h/images/i001.jpg b/3280-h/images/i001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..90a5c40 --- /dev/null +++ b/3280-h/images/i001.jpg diff --git a/3280-h/images/i003.jpg b/3280-h/images/i003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..78a938b --- /dev/null +++ b/3280-h/images/i003.jpg diff --git a/3280-h/images/i194.jpg b/3280-h/images/i194.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fb5997e --- /dev/null +++ b/3280-h/images/i194.jpg diff --git a/3280-h/images/i358.jpg b/3280-h/images/i358.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d381367 --- /dev/null +++ b/3280-h/images/i358.jpg diff --git a/3280-h/images/i60.jpg b/3280-h/images/i60.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c257c91 --- /dev/null +++ b/3280-h/images/i60.jpg diff --git a/3280-h/images/icover.jpg b/3280-h/images/icover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ef0f45 --- /dev/null +++ b/3280-h/images/icover.jpg |
