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diff --git a/34575-h/34575-h.htm b/34575-h/34575-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..81b325b --- /dev/null +++ b/34575-h/34575-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15021 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en" > +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta name="generator" content="eppg.py 0.88 (09-Nov-2010)" /> + <title>The Triumph of Virginia Dale</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1,h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h1 {font-size:1.6em; margin-top:4ex; margin-bottom:2ex;} + h2 {font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4ex; margin-bottom:2ex;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver; clear:both;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + div.figcenter {text-align:center; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em;} + div.figcenter p {text-align:center;} + p.center {text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} + p.caption {font-size:smaller;} + div.titlepage {} + div.titlepage p {text-align:center;} + .fs20 {font-size:2.0em;} + .mb15 {margin-bottom:15px;} + .i {font-style:italic;} + .fs12 {font-size:1.2em;} + .fs08 {font-size:0.8em;} + .mb30 {margin-bottom:30px;} + hr.books {border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black;width:30px} + .mb20 {margin-bottom:20px;} + .fsl {font-size:larger} + .c {text-align:center;} + a {text-decoration:none;} + div.toc {} + div.toc a {text-decoration:underline;} + table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; clear:both;} + td.tcol1 {text-align:right; padding-right:1ex; vertical-align:top;} + td.tcol2 {text-align:left; padding-right:5em; font-variant:small-caps; vertical-align:top;} + td.tcol3 {text-align:right; vertical-align:bottom;} + td.center {text-align:center;} + td.fs12 {font-size:1.2em;} + td.fs08 {font-size:0.8em;} + td.tar {text-align:right;} + div.loi {} + div.loi a {text-decoration:underline;} + td.tcol1i {text-align:left; padding-right:1ex; vertical-align:top;} + td.tcol2i {text-align:right; padding-left:2ex; vertical-align:top;} + span.h2fs {font-size:smaller;} + div.poetry {text-indent:0em; margin-left:2em; margin-bottom:.7em; margin-top:.7em;} + div.poetry p {margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;} + div.bquote {font-size:1.0em; margin:5px 5%;} + div.bquote p {text-indent:0em; margin-bottom:4px; margin-top:4px;} + p.btar {text-align:right; margin-right:5%} + .mt20 {margin-top:20px;} + .fss {font-size:smaller} + hr.ad {border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black;width:100px} + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Triumph of Virginia Dale, by John Francis, Jr. + +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: The Triumph of Virginia Dale + +Author: John Francis, Jr. + +Illustrator: W. Haskell Coffin + John Goss + +Release Date: December 5, 2010 [EBook #34575] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRIUMPH OF VIRGINIA DALE *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Roger Frank and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' /> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i2'></a><img src='images/frontis.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +<i>VIRGINIA DALE</i> +</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='titlepage'> +<p class='fs20 mb15'><span class='i'>The</span> TRIUMPH <span class='i'>of</span><br />VIRGINIA DALE</p> +<p class='fs12 mb15'><span class='i'>By</span> JOHN FRANCIS, <span class='sc'>Jr.</span></p> +<p class='fs08'>WITH A FRONTISPIECE IN FULL COLOR<br />FROM A PAINTING BY</p> +<p class='mb30'>W. HASKELL COFFIN</p> +<p class='fs08'>AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS FROM DRAWINGS<br />BY</p> +<p>JOHN GOSS</p> +<div style='text-align:center; margin:20px auto 60px auto;'> +<img src='images/illus002.png' alt='' /> +</div> +<p>BOSTON</p> +<p class='fs12'>THE PAGE COMPANY</p> +<p>MDCCCCXXI</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='titlepage fs08'> +<p><span class='i'>Copyright, 1921</span><br /><span class='sc'>By The Page Company</span></p> +<hr class='books' /> +<p class='i'>All rights reserved</p> +<hr class='books' /> +<p class='mb20'>Entered at Stationers’ Hall, London</p> +<p class='mb20'>First Impression, August, 1921</p> +<p>THE COLONIAL PRESS<br />C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c fs08'>DEDICATED<br />TO THE MEMORY OF<br /><span class='fsl'>MY FATHER</span> AND <span class='fsl'>MOTHER</span></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='toc'> +<table summary='TOC'> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'>CONTENTS</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'></td></tr> +<tr><td class='fs08'>CHAPTER</td><td colspan='2' class='tar fs08'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>I</td><td class='tcol2'>Her Mission in Life</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_1'>1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>II</td><td class='tcol2'>The Mission Begun</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_2'>17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>III</td><td class='tcol2'>Ungiven Advice</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_3'>29</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>IV</td><td class='tcol2'>Those Darkies Again</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_4'>37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>V</td><td class='tcol2'>Accidents Will Happen</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_5'>45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VI</td><td class='tcol2'>Ike Explains</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_6'>59</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VII</td><td class='tcol2'>Joe Proves Interesting</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_7'>74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VIII</td><td class='tcol2'>Another Opportunity</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_8'>97</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>IX</td><td class='tcol2'>Hezekiah Has a Solution</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_9'>118</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>X</td><td class='tcol2'>An Afternoon Off</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_10'>143</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XI</td><td class='tcol2'>Old Hearts Made Young</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_11'>161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XII</td><td class='tcol2'>More Trouble</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_12'>183</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIII</td><td class='tcol2'>Virginia Helps Again</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_13'>195</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIV</td><td class='tcol2'>An Outing and an Accident</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_14'>209</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XV</td><td class='tcol2'>A Man in Disgrace</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_15'>236</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVI</td><td class='tcol2'>Virginia Must Go</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_16'>262</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVII</td><td class='tcol2'>A Friend in Need</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_17'>276</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVIII</td><td class='tcol2'>Aunt Kate Lends a Hand</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_18'>292</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIX</td><td class='tcol2'>Obadiah “Comes-To”</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_19'>308</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XX</td><td class='tcol2'>His Journey’s End</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_20'>330</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXI</td><td class='tcol2'>The Triumph</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_21'>339</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXII</td><td class='tcol2'>Nobody Home, Mr. Devil</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_22'>353</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<table summary='LOI'> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' class='tar fs08'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'><span class='sc'>Virginia Dale</span> (<span class='sc'>in full color</span>)</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i2'><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'>“<span class='sc'>This request appeared to require deep thought</span>”</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i3'>155</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'>“‘<span class='sc'>I must choose between your way and the way of my Mother</span>’”</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i4'>251</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'>“<span class='sc'>‘I think that I shall love it,’ she said softly</span>”</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i5'>261</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'>“<span class='sc'>‘You are my sweetheart,’ the brazen Helen told him</span>”</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i6'>297</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<h1>THE TRIUMPH OF VIRGINIA DALE</h1> + +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1'></a>1</span><a id='link_1'></a>CHAPTER I<br /><span class='h2fs'>HER MISSION IN LIFE</span></h2> + +<p>Obadiah Dale was the richest man in South Ridgefield. +He owned the great textile mill down by the +river where hundreds of people were employed and +which hummed and clattered from morning until night +to add to his wealth. He lived in a fine house. About +it, broad lawns, shaded by ancient elms and dotted +with groups of shrubbery, formed a verdant setting +for the walls and massive porch pillars spotless in +white paint.</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s only child was Virginia. She was a +charming bit of girlhood with a complexion so clear +that it seemed pale in contrast to the black hair and +the clearly lined brows which arched those big, serious, +blue eyes.</p> + +<p>On an afternoon in early June she was reading on +the couch which swung from the lofty ceiling of the +porch when she became aware that some one was coming +up the walk from the gate. She arose and her +face lighted with happiness as she ran down the steps +to greet a smartly dressed woman of middle age. +“Oh, Hennie dear,” she cried, “I am so glad that +you’ve come.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2'></a>2</span>The older woman laughed gaily as she caught the +girl in her arms, “You know I couldn’t forget your +birthday, Virginia.”</p> + +<p>“No, you wouldn’t do that, Hennie. You don’t +come often,” the girl sighed, “but you always remember +that.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson kissed her little hostess. Always +had her big heart gone out to this motherless maid. +Long ago she had been the intimate friend of Virginia’s +mother. Elinor Dale had died when her daughter +was a year old so that Hennie had a twofold reason +for loving her young friend.</p> + +<p>“It’s good to have you here,” exclaimed the girl +as she drew her visitor to a chair by the couch. “I +wish you would come every day.”</p> + +<p>“Now, listen to that. Wouldn’t it be better, please, +for you to come and see me instead of planning for +a poor old woman,”–Mrs. Henderson did not look +the part–“who has twinges of rheumatism, to make +daily calls upon you?”</p> + +<p>Virginia regarded her guest with great seriousness. +“I come to your house very often, Hennie. I was +over the other day, but,”–she gave another sigh,–“you +were not home.”</p> + +<p>“I do remember. Carrie told me that you were +over with Serena. I supposed that you came to see +her. I am on so many committees for various charitable +organizations<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” She stopped short and reaching +over patted the girl’s hand. “I am sorry that +I was not home, dear. I should remember that you +are rather old to call upon my negro cook.”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s eyes danced. “I must have called upon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3'></a>3</span> +Carrie a thousand times since I was a baby. A few +more calls in your kitchen instead of your parlor won’t +hurt me.”</p> + +<p>“Why are you laughing?” demanded Mrs. Henderson.</p> + +<p>“I can tell you a secret about your own house but +you must agree not to use it against Carrie.”</p> + +<p>“I promise.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Hennie, you might be interested to know +that refreshments are served oftener in your kitchen +than your parlor. I learned that years ago.”</p> + +<p>“The very idea!” exclaimed the caller.</p> + +<p>The girl’s gaze wandered thoughtfully over the beautiful +grounds. “I do so love to have you here. I +don’t see very many people.” Her voice was wistful. +“This big place gets lonesome sometimes. I think +I envy girls who live in houses with stoops on the +sidewalk. They have the cars, peddlers, policemen +and lots of people going by all of the time. It would +be great fun to live that way.” She was very sober +now. “I think that I want noises and lots of things +going on. Am I very strange, Hennie?”</p> + +<p>“No indeed, all young people are that way,” declared +Mrs. Henderson with emphasis. “I felt so myself, +once. Of course, it is lonely for you in this big house +with only Serena. Your father is home for so short a +time each day.”</p> + +<p>“Please don’t misunderstand me, I am not very +lonely–only a little bit. If something interesting–something +exciting and wildly adventurous–would +happen, Hennie, it would be fine.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson smiled. “I am afraid that I can’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4'></a>4</span> +help you in such ways, dear, but I have something here +which I am very sure that you will dearly love.” She +drew forth a small parcel from her bag.</p> + +<p>Virginia waited in pleased expectation. “I am going +to adore it,” she cried joyously, as, accepting the +package, she prolonged anticipation by inspecting it +curiously, “because you gave it to me.”</p> + +<p>“You will care for it for other reasons,” replied +the older woman soberly.</p> + +<p>Within the wrappings, the girl found a little volume, +the cover of which was much worn.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be misled by appearances,” Mrs. Henderson +suggested as Virginia opened the book.</p> + +<p>Upon the fly leaf, written in ink faded with age, was +the name, Elinor Clark. The girl’s eyes opened wide +in wonder and suppressed delight. “It was my +mother’s book, Hennie?” she asked gently.</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear, it was a girlhood possession of your +mother. During her last illness she gave it to me and +asked me to see that you got it on your eighteenth +birthday. She explained that she didn’t want to +trouble your father, yet she wanted you to have it. +It was the last request Elinor ever made of me.” Mrs. +Henderson’s eyes winked suspiciously and leaning forward +she peered at the worn cover. When she spoke +her voice was husky with emotion. “It’s a gift that +you will always cherish, dear.”</p> + +<p>A great tenderness swept over Virginia’s face. +“It’s my mother’s birthday present to me, isn’t it, Hennie?”–she +almost whispered–“the only one that +I can remember.”</p> + +<p>As the older woman bowed her agreement, she moved +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span> +over upon the couch by the girl and for a time they +were silent.</p> + +<p>Virginia was the first to speak. “Tell me about +my mother, please,” she said softly, her hand caressing +the cover of the book. “It makes Daddy sad if +I talk to him too much about her so I never do. +But Hennie, I should like to know more of her if I +could.”</p> + +<p>“Bless your heart, I will gladly tell you everything +I can, dear.” She was thoughtful for a moment and +then resumed, “Your mother was three years older +than you are now when I first met her.”</p> + +<p>“And married,” cried the girl in surprise, “I never +thought of my mother as so young. I pictured her as +much older.”</p> + +<p>“Old, nonsense! Your mother was my age. She +was hardly grown at the time of her death.”</p> + +<p>“Where did my father meet her? I know that she +lived down South. Serena is always talking about the +old home.”</p> + +<p>“He met her here in South Ridgefield. He had come +here from New England and started his mill. It was +small in those days, but prosperous. Social affairs had +little attraction for your father. That made him very +interesting to us girls. I suppose too we did not forget +that he was making lots of money and could give +the girl of his choice everything she desired. He had +been here four or five years when the marriage took +place. Its announcement caused much excitement +among us young people. We had given your father +up as a hopeless old bachelor. Think of it, in a week, +your mother snatched the best catch from under the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span> +noses of the South Ridgefield girls.” Mrs. Henderson +laughed gaily. “Elinor did that very thing.”</p> + +<p>“My mother must have been very beautiful?”</p> + +<p>“She was, every one admitted that, but she had the +advantage in another way. She came from Virginia +after her father’s death to settle some business affairs +with your father.” Again Mrs. Henderson laughed. +“The girls used to say that he took Elinor in full settlement +of all indebtedness. After the marriage he +built this house and you were born,” she pointed upwards, +“in that big corner room on the second floor.”</p> + +<p>“Please go on, Hennie,” begged the girl, after a +pause in which the older woman’s thoughts wandered +in the past.</p> + +<p>“I was thinking of the good times I’ve had in this +house. Your mother used to give delightful dances.”</p> + +<p>“Dances, <i>here</i>!” Virginia’s astonishment was evident.</p> + +<p>“Certainly, I have danced here many times until +three o’clock in the morning and thought nothing of +it.”</p> + +<p>“You danced, too?” It was as if the girl were +shocked.</p> + +<p>“Of course I danced. Do you think I was a wall +flower who could lure no partners to myself?” Mrs. +Henderson demanded with spirit. “Remember, I +had been married only a year. There were grand dinners, +too.” She went on more calmly. “How we enjoyed +Serena’s cooking and afterwards many is the +gay crowd this porch sheltered in those days.”</p> + +<p>“It is hard to imagine, Hennie.” The girl shook +her head soberly. “Daddy and I are so quiet. We sit +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span> +here in the evenings and I talk until he falls asleep. +Then I watch the fire-flies until he wakes up and we +go to bed. The thought of him dancing is very +strange.”</p> + +<p>There was a note of pity in Mrs. Henderson’s voice +when she spoke, “To be sure it is, dear. I never said +that your father danced. He seemed to enjoy having +people here. It was your mother, though, who loved +that sort of thing and her word was law to him in +everything. She depended on Hezekiah Wilkins to set +the pace by wielding a rhythmic toe, as he used to call +it.” A smile of gay memories died in her eyes at more +solemn thoughts. “Those good times lasted only a +couple of years. Your mother was taken ill and +then–” she paused and continued softly, “–one afternoon +she went away from the room upstairs and +left you, dear,” her voice caught, “to Serena and me.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson’s arm went about the girl but in a +moment she resumed, “After the death of your mother +your father devoted himself to money making again. +It took all of his time.” There was a flash of anger in +her eye. “He has succeeded very well in that.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson arose hastily. “Dear me, child, I +am staying too long. You should go to some of these +youthful affairs about town. I imagine that the boys +and girls of South Ridgefield have some very good +times.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s eyes lighted with interest but in a moment +it had gone, replaced by a thoughtful little smile. +“Daddy would be lonely without me. I ought not to +leave him alone in the evening.”</p> + +<p>Again the angry glint came in Mrs. Henderson’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span> +eyes, but she controlled herself and said quietly, “You +are the best judge of that, dear. But now that you +have finished school you should have something to occupy +your time. I know that Serena would have you +play great lady, but, with due respect to her ideas, you +will find it a lonely game in these busy days. Why +don’t you give some of your time to helping those not +so fortunate as you? Think it over, child,” she urged +as she left.</p> + +<p>After her caller had departed Virginia returned to +the couch and with intense interest gave herself up +to the examination of the book which had been her +mother’s.</p> + +<p>A negress of uncertain age appeared in the doorway +of the house. Her hair was streaked with grey and +she was enormously fat. She wore a calico dress over +the front of which stretched a snowy white apron, its +strings lost in a crease of flesh at the waist line. +Bound about her head was a white handkerchief and +her sleeves were rolled to her elbows.</p> + +<p>She moved about the porch replacing the wicker furniture. +Stopping by the couch she rearranged some +magazines, and then, “Honey chil’, ain’ you gwine +git dressed? De clock done struck fo’.”</p> + +<p>“In a minute.”</p> + +<p>Serena’s eyes wandered to the side lawn. Instantly +her attention was riveted upon certain objects protruding +from some shrubbery. They were conspicuous and +unusual as lawn decorations, bulking large beside a recumbent +lawn mower, a rake and grass shears.</p> + +<p>“You Ike,” she shouted. The objects moved convulsively. +“Wot you mean a sleepin’ under dat +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span> +bush?” The commotion in the shrubbery ceased and +the objects reappeared in their normal position as the +feet of a sleepy-eyed negro youth.</p> + +<p>“Ah ain’ a sleepin’ none, Miss Sereny, ah was a +layin’ under dat bush a ca’culatin’ whar ah gwine to +trim it.”</p> + +<p>“You got a po’ haid fo’ figgers den. You computen +all dis yere afternoon, ah guesses. Ma eye is on you, +boy. Go change you’ clothes an’ git dat ca’ah down to +de office a fo’ you is late.”</p> + +<p>Ike gathered the tools and disappeared in haste.</p> + +<p>Serena turned again to the girl, who had displayed +but slight interest in the sleeping laborer. “It gittin’ +mighty late, chil’.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know, Serena.”</p> + +<p>“You bettah dress you’se’f.”</p> + +<p>“Please, only a little longer.”</p> + +<p>“You gwine be fo’ced to be mighty spry den,” +warned the old negress as she waddled into the house.</p> + +<p>“Oh, how wonderful,” breathed the girl, a great joy +suddenly showing in her face. “It’s for me–from +mother. Really.”</p> + +<p>The worn volume lay open in her lap. It contained +selections from the works of many poets. Upon the +page before her these lines, taken from Coleridge’s, +“The Ancient Mariner,” were printed,</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“He prayeth best who loveth best</p> +<p>All things both great and small:</p> +<p>For the dear God who loveth us,</p> +<p>He made and loveth all.”</p> +</div> + +<p>They were heavily underlined. In the broad +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span> +margin was written in a tremulous hand which displayed +the effects of illness,</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“My darling little daughter–</p> +<p>–live these lines. <span class='sc'>Elinor Dale.</span>”</p> +</div> + +<p>A vast tenderness enfolded the girl. She reread the +lines. “My mother is telling me how to live,” she +whispered. “Her voice is calling to me through all +the years–the only time.” She touched her lips impulsively +to the place where the cherished hand had +rested and then, clasping the book to her breast, she +closed her eyes and remained so for awhile. When her +lids raised anew, the blue eyes were filled with a great +yearning as she breathed softly and reverently as if in +prayer, “Yes, mother.”</p> + +<p>A little later, Virginia entered the house and Serena +told her, “Ah done lay out yo’all’s clothes, honey chil’. +Ef you want anythin’ else jes yell.”</p> + +<p>The girl dreamily climbed the broad staircase. At +the bend she remembered something, and, turning back, +smiled down at the old colored woman below. “Thank +you, Serena,” she called.</p> + +<p>Amply rewarded, the faithful servant contentedly +busied herself once more with the affairs of the Dale +household. From that far away day when she had, +“’cided ah gwine foller Miss Elinor to de no’th,” she +had been recognized by well informed persons as one in +authority in that home.</p> + +<p>It was Serena who first held Virginia in her arms +and tenderly rocked the squirming red mite across her +ample bosom. During those long days and nights of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span> +watching in the last illness of Elinor Dale, it was Serena +who, with undisguised distrust of the trained nurse, +was in and out of the sick room almost every hour. It +was Serena who closed Elinor Dale’s eyes, and it was +Serena who held the motherless child with great tears +rolling down her black face as she stood by the open +grave.</p> + +<p>No formal agreement held Serena after the death of +her mistress. She saw the home as a storm tossed +craft, from whose deck the navigator had been swept, +drifting aimlessly upon the sea of domesticity. Unhesitatingly, +she had assumed the vacant command +which carried with it the mothering of Virginia.</p> + +<p>In the early months of his bereavement, Obadiah +Dale gave some attention to the establishment which +he had created for his wife’s enjoyment. Yet all +things followed a well managed routine and, more important +than all to a man of his nature, the monthly +bills evidenced economical judgment. Quick to recognize +a valuable subordinate, Obadiah saw no necessity +for immediate change.</p> + +<p>Serena had excellent ideas in child training. Although +in her mind Virginia was a young lady of position +who could properly demand appropriate attention, +yet must she learn to meet the responsibilities of her +station.</p> + +<p>Obadiah was assured that his daughter in Serena’s +charge was in the care of one who loved her. From +time to time he made vague plans for the child’s future. +As they were to commence at an indefinite time +they never materialized. More and more the business +activities of the manufacturer occupied his time, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +slowly but surely the duty of Virginia’s upbringing +was shifted to the negro woman.</p> + +<p>When Virginia was five, Serena told her employer, +“Dis yere chil’ orter be in school a learnin’ mo’ an’ +ah kin teach her,” and so the mill owner’s daughter +was started upon her scholastic career at a kindergarten.</p> + +<p>Obadiah never knew the worries of this illiterate +negro woman in planning suitable clothing for his +child. No man could appreciate that watchful eye +ever ready to copy styles and materials from the garments +of children of families deemed worthy as models.</p> + +<p>Virginia’s education was continued under the guidance +of a Miss Keen who conducted a select school for +young ladies in South Ridgefield. This institution, +highly esteemed as a seat of learning by Serena, offered +courses usually terminating when pupils refused +longer to attend the establishment. In its most prosperous +years its enrollment never exceeded twenty misguided +maidens.</p> + +<p>Now, Virginia had arrived at the age of eighteen, +a serious, rather shy girl, whose youth had been spent +under the supervision of an old negro woman, narrowed +by the influence of a small school and neglected +by a busy father.</p> + +<p>When Obadiah came home that night for dinner, +she met him in the hall. He was a very tall man and +extremely thin. His sharp features gave a shrewd expression +and his smooth shaven face displayed a cruel +mouth and an obstinate jaw.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Daddy dear,” cried the girl as she held up +her mouth to be kissed. She gave a happy little laugh +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span> +when he pinched her cheek, and demanded of him, +“What day is this?”</p> + +<p>“Tuesday,” he answered indifferently, “the tenth +of June.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t you think of anything else?”</p> + +<p>He looked puzzled. “It’s not a holiday, is it?”</p> + +<p>“No, but it’s my birthday, Daddy dear.”</p> + +<p>He displayed some interest now. “Is that so? +How old are you today?”</p> + +<p>“I am eighteen,” she explained proudly. “Serena +made me a cake with candles. She brought it in at +lunch. She said it might bother you, tonight.” +She looked up at him quickly. “Do you love me, +Daddy?”</p> + +<p>“Surely,” he answered absently and shaking his +iron grey head he ascended the stairs to prepare for +dinner, muttering, “Time flies–how time flies.”</p> + +<p>He joined his daughter again in the dining room in +response to the gong. Serena had planned the meal +with due regard to the fact that the day had been +warm. A lobster, magnificent in its gorgeousness, +reposed upon a bed of lettuce on the platter before +Obadiah. A potato salad flanked it and a dish of +sliced tomatoes reflected the color scheme of the crustacean. +Dainty rolls, Serena’s pride, peeped from the +folds of a napkin and the ice clinked refreshingly in +the tall tumblers of tea as they were stirred.</p> + +<p>Sometimes Virginia and her father chatted, but there +were long silences. At intervals, Serena, noiselessly in +spite of her weight, appeared to replenish or change a +dish and to see that all things were in order.</p> + +<p>As they waited for the table to be cleared for dessert, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span> +the girl said wistfully, “I wish that I could help somebody, +Daddy.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her curiously. “What ever put that +into your head? You are a help to me sitting there +and smiling at me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but that’s not much. To sit at a table and +smile and eat good things only helps oneself.”</p> + +<p>“Well, why should you want to help anybody but you +and me?”</p> + +<p>She gazed at him thoughtfully. “Don’t joke, +Daddy. I know I would be happier if I could do something +for some one.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah chuckled. “Where did you get that idea? +I am perfectly happy tonight, and I haven’t bothered +myself about other people.”</p> + +<p>“The very idea. All this livelong day you have +been planning for those who work in your mill.”</p> + +<p>A sudden light came to him, he chuckled again. +“Surely, I look after my employees or they would +look after me.”</p> + +<p>“That makes you happy.” Virginia was certain that +she had made her point.</p> + +<p>“No,” Obadiah shook his head vigorously, “my +employees make me angry more than they make me +happy. My happiness is the result of my own efforts.”</p> + +<p>“That is what I mean, Daddy. You have had such +great opportunities to make yourself happy.” She +viewed him with eyes of fond admiration. “You have +accomplished so much.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah was filled with a comfortable egotism. “I +have accomplished a whole lot,” he boasted. His mind +was upon his commercial success and the wealth he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +had accumulated. “I’m not through,” he bragged. +He became thoughtful as he dwelt upon certain fertile +fields awaiting his financial plough. His jaw set. +He had rivals who would contest his tillage. He +would fight as he had always fought. His eyes glistened +beneath his shaggy brows as he sensed the fray.</p> + +<p>The conversation languished as they ate their dessert, +but Obadiah’s pride of accomplishment had not departed. +“I am going to do bigger things than ever +before,” he exulted. “When you are older you will +realize what I have done for you,” he explained as +they went out on the porch.</p> + +<p>For a time the girl and the old man followed their +own thoughts while the fire-flies sparkled and gleamed +about the lawn as if they were the flashlights of a +fairy patrol. Emma Virginia was thinking of her +father’s words. He was going to do more for her. +She must certainly share her blessings.</p> + +<p>“Daddy dear, do you mind if I help some one?” she +asked gently.</p> + +<p>“Back on that?” he demanded with a note of sharpness.</p> + +<p>She gave an emphatic little nod. “It is very important. +I–I–can’t tell you now, why,” she hesitated. +“I should feel much better, though.”</p> + +<p>“You are not sick, are you?” Obadiah worried.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no indeed, perfectly well. Only, I am sure +that I would be much happier if I could do something +for someone else. I don’t know whom. That doesn’t +make any difference.”</p> + +<p>“What a strange idea!” It seemed to bother +Obadiah. “You want to help someone but you don’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +know whom.” He considered a moment. “Here’s +my advice. Help somebody who can help you.”</p> + +<p>“Now you are teasing me, Daddy?” she protested. +“I am really serious about this. I want to be of more +use in the world.” Her voice was very soft and gentle +now. “I know that I should share my blessings and +I want to do it. It is such a comfort to talk things +over with you, Daddy dearest.” She moved quietly +over to him and seated herself upon his lap.</p> + +<p>As she touched him, he jumped. “Gracious, you +startled me so, Virginia. I was asleep.”</p> + +<p>“Please, Daddy, don’t mind,” she whispered, “I’ll +be quiet as a mouse.”</p> + +<p>Almost grudgingly, he let her settle herself and +drop her head against his shoulder. In a moment his +head slipped down against the soft hair of the girl and +Obadiah dozed anew.</p> + +<p>She murmured softly, “It was so easy to explain to +you. Serena wouldn’t understand, I am afraid. All of +your life, Daddy, you have been helping other people.”</p> + +<p>“Whom?” asked Obadiah in alarm, starting up +and shaking the girl’s head from his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Daddy, wake up. You were asleep while I was +talking to you.” She tried to kiss him as he rubbed +his eyes, but his arms were in her way. “You are such +a comfort, Daddy. I wish I could be like you,” she +said softly.</p> + +<p>“You can try,” conceded Obadiah immodestly. +“You are keeping me up. I am tired. I want to go +to bed. My legs are asleep from your sitting on them,” +he complained and then told her shortly, “The place +for you to dream is in bed, not on my lap.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span><a id='link_2'></a>CHAPTER II<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE MISSION BEGUN</span></h2> + +<p>Obadiah Dale’s car was waiting at his home. It +stood upon the gravel driveway opposite the steps at +the end of the porch. Virginia was seated in the rear +seat and her eyes rested seriously upon Serena, who +from the higher floor of the porch, viewed Ike, lounging +by the car, as from a rostrum.</p> + +<p>The young negro was attired in a neat livery which +gave him a natty aspect distinctly absent when his +siesta was disturbed by Serena. Regardless of his +more attractive guise, however, he shifted nervously +under her stern gaze. He, who ever bore himself, in +hours of leisure, before the black population of South +Ridgefield as one of imperial blood, was abashed before +her. That poise, that coolness of demeanor, that almost +insolent manner exhibited at crap games, chicken +fights or those social functions where the gentler sex +predominates, was absent now. Before Serena, his +lofty soul became as a worm, desirous of burying itself +from the pitiless light of publicity.</p> + +<p>“You Ike,” she said with great severity, “mine +wot ah say. Stop you’ fas’ drivin’. Miss Virginy +ain’ wantin’ to go shootin’ aroun’ dis yere town lak +er circus lady in er cha’iot race.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span>The girl displayed interest in the remark, but remained +silent.</p> + +<p>Ike climbed into the car and sought support from +the steering wheel. In a gentle manner, as if desirous +of averting wrath, he made answer, “Ah ain’ +no speeder, Miss Sereny. Ah is de carefulest chauffah +in dis town. Ah sez, ‘Safety fust.’ Dat’s ma +motta.” At the sound of his own voice he gained in +assurance. He had acquired these statements by heart +from frequent repetition.</p> + +<p>“Wat you down in dat co’t fo’, den?” inquired Serena. +“Mr. Dale he done say, he gittin’ tired er payin’ +fines fo’ yo’all. He say de nex’ time he gwine ax de +jedge to let you rot in dat calaboose.”</p> + +<p>Ike listened to this promise of extended incarceration +with the casual interest due an oft repeated tale. +Disregarding it, he continued, “Ah goes to co’t ’count +o’ de inexpe’ienced drivers.” He spoke as an expert. +“Ef dey had ’spe’ienced drivers dey ain’ gwine be +no trouble a tall.”</p> + +<p>“Dey bettah be no mo’ trouble,” snapped Serena, +“les yo’all gits in worse. G’wan now ’bout you’ business. +Take Miss Virginy down to de sto’ an’ den out +on de river road. You gotta git back in time +to bring her pa home fo’ lunch.” The solution of a +difficult problem dawned upon her and instantly she +returned to her former argument. “Don’ you drive +dat caah no fas’er den er hoss an’ er ker’idge kin go,” +she commanded.</p> + +<p>It is of record that even a worm upon extreme irritation +will fall upon its tormentor. Thus Ike reacted +to this notable example of feminine ignorance. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +“How’s ah gwine mek dis yere high powah caah run +dat slow? Ah ast you dat? How’s ah gwine do +it?”</p> + +<p>Apparently heedless of this incipient rebellion, Serena +gave her attention to her young mistress, “Good +bye, honey chil’,” she worried. “Don’ you mek +youse’f sick on sody an’ ice cream.”</p> + +<p>Virginia smiled sweetly at the now beaming black +face of the negro woman. “I’ll be very careful,” +she promised.</p> + +<p>Serena devoted herself again to her minion. “You +Ike, go slow. Go mighty cafful. Dat’s wot ah say.”</p> + +<p>He looked askance at her. Every vestige of humor +had departed from the black face replaced by a cold, +implacable glare. Without a word, he started the +machine and it glided down the drive.</p> + +<p>Her purchases completed, Virginia sat musing upon +the message from her mother as the big car hummed +softly towards the quiet beauty of the river road. +Vague plans, indefinite as dreams, floated through her +mind.</p> + +<p>Ike was obeying Serena’s wishes so faithfully that +the absence of excitement, so essential to the display +of what he considered his best talents, was almost lulling +him to sleep.</p> + +<p>A large bill board fenced the front of a vacant lot, +on their way. A magnificent example of the lithographer’s +art, as adapted to the advertising needs of a +minstrel show, was posted upon it. It’s coloring, +chiefly red, was effective and forceful and displayed an +extravagant disregard of the high cost of ink. It portrayed +the triumphant passage of the Jubilee Minstrels. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span> +The brilliant uniforms, the martial air of the musicians +as well as the exceeding pleasure with which this +aggregation appeared to be welcomed by the reviewing +public, was of a character to please, to impress, yes, +even to stun all beholders, except the blind.</p> + +<p>This picture caught the soul of Ike as he came within +the scope of its influence. To him, applause and admiration +were as strong drink. Envy knocked at his +heart as he beheld the bright raiment. He visualized +himself, thus dazzlingly attired, exhibited to his admiring +fellow townsmen. Violating speed laws was infantile +piffle to this. A syncopated melody, appropriate +to a victorious march, blared in memory’s ear. +He hummed it softly. His body twitched to the +rhythm and his feet took up the cadence. He pressed +a pedal and the powerful car accelerated its motion +well above the modest limits commanded by Serena. +To the shell of Ike, the increased speed was but a return +to normal. His spirit was away. Expanding +as a morning-glory to the sun, it paraded, in wondrous +garments, to martial music, before gaping thousands.</p> + +<p>A turn in their way was before them. Ike partially +roused himself from his sweet dreams and automatically +attended to the necessities of the moment. +These included no slackening of speed.</p> + +<p>The car swung a corner and instantly thereafter +there came a mighty groaning of brakes as it was +finally stopped in the midst of what had been an orderly +procession of small negro children. The startling +arrival of the big machine had scattered them, +with shrill cries and screams, in every direction.</p> + +<p>Virginia was alarmed at the sudden halt and at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +frightened outcries of the youngsters. She leaped +out. On the curb an excited colored woman was holding +a weeping black boy by the hand. He was very +small and, because of a deformed leg, used a crutch. +Between efforts to reassemble her scattered charges, +she endeavored to calm and comfort him.</p> + +<p>Hurrying to the woman, Virginia cried, “I’m so +sorry.”</p> + +<p>“Much good sorry gwine do after you kill somebody,” +shouted the woman, much angered by the occurrence. +“Ain’ you got no bettah sense ’en to run +down a lot o’ chillun?”</p> + +<p>“It would have been terrible if we had hurt one +of them. I never would have forgiven myself. We +couldn’t see them until we turned the corner.” In +her excitement she sought friendly support. “Could +we, Ike?”</p> + +<p>To Ike, it was a duty from which much pleasure +could be derived to take part in any controversy. +Likewise, one acquires merit, when one is a chauffeur, +by strongly maintaining the contention of one’s mistress–she +may reciprocate in a difficult hour. Ike +turned an unfriendly countenance upon the woman, +and asked for information, “How ah gwine see ’roun’ +er corner? Does you ’spect dat ma eyes is twisted?”</p> + +<p>“Go long, man. Mine you’ own business.”</p> + +<p>Not thus summarily was Ike to be dismissed. +“Dese yere chillun ain’ no call to be in de street. +Howcum ’em der? Ain’ it yo’all’s business to keep ’em +outen de way?” A uniformity in costume struck him. +“Ain’ dey orphant chillun runnin’ loose?”</p> + +<p>“Orphans! The poor things!” Virginia cried.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span>“Wot ef dey is orphants?” the woman protested +with great belligerence.</p> + +<p>“Den,” Ike behaved as if he, a public spirited citizen, +had discovered the warden of a penitentiary seeking +pleasure beyond the walls with notorious criminals, +“howcum dey heah? Wharfo?”</p> + +<p>The suspicion and force in the chauffeur’s manner +brought fresh tears to orphan eyes.</p> + +<p>Encouraged by these evidences of public attention, +Ike continued his investigation. “Ah axes you woman, +why ain’ dey in de ’sylum whar dey ’long?”</p> + +<p>The chauffeur’s words had not soothed the guardian +of the children. She showed unmistakable signs +of increasing wrath. Glaring fixedly at him, she +blazed, “Mine you’ own business, you black po’cupine.”</p> + +<p>Although the application of the epithet was obscure, +its effect was all that could be desired. Ike suffered a +species of fit. His mouth opened and closed without +sound. His wildly rolling eyes exposed wide areas +of white and then glued themselves in invenomed hatred +upon the woman. Muscles contracted and worked +in his neck. Even as a panther, he appeared about to +spring upon his foe.</p> + +<p>Virginia interfered. Her experience of life was +limited, but she understood the negro. “Don’t get +out of the car, Ike,” she ordered.</p> + +<p>“Ef dat spindle legged dude git outen dat caah, ah +is boun’ to bus’ his haid wid ma fist,” predicted the +woman.</p> + +<p>Virginia feared no blood shed but deemed it +desirable to take steps to avoid an argument certain to +be loud and long and to add nothing to her dignity as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +a bystander. She answered Ike’s inquiries herself. +“The children were out walking, I suppose, and had +to cross the street?”</p> + +<p>This overture slightly mollified the woman but she +yet viewed the porcupine with distinct hostility.</p> + +<p>“Are all of these poor children orphans?” continued +Virginia, shaking her head at the pity of it.</p> + +<p>“Yas’m, dey’s all orphants f’om the Lincoln Home, +up de street.”</p> + +<p>“And you had them out for their daily walk?”</p> + +<p>“No, mam, dey gits out onest er week. Ah ain’ +got no time to take ’em out every day.”</p> + +<p>Virginia looked at the woman very thoughtfully. +“Your work makes you very happy, doesn’t it?” she +asked.</p> + +<p>“Ah ain’ heard o’ no kind er wo’k mekin’ nobody +happy. Ah jes allers was, an’ allers is happy. Dat’s +me,” the woman explained.</p> + +<p>“Why, you are a mother to all of those children.”</p> + +<p>“Yas’m, de onlies’ mother dey gwine git, ah guesses.” +The woman viewed her reassembled charges speculatively. +She patted the little cripple at her side. “Po’ +li’l Willie, he cain’t walk ve’y fas’, kin you, sweetheart?”</p> + +<p>“You poor little fellow,” sighed Virginia.</p> + +<p>“Ah bettah tote you, Willie. We gotta move right +smart afo’ noon an’ you ain’ ve’y spry on dat crutch.” +Picking up the lame boy, the woman began to issue instructions +for the advance of her forces.</p> + +<p>Virginia surveyed the manoeuvering orphans comprehensively. +“If I could get them all into the car +I would take them for a ride,” she exclaimed, and then, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span> +“They can be crowded in, I believe. May they go?”</p> + +<p>The woman regarded the girl in great astonishment. +“Cou’se dey kin go eff yo’all wants ’em.” Her conscience +appeared to demand a further warning. “Dey +is er powe’ful mouthy and mischievous lot o’ rascallions.”</p> + +<p>Ike was disgusted. To be required to act as chauffeur +for a crowd of screaming infants of his own +race was another wound to that dignity so recently +and fearfully lacerated. He submitted protest. “Dis +yere caah ain’ gwine hol’ all dem chillun. It ain’ no +dray. Dey gwine bus’ de springs smack bang offen +it.”</p> + +<p>“If the car breaks down you can have them fix it +at the garage, Ike. They always have been able to +mend it,” Virginia told him with great complacency +as she proceeded with her plans.</p> + +<p>“Ef all de chillun stan’ close, ’ceptin fo’ or five +wid li’l Willie an’ me on de back seat, dey is plenty +room,” the orphan’s guardian indicated, greatly pleased +at the prospect of the ride.</p> + +<p>The sullen fire of eternal hatred burned in the eye +which Ike turned upon her. He fired his last shot. +“Miss Virginy, you’ Daddy ain’ want all des yere +chillun in dis caah. He mighty biggoty about whoall +ride in it. Ah ’spects dey is gwine dirty it up sumpin +fierce.”</p> + +<p>“Who yo’all call dirty?” demanded the woman; but +Virginia made peace by an emphatic “Hush,” as the +colored orphans were packed into the back of the +machine. With their attendant they filled the entire +space.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span>The car moved away as soon as Virginia had taken +her seat by the irritated Ike. They left the town and +sped along country roads. The little negroes, awed +by their new surroundings, became noisy with familiarity +and expressed their joy by screaming.</p> + +<p>The young hostess of this strange party was at first +uncomfortable and embarrassed at the clamor of her +small guests, but as she awakened to the enjoyment +she was giving the orphans she forgot herself in their +pleasure.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful ride along the river shore, through +the woods, and then back between great fields of growing +grain the surfaces of which were broken into moving +waves of green at the touch of the summer breeze.</p> + +<p>They reentered the town a few minutes before noon +and were almost back to the turn towards the Orphans’ +Home, when far down the street they caught the glitter +of brass and the glow of red. “Er ban’, er ban’,” +screamed the little negroes.</p> + +<p>The enticing strains of melody called to Ike across +the intervening blocks. There was a look of deep +guile in his face, which became regret, as he suggested +to Virginia, “Des po’ orphants ain’ no chans to heah +fine ban’ music. Ah might circle aroun’ dat minst’el +ban’ an’ let de chillun lis’en fo’ er spell.”</p> + +<p>As Virginia nodded assent, the car shot away, +straight down the street. In a few moments they had +overtaken the marching musicians, the reality of the +poster which had charmed Ike. From them burst +melody which coursed through his veins. As he +drifted away on a sea of syncopated bliss, the car, subconsciously +driven, closed upon the marching +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span> +minstrels. In the midst of a delegation of youth, honoring +the snare and bass drummers, it rolled. Bearing +Virginia and her guests behind the pageant and as an +apparent part thereof, it proceeded towards the center +of the city.</p> + +<p>The negro children were clamorous with delight at +the wonderful concentration of humanity, noise, and +excitement. Their screams vied with the band and +their guardian on the rear seat assumed a careless dignity.</p> + +<p>Virginia’s mind was occupied with the infants. To +her, the onlookers, more numerous as they neared the +business part of town, were the background of a picture. +She was utterly unconscious that the load of +pickaninnies formed a most appropriate part of the +spectacle.</p> + +<p>Laughter pealed from the increasing crowds at the +nonsensical behavior of the orphans. In the center of +town, prominent business men were away from their +offices for luncheon. They gazed indifferently at the +marching band, but as the machine approached, they +recognized its monogram, and, attracting the attention +of companions, they burst into shouts of laughter. +Here was the car of wealthy Obadiah Dale, packed with +negro children, chaperoned by his daughter, taking +part in a minstrel parade.</p> + +<p>Suddenly upon the sidewalk near the curb, Virginia +espied her father. Regardless of her surroundings, the +girl endeavored to attract his attention by waving her +hand. The pickaninnies joined with shouts, considering +it a pleasant game.</p> + +<p>Plunged in thought and heedless of the band, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span> +increased clamor aroused Obadiah. Incredulity and +amazement, at the sight of his daughter and her company, +held him. An acquaintance approached, spoke +and laughed. Anger flushed the mill owner as he +marked the staring eyes fixed in unveiled amusement +on himself and his daughter.</p> + +<p>“Daddy is over there,–there.” She indicated the +place to Ike, delight in her discovery accenting her cry.</p> + +<p>The chauffeur, thus rudely torn from his musical +reverie, solaced his disturbed harmoniousness, by smiting +the ears of the crowd and wrecking the sweet tones +of the band, by a discordant honk. Thus soothed, he +attempted to turn towards the sidewalk, but the congested +traffic blocked him and he had to delay a few +moments before he could swing the car over to the +curb.</p> + +<p>Obadiah came up. He glared at the assembled orphans +with manifest disapproval and gave gruff tongue +to his astonishment. “What does this mean? I +don’t understand it,” he snarled at Virginia.</p> + +<p>In the depths of her big blue eyes lay tenderness as +she anxiously searched his cold grey ones for some +sign of sympathetic appreciation. “Daddy, dear”–there +was a note of pride in her manner–“these are +orphans from the Lincoln Home. I have had them +out riding all morning.”</p> + +<p>The pickaninnies acknowledged the introduction +with screams.</p> + +<p>This attention added fuel to Obadiah’s irritation, +“How are you going to get rid of this bunch?” he +asked loudly, giving no heed to the listening ears of +guests. “I want to go home and get my lunch.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span>The girl wrinkled her nose in thoughtful consideration +of the social dilemma she faced. The truly resourceful +are never long at a loss. “You get in here, +Daddy,” she urged, “you can hold me on your lap +and we will run over to the Orphans’ Home. We can +leave the children there and go straight home.”</p> + +<p>“The idea!” snapped Obadiah, “I won’t be made +more ridiculous than I have been, today. You must +learn to give thought to others, Virginia.”</p> + +<p>Instantly, her happiness faded before his words. +“I am so sorry. I forgot how time was passing and +I didn’t mean to get in this big crowd. How will +you get home? What can I do for you, Daddy?”</p> + +<p>Once more he realized that amused faces watched +him as he interviewed his daughter, a lily in a bed of +black tulips. “Get out of this crowd. Everybody is +laughing at me. I’ll get home some way,” he declared +peevishly. “You get rid of that outfit as soon +as you can,” he called, as he moved away, apparently +in a hurry to escape the orphans’ company. “I’ll see +you at home.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span><a id='link_3'></a>CHAPTER III<br /><span class='h2fs'>UNGIVEN ADVICE</span></h2> + +<p>Obadiah Dale’s office was in a modern building. +He considered it the finest in South Ridgefield, but +then–Obadiah owned it. The proximity of an army +of employees disturbed him. So he had gathered his +principal assistants about him, away from the mill, in +this more peaceful environment.</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s personal suite contained three rooms. +His private lair was in the corner. Its windows overlooked +metal cornices, tin roofs and smoke stacks. +The view should have afforded inspiration to sheet +metal workers, and professional atmosphere was available +at all times to such chimney sweeps as called.</p> + +<p>The personal staff consisted of Obadiah’s stenographer, +Mr. Percy Jones, who referred to himself as +the “Private Secretary” and was habitually addressed +in discourteous terms by his employer, and a bookkeeper +identified by the name Kelly.</p> + +<p>Across the hall was the sanctum of Hezekiah Wilkins, +general attorney for the Dale interests. The +other executive officers of the organization occupied +the rest of the floor.</p> + +<p>Certain preparatory sounds evidencing to the discriminating +ear of youth the probability of a band +bursting into melody had reached Mr. Jones. Rising +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span> +hurriedly from his desk in the center of the middle +room of Obadiah’s suite, he had gone to a window, +and peering down, discovered that the Jubilee Minstrels +were about to favor South Ridgefield with a +parade.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones watched the preparations with interest. +He was a dapper little fellow with thin, dark hair, +who sported a very small mustache with a very great +deal of pride. As much of a dandy as his small salary +would permit, he had indefinite social aspirations, and +rather considered himself a man of much natural culture +and refinement.</p> + +<p>His curiosity satisfied, he turned to a door, opposite +to the one which insured privacy to Obadiah, and entered +the domain of Kelly. The bookkeeper was +perched upon a high stool before an equally elevated +desk burdened with the mill owner’s ledgers. He was +red headed, big and raw boned, clearly designed by +nature for the heaviest of manual labor but by a joke +of fate set to wielding a pen.</p> + +<p>“Hi, Kelly,–minstrels,” thus Mr. Jones advertised +the forthcoming pageant as he lighted a cigarette.</p> + +<p>The upper part of Kelly’s person was brilliantly +illuminated by the reflected light of a globe hanging +an inch above his head. “Where?” he asked, blinking +about from his area of high illumination into the +shadows of the room as though looking for callers.</p> + +<p>“In the street, you chump. They are going to +parade. As soon as the old man goes, we’ll hustle out +and look ’em over.”</p> + +<p>A movement in the corner room sent Mr. Jones +scurrying to his desk. From the street sounded the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +staccato taps of a snare drum, rhythmically punctuated +by the boom of the bass, passing up the street. +Obadiah emerged from his room as one marching to +martial music. He broke step like a rooky to tell his +stenographer, “I’m going to lunch.”</p> + +<p>Leaping to his feet, Mr. Jones bowed profoundly as +his employer departed, his manner filled with the awe +and respect due a man of such wealth and position. +He listened intently until the elevator descended, then +he shouted, “Get a move on you, in there. He’s gone.”</p> + +<p>The bookkeeper appeared, his hat on the back of his +head and struggling into his coat.</p> + +<p>“Hurry, we can get the elevator on its next trip,” +urged the stenographer.</p> + +<p>“What’s the rush–we don’t want to run into the +old man,” the bookkeeper demurred.</p> + +<p>“We’ve got a right to eat, ain’t we? What’s the +lunch hour for?”</p> + +<p>“Say, who’s talking about not eating? I don’t want +the old man’s face as an appetizer,” protested Kelly.</p> + +<p>“Gee, he has got you bluffed. You are scared of +him.”</p> + +<p>The bookkeeper shrugged his big shoulders and +laughed. “Not on your life am I afraid of that old +spider, but I don’t like him. That’s all.”</p> + +<p>“The old man is a good enough scout when you +know how to handle him,” boasted Mr. Jones. “Tell +him where to get off once in awhile and he’ll eat out +of your hand.”</p> + +<p>“Say,” chuckled Kelly. “The next time you decide +to call him down, put me wise. I don’t want to +miss it.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span>“Quit your kidding and come on. You think that +I am shooting hot air. I’ll show you some day.”</p> + +<p>Their hasty luncheon was completed when the strains +of music heralding the return of the minstrel show +hurried them forth to the curb to procure suitable places +to watch the parade.</p> + +<p>“Kelly, look at the pickaninnies in the automobile +following the band,” exclaimed Mr. Jones, greatly interested. +“That’s something new. I never saw it +before.” Thus he confirmed originality from the +wealth of his own knowledge.</p> + +<p>“What’s the white girl doing there?” Kelly sought +information at the fountain of wisdom.</p> + +<p>The sagacious Mr. Jones was puzzled, but for an instant +only. He elucidated. “They have a white manager +and that’s his wife who won’t black up.”</p> + +<p>The explanation struck Kelly as reasonable and +for the moment it sufficed, as he gave his attention to +the passing machine. “That’s a peach of a car,” he +proclaimed, and in further commendation, “Gosh, it’s +as fine as the old man’s!”</p> + +<p>Now it was so close that Mr. Jones was enabled to +place an expert’s eyes upon it. “Why,” gasped that +specialist, astounded by the revelations of his own keen +optic, “blamed if it ain’t the old man’s car and,” he +stammered in his excitement, “I–I–It’s the old +man’s daughter–Virginia–in that minstrel parade.”</p> + +<p>In silent wonder the young men watched the passing +marvel and, turning, followed it as if expecting +further events of an extremely sensational nature.</p> + +<p>“By Jove, there’s the old man.” The eagle eye of +Mr. Jones had picked his employer unerringly from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +amidst the multitude. “He sees the car,” the stenographer +continued, as one announcing races, on distant +tracks, to interested spectators. “Wilkins is kidding +him. He’s getting sore. We’d better beat it.” Regardless +of previous fearlessness, Mr. Jones guided +his companion into the entrance of a building from +which vantage point they watched the meeting of +Obadiah and his daughter.</p> + +<p>“By crackie, he’s hot. Everybody is laughing at +him.” To prove the truth of his own assertion, Mr. +Jones threw back his head and guffawed cruelly at the +embarrassment of his employer.</p> + +<p>One o’clock found the two clerks at their desks. +Obadiah was a punctual man. Always on time himself, +he demanded it of his employees. Today, however, +minutes flew by with no sign of the manufacturer’s +return.</p> + +<p>At one thirty, Mr. Jones entered Kelly’s room to +confer in regard to this unwonted tardiness. Resting +his elbows upon the bookkeeper’s desk he projected +his head within the area of light in which his colleague +labored and submitted a sporting proposition. +“I’ll bet my hat that the old man is raising the deuce +somewhere.”</p> + +<p>Kelly inspected the illuminated face of the stenographer +with interest, as if the brilliant rays exposed +flaws which he had not previously noted. Disregarding +the wager, he replied with emphasis, “You said +a mouthful.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones displayed marked uneasiness. “I’m surprised +that he is not back. He had important matters +to attend to.” The stenographer waxed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +mysterious. “Only this morning he called me in. ‘Mr. +Jones,’ sez he, ‘I must have your invaluable assistance, +today, on a matter of great importance. I couldn’t +get along without your help. Please, don’t step out +without warning me.’”</p> + +<p>Apparently Kelly regarded the stenographer’s secret +revelations lightly. “You told him that you didn’t +have the time?” he suggested with a grin.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones attempted to frown down unseemly levity +regarding serious matters.</p> + +<p>Kelly burst into laughter. “Gee, if I wasn’t here +to keep you off the old man, he sure would suffer.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones changed the subject, before such frivolity. +“He ought to fire that feller Ike. I’ll bet he’s to +blame for the whole thing. The idea of getting a +young lady mixed up in a mess like that. He ought +to be fired.” Mr. Jones’ soul revolted at the notoriety +which had befallen his employer’s daughter. He became +thoughtful and then confidential. “That girl is +a pippin, Kelly. A regular pippin.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve said it.” The bookkeeper’s emphasis +spoke volumes.</p> + +<p>“Did you ever think about her?”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” admitted Kelly with candor, “lots of times.”</p> + +<p>“That girl lives a lonesome life in that big house +with only the colored servants and her father,” alleged +the knowing Mr. Jones. “What fun does she +ever have? The old man thinks that she is only a baby. +If she has a nurse and is taken out every day for an +airing, he imagines nothing else is necessary.”</p> + +<p>“You are talking,” quoth Kelly.</p> + +<p>“If the old man had any brains–” Mr. Jones +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span> +noted a correction–“I mean, if he was a cultured +and refined man, if he was alive–” Mr. Jones’s manner +expressed grave doubt of Obadiah’s vitality–“He +would understand that young people must enjoy +themselves once in awhile.” Poignant memories of +the mill owner’s refusal to grant certain hours off for +social purposes embittered the stenographer at this +point in his discourse. He paused. “If he had any +brains, instead of hanging around and trying to grab +every cent that isn’t locked in a burglar proof safe, the +old duffer would open up his swell house and spend +some coin. He’s got plenty of money. It sticks to +him as if his hands were magnets and his fingers suction +cups.”</p> + +<p>“I say so,” agreed Kelly, with a vigorous nod.</p> + +<p>For a moment Mr. Jones departed to assure himself +that Obadiah did not surreptitiously draw nigh. +Thus reassured, he returned and vigorously pursued +his scathing arraignment of the absent one. “If he +had red blood in his veins he’d have a heart where +that girl is concerned. Why doesn’t he ever give a +dance for her? If he wasn’t an old tight wad he’d +give several a week, have a swell dinner every night +and a theater party each time a decent show comes +to town. He’d do that thing if he wasn’t a short +sport. He ought to get a lively bunch of young people +to make his place their social headquarters and tear +things loose.”</p> + +<p>“That’s me.” Thus did the laconic Kelly record +his position.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones went on, “He should give his daughter +the opportunity to enjoy the better things of life.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span> +The stenographer drifted over to a window and fell +to musing. He gave thought to volumes of lighter +literature which had led him to believe that, in well +conducted families of wealth and position, private +secretaries often assumed the responsibilities of social +secretaries or major domos. Turning again to the +bookkeeper, he resumed, “It takes certain peculiar +qualifications to handle that sort of thing. Everybody +knows that the old man couldn’t do it. He ought +to come out like a man and admit that he has no conception +of that bigger social life which plays such an +important part in the world today. Then–” Mr. +Jones spoke with great meaning–“there are those +who understand such matters and could relieve him +of all responsibilities except–” Mr. Jones snapped his +fingers as though it was a bagatelle–“signing the +checks.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span><a id='link_4'></a>CHAPTER IV<br /><span class='h2fs'>THOSE DARKIES AGAIN</span></h2> + +<p>After Obadiah, highly indignant at the presence of +the black orphans, had departed, his car moved slowly +up the street. It stopped at the corner for the policeman’s +signal. At the edge of the sidewalk stood a +newsboy eating an ice cream cone with great enjoyment. +The shouts of the pickaninnies were stilled at +the pleasing spectacle of a fellow man partaking of +food. Every eye watched the disappearing cone as +if fascinated by some novel mechanical process.</p> + +<p>The unusual silence aroused Virginia from uneasy +thoughts of her father. Following the eyes of her +guests she caught the common target as the last bite +disappeared, and noted that the lips of the black company +moved sympathetically coincident with its departure.</p> + +<p>“These children will be late for lunch?” worried +the young hostess, awakening to the requirements of +the hour.</p> + +<p>“Yas’m,” the woman confessed with indifference. +“It ain’ no mattah.” From outward appearances the +infants took issue upon the question, deeming it one +of grave concern. “Dey eats at noon but ah fix ’em +up er snack w’en we git back.” The orphans registered +relief.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span>“How would they like an ice cream cone?” suggested +Virginia.</p> + +<p>The infants awaited the verdict in breathless anticipation.</p> + +<p>“Ah guesses dey lak it mighty well.” The woman +looked about her at the upturned mouths even as in a +nest of fledgeling blackbirds. The financial extravagance +daunted her. “Yo’all mought git one fo’ each +two.”</p> + +<p>Sore disappointment depressed the fledgelings.</p> + +<p>Virginia sensed the prevalent dejection. “No,” she +decided, “each child shall have one. Go on to Vivian’s, +Ike.”</p> + +<p>Now, Mr. Vivian maintained an establishment for +the distribution of those mild refreshments appealing +to youth. His fastidious soul endeavored to foster +the delicate things of life. He dealt in sugars and +syrups in preference to lard or kerosene. This spirit +prevailed in his public parlors. Golden rays reflected +in dazzling brilliancy in many mirrors from gilded +grills. It was meet that in such a temple only the elect +should partake of ambrosia. This thought exuded +from every pore of Mr. Vivian. At times he spoke +of it.</p> + +<p>The world accepts a man at his own value. So, +South Ridgefield appraised Mr. Vivian’s resort at his +own valuation; but by no means does this mean that +his clientele was limited. Far from it. The youth +of South Ridgefield were not modest in their self-esteem. +In spite of individual embarrassment, when +first brought under the influence of the Vivian presence +and decorations, they gathered daily in great +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +numbers in the Vivian parlors, that the world might bear +witness, through their presence, to their elevated social +status.</p> + +<p>Indeed, certain hardy and desperate spirits did, by +continued presence and notable consumption of wares, +become so bold that they dared to address the proprietor +as “Bill,” and risked mild pleasantries as that the +nectar was “rotten dope,” or that, through error, a +“dash er onion or sumpin’” had been introduced into +their sacchariferous cup. Such familiarity was for +the few. Did not eye witnesses support tradition in +evidence of the casting forth of the unworthy from +the Vivian portals?</p> + +<p>Had not reputable bibbers testified that certain dirty +faced urchins, essaying early adventures in trade and +tendering but five coppers instead of the eight, well +known to be the post war value of the cone, been +driven into the street with loud objurgation?</p> + +<p>Likewise, there was the memorable episode of the +drunken tramp. Stumbling into this resort of innocent +youth under the belief that it was a saloon, he +was summarily ejected by the police. For a time, a +splintered mirror gave silent testimony to this banishment. +It evidenced the casting of a root beer mug at +the white coated soda dispenser by the vulgar varlet, +obsessed by the delusion that he was enjoying the +more thrilling sport of heaving a beer stein at a bartender.</p> + +<p>But by far the greater number of refusals of service, +with its corollary of altercation and throwings out, +had to do with negroes.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t serving ’em in my place,” Mr. Vivian had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span> +proclaimed, with a frank disregard of at least the spirit +of the fifteenth amendment.</p> + +<p>The sweets dispensed by Mr. Vivian drew the black +people as molasses does the fly, and South Ridgefield +had a large percentage of negro residents. For a time +hardly a day passed without noisy wrangles. Comfortably +seated in full view and hearing of such disputes, +the elect were greatly edified thereby. Of late, +such disturbances had decreased, and, as they had ended +always in favor of the confectioner, he felt assured +that he had settled the race issue in his own place at +least.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vivian waited today behind his marble topped +counter and supervised his numerous assistants. +Through the front windows he watched the multitude +which had assembled to view the minstrel parade disperse. +He observed an influx of gilded youth over +his threshold. One listening to explanations would +have gathered that the unusual number present was not +due to interest in such low concerns as minstrel bands. +Through untoward events the pageant had obtruded +itself, as it were, into blasé vision.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vivian’s eyes, as has been suggested, rested +upon the street. Into his optical angle rolled the Dale +car. It was well known to the confectioner. Often +it paused for long periods before his place while Virginia +refreshed herself within. It was his delight, at +these times, to greet the maiden with profound respect, +as his heart swelled with pride. The car of Obadiah +Dale, the wealthiest, and in consequence, in Mr. +Vivian’s judgment, the peak of the town’s social +strata, awaited without. Within the house of Vivian, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +the heiress partook of Vivian products. What could +be more appropriate?</p> + +<p>The spectacle of the big machine given up to the +conveyance of this small maiden had always pleased +Mr. Vivian. There was a cavalier disregard of the +cost of gasoline, oil, and tires which appealed to him. +Today, the large passenger list astonished him, and, +even as the number impressed him, their aspect amazed +him.</p> + +<p>“Negroes,” he gasped, “coming <i>here</i>!” There are +moments in every life which have far-reaching consequences. +The confectioner faced one.</p> + +<p>The car stopped at the Vivian door. The glad +shouts of infants penetrated the halls set apart for the +fashionable. They offended the ears of the elect.</p> + +<p>“There is Virginia Dale and those colored kids with +whom she was making a spectacle of herself in the +minstrel parade,” sneered an excited girl. “If she +brings them in here, I’ll leave and never come back.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t worry,” a man of the world, of sixteen, +calmed her. “Old Viv won’t stand for any foolishness. +You watch him.”</p> + +<p>“Virginia Dale has lived so long in that big house +with only colored people that she likes them for +friends,” declared another girl contemptuously. “Too +good to associate with any of the young people of this +town, she parades around like that. I think it is disgusting +myself and I would tell her so, for very little.”</p> + +<p>These and similar remarks filled the ears of the perplexed +proprietor. He decided that whatever was +done in this instance had better be done, contrary to +his usual practice, beyond the hearing of the elect.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span>He rushed out to the waiting car. A smile was +upon his face but it was not his usual one of hearty +welcome. It spoke of hidden pain and anxiety.</p> + +<p>“How do you do, Mr. Vivian,” Virginia courteously +greeted the dispenser of toothsome delicacies. “I +want you to meet these little people from the Lincoln +Home.”</p> + +<p>He cast a glance into the nest of the blackbirds. It +lacked that interest with which new friends should be +greeted. He felt the curious glances of the chosen, +impinging against his back.</p> + +<p>“They are hungry, Mr. Vivian. We have had a +long ride and the children missed their lunch watching +the parade. Each of us wants the nicest ice cream cone +you can make. Seventeen, please.”</p> + +<p>“Cones!” Light dawned in Mr. Vivian’s darkness.</p> + +<p>“Bring them out, please?” Virginia begged.</p> + +<p>“Out?” The clouds which had veiled the true Mr. +Vivian rolled aside. Came sunshine and gladsome +welcome.</p> + +<p>In a moment the confectioner was behind his counter +urging his assistants to diligence. In joyous relief, +he shouted, “Make ’em big, boys. Make ’em big!”</p> + +<p>Then, disregarding the feelings of the staring elect, +Mr. Vivian hastened forth, bearing a box of cones. +In a moment, with his kindest smile, encouraged by +Virginia, he delivered with his own hand, to each infant, +one of his products.</p> + +<p>“The poor things. I don’t suppose orphans get ice +cream cones very often, do they?” Virginia asked the +woman.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span>“Some ain’ nevah had none afo’, Ah bets. Has +you, chillun? Who had one?” Six worldly wise +infants voted in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vivian was stirred deeply by this information. +That human beings were permitted to arrive at such an +age without experience of cones struck him as an economic +mistake. “It’s a shame,” he cried.</p> + +<p>“They eat them as though they were used to them,” +laughed Virginia.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he agreed, as he watched the mouths of the +blackbirds wag in solemn unison. Another thought +struck him. “You have had these orphans out for a +ride all morning, Miss Dale?”</p> + +<p>She nodded. “We’ve had a grand time, too. +Haven’t we, children?”</p> + +<p>Mouths were too full for utterance but there was a +unanimous bobbing of heads.</p> + +<p>When Virginia opened her purse to pay for the +cones, Mr. Vivian, after inspecting the tendered currency +for a moment, submitted a proposal. “Miss +Dale, would you object if I presented the cones to the +children? I would be glad to do it.”</p> + +<p>There was a look of understanding in Virginia’s +eyes as she answered him, “I know how you feel about +it. I can’t let you do it today, though, Mr. Vivian. +You see, it is my treat.”</p> + +<p>Motionless as a statue, Mr. Vivian stood before the +door of his establishment and watched the machine depart. +As it disappeared a look of great approval +rested upon his countenance. “There goes a darn +fine girl,” he muttered. He threw back his fat shoulders +and worked them as though a great load had been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span> +recently removed from them. “Thank heaven,” he +cried, “she didn’t take it into her head to unload that +outfit in my place.” He scratched his head. “What +would I have done?”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span><a id='link_5'></a>CHAPTER V<br /><span class='h2fs'>ACCIDENTS WILL HAPPEN</span></h2> + +<p>It was past one o’clock when Virginia left the colored +children at the Orphans’ Home. The purchase of the +cones had detained them much longer than she had anticipated. +Now, rid of her guests, she remembered +her meeting with her father. Appreciating with dismay +how the minutes had flown, she considered it advisable +to return home as soon as practicable that +rough water might be lubricated.</p> + +<p>“Hurry, Ike,” she told the chauffeur.</p> + +<p>Now, Ike needed little encouragement in this matter. +It delighted him exceedingly to find excuse to +unloose the surplus power of the fast machine. Tantalizing +qualms which only Serena’s cooking could +quiet likewise beset him. It was his custom to lunch +early and abundantly.</p> + +<p>Ike hurried. In a moment the car was rushing along +one of South Ridgefield’s residential streets at a high +rate of speed. Virginia’s thoughts rehearsed the events +of the morning. Those of the chauffeur anticipated +his delayed repast.</p> + +<p>They approached a corner. The hoarse honk of +a horn sounded from the intersecting street. At the +crossing came an instantaneous perception of a man +approaching at high speed upon a motorcycle and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +trying to dodge. The sickening sensation of impending +peril held the girl as the emergency brake squealed. A +heavy shock at the back of the automobile seemed to +lift it. Virginia screamed. The motorcycle rider +half dove, half tumbled out from the back of the big +car and crumpled an inert and senseless heap in the +street.</p> + +<p>The Dale car stopped almost at the instant of the +shock. Seeming to fall from his seat, Ike ran back +and stared for a second at the upset motorcycle and +then hurried to the recumbent figure.</p> + +<p>A bystander rushed out and joined the chauffeur, +crying, “Is he dead?”</p> + +<p>Ike, filled with personal woes, took no heed of the +inquiry. “Run squa’e into me. Smack bang. Done +knock er big dent in ma caah,” he protested.</p> + +<p>Luckily the bystander was a man of action rather +than words. He gave attention to the stricken one. +“Get the doctor, over there,” he commanded sharply, +pointing to a white house nearby.</p> + +<p>Ike disappeared on the run.</p> + +<p>For seconds which seemed hours, Virginia, held by +fright, could not move. Her eyes, wide with horror, +stared back at the motionless motorcyclist. His +flattened figure resembled a bundle of old clothes +dropped carelessly in the roadway. Certain that the +man was dead, the terrible thought came to the girl +that she was responsible for it. She could hear herself +saying, “Hurry, Ike.” It made her frantic, +she could not sit still and yet she wondered if she had +the strength to move. In a moment, she found herself +standing. Hardly knowing what she did, she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +climbed from the car and moved slowly towards the +figure lying in the dust. She watched it fearfully, as +if it might suddenly leap at her. Now she saw the +face. How dreadfully white it was. Surely he was +dead. The pity of this great fellow lying helpless in +the street moved her strangely. The pathos of his +weakness wrung her heart.</p> + +<p>The bystander removed his coat intending to make +a pillow of it. Guessing his purpose, Virginia hastened +to the car and brought back a cushion.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, that will be better,” he told her. Taking +the cushion, he held it irresolutely as though planning +how best to use it.</p> + +<p>“May I help?” To Virginia it seemed that the +words came of their own accord. She doubted if she +had the strength to do anything.</p> + +<p>“If you would, please? When I lift his head, will +you push the cushion under?”</p> + +<p>The girl dropped upon her knees in the dust of the +roadway. It brought her face very near to that of +the unconscious man. She noticed that he was young, +not much older than herself. When the cushion was +placed it lifted his head into an awkward position. +Readjusting the cushion, Virginia pushed it too far. +The motorcyclist’s head slid over and rested against +her knee. For an instant she hesitated and then, making +a pillow of her lap, she very gently lifted his head +into it.</p> + +<p>“That’s better. That’s the stuff,” approved the +bystander. Noticing her pallor, he added, “If you +can do it.”</p> + +<p>“I–I–I will be all right,” she hesitatingly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span> +reassured him. Yet, at the moment, she was not at +all sure of herself. Was she not holding the head of +a dead youth in her lap? It had shifted and a rivulet +of blood oozed from a small wound in the forehead, +formerly hidden. A deathly sickness swept the girl. +But even as it seized her came a determination to +fight her feelings and conquer them. She would not +faint.</p> + +<p>The motorcyclist groaned. Virginia almost dropped +his head in alarm. He wasn’t dead, but certainly that +melancholy sound marked the passing of his soul. +Other groans followed of such grievous quality that +she was sure each one was his last.</p> + +<p>“He’s coming around, I believe,” declared the bystander.</p> + +<p>The words reawakened hope in Virginia’s breast. +“Isn’t he dead?” she murmured gently.</p> + +<p>“No.” The voice came from her lap.</p> + +<p>Her startled blue eyes dropped. Two wide open +black eyes looked up into them wonderingly for an +instant and the lids closed.</p> + +<p>“Lord,” moaned the stricken one in unmistakable +language.</p> + +<p>“He’s praying,” thought Virginia and solemnly +bowed her head.</p> + +<p>Ike returned, followed soon by a doctor.</p> + +<p>“He’s regained consciousness,” the bystander told +the medical man.</p> + +<p>The physician knelt by the injured youth. He listened +to his heart and then started to lift an eyelid +when both lids opened so wide that Virginia was enabled +to confirm her previous impression that the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +motorcyclist’s eyes were black. The doctor felt the +man’s body and the groans redoubled as he touched one +of the legs. The medical man straightened up. “His +head seems to be all right. There is a fracture of the +right leg and probably a rib or two broken. He is +lucky to get off so easy. He will be a mass of bruises, +too, I suppose,” he announced. He glanced curiously +at the waiting car and then at Virginia and went on, +“You are Obadiah Dale’s daughter, are you not?”</p> + +<p>As she nodded her assent, he asked, “How did the +accident happen?”</p> + +<p>“I was to blame,” confessed Virginia, her eyes filling +with tears.</p> + +<p>“You weren’t driving the car?” he argued sympathetically +and when she admitted it, “I don’t see how +you can be in fault.”</p> + +<p>“I was though, doctor.”</p> + +<p>He gave her an enveloping professional glance. +The pale face and the flood of tears fighting to break +their dams did not escape him. “You are suffering +from the shock of the accident. You have been under +a strain and are nervous and unstrung.”</p> + +<p>Ike considered this an appropriate moment to make +public outcry. “Dat man was to blame. Ran smack +into me. Lak to punch er hole in de tiah wid ’is haid. +Ah gwine look fo’ er punkcher,” he assured the crowd +which had assembled.</p> + +<p>This attempt to win public favor at the expense of +a semi-unconscious opponent filled the doctor with indignation. +“You talk like a fool,” he informed the +chauffeur. “Without inquiring into the matter I conclude +that you are to blame. You help me carry this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span> +man under the trees and make him comfortable until +I can call an ambulance.”</p> + +<p>The snap judgment of the medical man apparently +struck Ike as of uncontrovertible accuracy, because +he prepared in silence to assist in caring for the injured +until Virginia suggested,</p> + +<p>“Why not take the man in our machine and get +him to the hospital so much quicker?”</p> + +<p>“Very good,” agreed the doctor. He eyed Ike +sternly. “It’s not a question of speed now. There +has been too much of that around here in my opinion.”</p> + +<p>“Yas’r,” the chauffeur made illogical response. +“Ah ain’ no speeder. Ah is de carefles’ drivah in dis +yere town. Safety fust. Dat’s ma motta.”</p> + +<p>“Appearances are against you,” the doctor snorted +as he prepared a rough splint to protect the leg of the +motorcyclist during his removal.</p> + +<p>They placed the youth in the Dale car, the doctor +holding him in his arms but using a middle seat to +support the lower part of the body. Ike pulled down +the other seat and, at a sign from the physician, Virginia +took it.</p> + +<p>As they slowly left the scene of the accident, the +girl noticed that the arm of the youth nearest to her +swung helplessly at every jolt of the car. Taking the +hand in her own, she lifted it into her lap. When +she released it, there was a faint movement as if the +fingers searched for her own. Knowing him to be +suffering, Virginia regrasped his hand and it seemed +to her that there came an answering pressure as of +appreciation.</p> + +<p>Yet woe descended anew upon the girl. The youth +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +could not walk. He could not talk. As she looked +at his grotesquely postured body, she became convinced +that he was dying. The doctor’s remarks were +to cheer her. No one could forecast the results of +such an accident. The victim might pass away in the +car. He was so young to die, a mere boy. She had +killed him. Such thoughts were overwhelming her +with fear when they reached the hospital.</p> + +<p>In the reception room of the institution, she awaited +in dread the outcome of a more thorough examination. +As she looked about her, there was nothing in the furnishing +of the apartment to distinguish it from thousands +of others except the faint, sickening odor of ether +which told its own story.</p> + +<p>A most attractive young woman in a nurse’s uniform +came across the hall from a small office opposite. +“Were you with the emergency case Dr. Millard +brought?” she asked.</p> + +<p>Virginia thought the blonde curls, beneath the cap, +very attractive. Also she approved of the hazel eyes. +They seemed sympathetic and the overwrought girl +longed for that. “I came with a motorcyclist who was +hurt. I don’t know the doctor’s name,” she responded.</p> + +<p>“If you can give me the information about the patient +I will fill out his card.”</p> + +<p>Virginia looked at the nurse in astonishment. +“Why I don’t know him. I never met him until he +ran into our car.”</p> + +<p>“A violent introduction,” giggled the nurse, and +then, more seriously, “I am glad that it is not your +husband.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Husband</i>,” gasped Virginia, “on a <i>motorcycle</i>.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span> +Her face reddened in an embarrassment the absurdity +of which provoked her.</p> + +<p>The nurse broke into a gale of soft laughter. +“They come in automobiles, on motorcycles and on +foot. Evidently, you don’t care for those on motorcycles.” +She considered a moment. “I don’t blame +you. He would have so many accidents that you +would never know whether you were wife or widow.”</p> + +<p>Virginia was uncomfortable. The strain of the +most exciting day in her life was telling. The mischievous +eyes of the nurse were not helping matters. +“I think that I am quite young to be married,” the +girl announced with a prim dignity meant to suppress +this frivolous person.</p> + +<p>That sophisticated young woman shook anew with +amusement. “Oh, I don’t know. Have a look at +our maternity ward.”</p> + +<p>The shot went wide of the mark with Virginia. +“Oh,” she exclaimed, with rapturous interest, “I’d +love to. That’s where you keep the babies, isn’t it? +I adore them.”</p> + +<p>“We were speaking of husbands, not babies, you +know.” The irrepressible nurse persisted. “They are +closely related but not the same thing. That is, unless +the wife, as many of them do, insists upon making +a baby of her husband.”</p> + +<p>Husbands! Babies! Where was this strange conversation +leading? Again an annoyed Virginia felt +herself flush beneath the amused eyes of this very complacent +young person. With a rush, horrible thoughts +of the youth upstairs, surely suffering, possibly dying, +through her fault, obsessed her. Yet this nurse could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span> +look at one with hazel eyes dancing with merriment. +The mill owner’s daughter whirled to a window, but, +regardless of her efforts, the tears came.</p> + +<p>She heard the nurse move. In a moment a hand +touched her shoulder and a kind voice whispered, +“Dearie, you are all broken up, aren’t you? It’s a +shock from the accident. I should have remembered. +Let me get you something?”</p> + +<p>“No,–no,” protested Virginia, dissolved in tears. +“It’s not medicine I need. Oh, if I could only be sure +that poor fellow isn’t going to die. I will never have +a happy moment the rest of my life if he does.” She +raised her tear drenched face. “I wanted to make +people happy, not to bring sorrow or trouble to +any one. And now,” she sobbed, “I’ve killed a +man.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be silly, girlie. You couldn’t kill a flea, let +alone a man. Accidents will happen. We get hundreds +of such cases every month.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t get motorcyclists though. They are +injured while riding at fearful speed.”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, we do. I don’t mean to criticise your +friend but most motorcyclists are dreadfully reckless.”</p> + +<p>“He isn’t my friend. I told you that I don’t know +him,” grieved Virginia.</p> + +<p>“Why worry so, then? I heard the doctor say that +it was not a serious case myself.”</p> + +<p>“He was concealing something. Anyway, it is +wrong of us to say unkind things about the poor fellow +when he has no friends to help him,” Virginia concluded +with a note of defiance.</p> + +<p>“<i>Have</i> we?” the nurse responded, “I think that I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +said,–you may remember–that motorcyclists are +reckless.”</p> + +<p>“But,” sobbed the unhappy girl, “I thought it, too.”</p> + +<p>“He wouldn’t care about it, anyway,” argued the +nurse soothingly. “Cheer up, he’ll soon be well. I +never remember a motorcyclist dying in this hospital. +They are either killed outright,” she explained in a +matter of fact tone, “or they soon recover. They +have so many accidents learning to ride, I suppose, that +they get toughened. I don’t mean that they are tough +fellows,” she explained hastily, fearful that Virginia +might deem the remark unkind. “I mean that one +must be young, and strong, and hard, to run one of +the things.”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s tears had ceased to flow. “I should +think that a motorcyclist would have to be–quick–and +graceful,” she interrupted, and then ended, “–and +very brave,” being, evidently much uplifted by +the nurse’s remarks.</p> + +<p>“And,” continued the very observant attendant of +the sick, “I should think that they would have to be +very strong and healthy, perfectly nerveless, and,” she +smiled, “not a bit fastidious to ride a motorcycle.”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s face bore a look of mild reproof which +melted away as she joined in the hearty laugh of the +nurse.</p> + +<p>“I am going up stairs,” resumed that energetic person +cheerfully, “and see your motorcyclist. In a +minute, I will be back able to assure you that he is not +seriously injured.”</p> + +<p>As the girl waited, the quiet of the great building +depressed her. To her came the thought that it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span> +a place of weariness, pain, suffering. The hall before +her was the highway along which men and women +passed on their way to those white bed battle-grounds +beyond. Through hours, and days of weariness and +suffering the combat dragged its weary length or moved +in strenuous actions, short and sharp, towards victory, +with the joyous return of the pale and weakened warrior +to loved ones, home, friends, and all that makes +life worth living, or else–</p> + +<p>A door opened above stairs. Something very like a +smothered laugh echoed and the soft pad of rubber +soles came on the steps.</p> + +<p>“He’s all right,” the nurse reassured Virginia, as +she reentered the room. “He’s perfectly conscious +and the doctor says that he sees no reason why he +should not get along nicely.” Her manner became very +professional as she went on, “Your motorcyclist has +a fractured leg, three fractured ribs, and many +bruises.” She shrugged her shoulders deprecatingly, +“That’s nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing! I think that it is dreadful.” Virginia +displayed indications of renewed agitation.</p> + +<p>The nurse made haste to comfort her, “Remember, +I have seen him. That young man may be brittle but +he’ll mend fast.”</p> + +<p>“He will suffer so,” worried Virginia.</p> + +<p>“No, not after his leg is set. Of course he will be +in some pain for a few days but that will soon pass.” +The nurse giggled. “Right now he has a bad headache +from striking either your car or the street with his +head. It must be made of extraordinarily strong material.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span>Virginia gave no heed to the concluding sentence. +A look of alarm spread over her face. “He struck the +car an awful blow. It fairly lifted it. Was that his +head?” she gasped.</p> + +<p>“Possibly,” admitted the dancing eyed nurse. “His +headache is severe. But he’ll be over that in the morning.”</p> + +<p>Another matter of anxiety recurred to the girl. +“How’s his fever?” she troubled, her eyes big with +pity.</p> + +<p>“Fever!” Surprise claimed the nurse as its own. +“Now what ever put that into your head?”</p> + +<p>“I held his hand when we brought him here. It +was very hot.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I see,” admitted the nurse with a solemnity of +tone which belied her tell-tale orbs. “What a little +helper you <i>were</i>. You held the patient’s hand, and, +discovering it to be warm, you believed him dead.”</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t it strange?” Virginia gravely pursued her +own line of thought. “It seemed to me that he wanted +me to hold his hand, so I did.”</p> + +<p>“Kind girl,” the nurse complimented her, and then, +as from a wealth of experience, explained, “I never +knew a man who disliked to hold hands. Certainly a +motorcyclist would have no compunctions about it. +Don’t worry about fever in this case.”</p> + +<p>“You are laughing at me again. You love to tease +me,” protested Virginia.</p> + +<p>“I can’t help it after seeing that motorcyclist.”</p> + +<p>“Why should you laugh about him? Poor fellow, +he suffers so.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I suppose he does, but his appearance does not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span> +draw sympathy. They’ve dressed him up in pink pajamas. +He’s a great big fellow and his eyes–”</p> + +<p>“Are black,” announced Virginia with great assurance.</p> + +<p>“Yes, but how on earth did you know it?”</p> + +<p>“He looked up at me,” Virginia confessed soberly.</p> + +<p>“Looked up at you? Please tell me when? While +you were holding his hand?”</p> + +<p>“No.” The girl spoke with great gentleness, as if +in a dream she reënacted the scene she described. +“His head was lying in my lap and suddenly he opened +his eyes and looked up at me for a moment–and +closed them.”</p> + +<p>The nurse choked with suppressed laughter. “I +thought,” she rippled, “that it was a collision of vehicles, +not of hearts.”</p> + +<p>“How very silly,” thought Virginia, and regarding +the nurse coldly, she said aloud, “I’ll go now. I am +sorry to have been so much trouble to you.”</p> + +<p>Unmoved by the change in the mood of the visitor, +the nurse accompanied her to the door. “You’ll be +coming back to see your patient?” she suggested.</p> + +<p>“I suppose I should,” Virginia mused. Her coolness +towards the nurse melted. “It would be dreadfully +embarrassing to visit a strange man.”</p> + +<p>“I can help you. I go back to ward duty tomorrow +and will have charge of the surgical cases. I’ll know +him by the time you call.”</p> + +<p>“That will be fine. I’ll bring him something to +eat.” A further courtesy occurred to Virginia. +“Would you let him know, please, that I waited to +be sure that he was as comfortable as possible?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span>“That has been done,” the nurse told her. “When +I was up stairs I explained to him that you were waiting, +in almost your very words.”</p> + +<p>The curiosity of her sex beset the mill owner’s daughter. +“Did he say anything about it?” she questioned.</p> + +<p>Great merriment, promptly subdued, shook the +nurse. “I should hardly call it ‘anything.’ Of +course, I could not question him in his condition. I +caught two words. Perhaps I misunderstood them.”</p> + +<p>“What were they?”</p> + +<p>“He said”–again the nurse was shaken by concealed +amusement–“something which sounded to +me like”–she hesitated to regain control of her +feelings–“Some chicken.”</p> + +<p>“Poor fellow,” sympathized compassionate Virginia. +“He is hungry. Serena fries chicken deliciously, +and he shall have some of it.” As she hurried +away, she wondered what it was that had amused +the nurse so much that she could not overcome a final +outburst.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span><a id='link_6'></a>CHAPTER VI<br /><span class='h2fs'>IKE EXPLAINS</span></h2> + +<p>Obadiah Dale gave unusual thought to his daughter +during a period following the minstrel parade. +This attention was due primarily to the appearance +of Virginia as a seeming part of the pageant. It was +due secondarily, and consequently in ever increasing +force as the minutes passed, to the girl’s unexplained +delay in returning home to lunch.</p> + +<p>Immediately upon his arrival, Obadiah had attempted +to elicit from Serena all information in her +possession concerning orphans and minstrels. His approach +to the subject was craftily obscured.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see the car. Virginia not home, yet?”</p> + +<p>“Yas’r. She orter bin back er long time ergo.” +From Serena’s appearance one would have judged her +deeply aggrieved.</p> + +<p>“Where is she?”</p> + +<p>“She tek er li’l ride. Ain’t she bin at yo’all’s office?”</p> + +<p>Serena was conscious that her speed regulations, literally +interpreted and conscientiously obeyed by Ike, +might be responsible for the delayed return of the absent +ones. She was aware, that regardless of the real +reason, Ike, constitutionally, would not be adverse to +transferring all blame to her. She deemed it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span> +advantageous, therefore, to submit her defence before the +arrival of the complainant and thus win the sympathetic +support of the court.</p> + +<p>“Ah tole dat Ike to drive mo’e cafful. Ah ain’ +wantin’ Miss Virginy broke up ’count o’ his foolishness.”</p> + +<p>“They were safe enough when I saw them down +town. As far as I could make out they had been +following a minstrel band about,” Obadiah informed +her.</p> + +<p>“Minst’el band!” Serena lifted up her voice loudly. +“Dat’s Ike. Wot inte’est dat chil’ got in er ole minst’el +band. It sure is dat fool Ike.”</p> + +<p>“They had a negro woman and a lot of negro children +in the back of the car.”</p> + +<p>“Black woman an’ chillun,” shouted the old negress. +“Howcum dey in dat caah? Ah axes you +dat?” Serena’s temper was rising. “Dat fool boy +Ike done fill up dat caah wid trash. Yas’r. Whar +was dey?”</p> + +<p>“Following that band down the middle of Main +Street.”</p> + +<p>“On Main Street, wid all de high tone folks er +lookin’ at ma po’ li’l honey chil’ er packed in wid er +bunch o’ trash er laughin’ an’ er hollerin’ at er minst’el +band.” Serena became almost inarticulate in her +anger.</p> + +<p>Obadiah kicked angrily at the rug in front of him. +Again he remembered the smiles of the crowd. +Gruffly dismissing the servant, he watched her depart, +every line of her body quivering with indignation and +muttering dire threats at Ike.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span>The manufacturer dropped into a chair and attempted +to read a newspaper but he could not keep +his mind from the episode of the morning. It had +been an absurd affair. His sense of personal dignity +rebelled at his daughter being entangled in such a +thing. The thought came that Virginia was only a +child who had become involved in an escapade of Ike’s +which every one had already forgotten.</p> + +<p>He settled himself more comfortably but the picture +of the parade would not depart from his thoughts. +Obadiah could not stand ridicule and those laughing +faces danced before him. That child argument was +unsatisfactory, too. Virginia had appeared quite proud +of the load of colored children when he had talked to +her. She didn’t look the child part, either. To the +contrary she seemed quite mature–almost a woman. +With a start, he remembered his daughter’s age. +“Confound it,” he muttered, “she is a woman. She +should behave as one. She must learn to have some +regard for my dignity and to uphold my position in +this town.”</p> + +<p>He arose, looked at his watch, and, striding out upon +the porch, gazed anxiously down the street. As he +watched, there came a distant honk of familiar note +and in a few moments his car turned in through the +gate.</p> + +<p>“What made you so late?” roared Obadiah before +the machine stopped.</p> + +<p>Virginia leaped out as the car paused and running +up the steps threw her arms about her father. “Oh +Daddy,” she responded, “I have been so frightened.” +Laying her head against his arm, she shuddered.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span>“What happened?” Obadiah’s voice was cutting, +sharp.</p> + +<p>“We almost killed a man. We broke his legs and +ribs and gave him a terrible headache. We had to +take him to the hospital where he is suffering dreadfully.”</p> + +<p>“Dat man done knock er big dent in dis yere caah +wid his haid,” proclaimed Ike. “Ran slap bang into +me.”</p> + +<p>At the sound of the chauffeur’s well remembered +voice, Serena, as a privileged member of the household, +returned to the porch. Approaching Virginia +who had drawn an arm of her father about herself, the +old negress patted the girl reassuringly upon the shoulder +and pledged revenge. “Nev’ mine, honey chil’, +nev’ mind, ah gwine ’tend to dat fool, Ike, presen’ly.” +Hurrying to the end of the porch she glared down at +the chauffeur as if he were the root of all evil in that +vicinity. “Wot you mean er takin’ er woman an’ ’er +fambly in dat caah wid ma honey chil’ an’ er runnin’ +ovah er ban’ an’ er killin’ er minst’el man? ’Splain +youse’f, boy.”</p> + +<p>Ike was puzzled to identify the victim of his alleged +manslaughter under the conditions named. +“Wot minst’el man? Ah ain’ kill no minst’el man a +tall.”</p> + +<p>“Who dat done dent yo’all’s caah?” cried the accusing +voice.</p> + +<p>“How ah gwine tell if dat man wot bre’k hisse’f up +on ma caah is er minst’el man? Ah ain’ ax ’im. Ah +ain’ kill no man.”</p> + +<p>“Who dat woman an’ her fambly you ’vite into dat +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span> +caah? Wot mar’ied woman is yo’all makin’ up to? +Wot’s de name o’ dat frien’, wid chillun?”</p> + +<p>Ike had to suffer much that morning. He writhed +under this new inquisition which displayed a tendency +to besmirch his reputation. No love light glowed in +the porcupine’s eyes but hatred, intense and eternal, +flashed from them, and he bristled as he made forceful +denial. “Dat female sco’pion ain’ no frien’ o’ mine.”</p> + +<p>Before such dislike, who could suspect? Where +dwelt such frankness? Who could doubt? Yet, +Serena, conjecturing that a more complete understanding +of the case might insure some interesting developments, +excused him with words of warning, “You +ain’ nevah kep’ nothin’ f’on me, no time.”</p> + +<p>After Obadiah had heard his daughter’s story of the +accident, his mind reverted to the minstrel parade. +“You seem to have had a very strenuous morning, +Virginia,” he remarked. “When we met, you had +quite a load of passengers with you. Tell me about +them.” He wanted to know how those orphans got +into the car.</p> + +<p>Virginia was in the midst of her description of the +morning’s events when her father interrupted,</p> + +<p>“Why should you take those negro children for a +ride? What made you do it?”</p> + +<p>“Can’t you understand, Daddy? Those poor little +darkies were frightened almost out of their wits +by our car. They cried, and they looked so forlorn. +The walk is their big pleasure each week. We spoiled +it in a way, today, and I tried to make up for it.” +She was lost in thought for a moment and then went +on. “Think of it! Those children are shut up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span> +within the walls of that institution every minute of +the time except for that weekly walk.”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with that? Where else would +you keep them? They can’t run loose upon the +streets.” Obadiah wished to bring his daughter to a +reasonable and sensible view of the situation.</p> + +<p>“Of course, Daddy, the orphans can’t be allowed +to run wild. That would never do. But that makes +it no less hard for them to be shut up in that yard +year after year with only a walk now and then for a +change.” She looked appealingly at him. “How +would you like to be shut up in a yard all of the time, +Daddy?”</p> + +<p>Obadiah almost shuddered. The thought of being +confined in an inclosure was repulsive to him. It savored +of the penalties prescribed in certain anti-trust +laws of which he had an uncomfortable knowledge. +He would have gladly eliminated the question of restraint, +but not being able to, asked, “How can you +help it?”</p> + +<p>Virginia gleefully clinched her argument. “Take +the orphans out oftener and take them riding so that +they can go farther than their little legs can carry +them. I did the last thing, Daddy, don’t you see?”</p> + +<p>Obadiah saw, and, admitting the strength of his +daughter’s argument to himself, recognized that it had +logical strength as a plea for a series of rides. He +dropped the matter promptly and in this was assisted +by the gong calling them to a belated luncheon.</p> + +<p>Virginia, because of the excitement of the morning, +had little appetite. She watched her father for a time +and then her eyes took on a deeper blue as, without +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +averting her gaze, she drifted away into one of those +mysterious musings of girlhood.</p> + +<p>He gulped his food hastily as if he had a train to +catch. “I should be back,” he fretted. “My time is +worth money. You must learn to be considerate of +others, Virginia.”</p> + +<p>The shadow of unhappiness veiled the face of +dreams as the girl started at his words. “I am very +thoughtless, I am afraid, Daddy,” she answered. “I +shall try to be more careful.” And then in a whisper +so low that he could not hear it, she continued, “It +would make mother unhappy to know that I was that +way.”</p> + +<p>“You should overcome your faults, particularly +your thoughtlessness in regard to others,” he grumbled, +and immediately changed the subject. “Do you +know the name of the fellow who ran into you?”</p> + +<p>“No, Daddy.”</p> + +<p>He considered a moment. “Don’t you bother about +it.” He gave her a smile and the traces of her unhappiness +faded before it. “I will have some one call +up the hospital. I must take the matter up with Wilkins.”</p> + +<p>“Honey, chil’, ain’ yo’all gwine res’ you’se’f dis +afternoon?” Serena demanded, as they arose from the +table.</p> + +<p>“In a minute, Serena, I want to ask Daddy something.”</p> + +<p>She hurried after him. There was almost a trace +of embarrassment in her voice, as she asked, “Daddy, +may I go to the hospital tomorrow and visit that +man?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span>“What?” Obadiah was surprised. “Why on +earth should you want to do that?”</p> + +<p>“I think I should. I told Ike to hurry, as I explained +to you. If I hadn’t done that the man would +not have been hurt.” She gave a woeful little sigh. +“I helped to take him to the hospital and so I feel acquainted +with him.”</p> + +<p>A shrewd, calculating look swept over Obadiah’s +face. “That’s a most informal introduction, I am +thinking. However, it will do no harm to get on +friendly terms with that fellow. I suppose that it +will mean a suit, anyway, but I won’t oppose your +going.”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s face lighted with happiness and pride. +“Daddy dear, you have the kindest and most thoughtful +heart. You are always trying to do something +nice,” she laughed, softly. “You’ve made a mistake +this time, and you will have to think of something else. +The man in the hospital doesn’t need clothes. I noticed +that his were not hurt in the accident.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Clothes</i>,” cried Obadiah, much perplexed by the +tribute to himself and the subsequent explanation. +“Who said anything about clothes?” Suddenly, understanding +came to him. “I’ll swear–” promised +the astounded manufacturer.</p> + +<p>Virginia quickly kissed him squarely upon the +mouth.</p> + +<p>“No, you won’t,” she said, her eyes tender with love +and pride, “you are much too good and generous and +noble to do that.”</p> + +<p>For an instant, Obadiah appeared about to contradict +his daughter, but, changing his mind, he hurried +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span> +out to his waiting car and pressed the button on the +horn.</p> + +<p>At the signal, Ike appeared, coming hurriedly from +the kitchen. As he advanced, he deposited in his +mouth the remains of a slice of pie. Because of the +unfortunate events of the morning, the procurement +of this pastry partook of the nature of a diplomatic +triumph. Ike had but little pride in this. His mind +was upon weightier matters. As he approached his +employer, he bolted the remnants in a manner conducive +neither to his present dignity nor future health.</p> + +<p>Obadiah endeavored to fix the shifting glance of his +chauffeur with a piercing eye. “Ike,” he demanded, +roughly, “how did that accident occur?”</p> + +<p>“Yas’r, dat man come er speedin’ down Secon’ Street +an’ ran smack bang into dis yere caah. He dent it +wid his haid,” the chauffeur testified glibly.</p> + +<p>“Show me the dent!”</p> + +<p>Ike promptly indicated a slight depression in the +body of the car above a rear fender.</p> + +<p>“You did that when you ran into a coal truck and +smashed the fender.”</p> + +<p>Ike was greatly astonished but admitted erroneous +conclusions. “Ah mek er mistake. Dat man mus’ +er landed on de wheel den.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t make any more mistakes about this accident,” +the manufacturer rapped. “Virginia tells me +that you were coming out Forest Avenue and that this +fellow was going down Second Street.”</p> + +<p>Ike considered this with care, that deception be eliminated. +“Yas’r, Miss Virginny ain’ mek no mistake, +neither.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span>Obadiah glared at his humble retainer. “He was +on your right hand then?” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“Ah dis’remembers jes whar dat man cum f’om, +Misto Dale. He cum so fas’ it plum slip ma mind.” +Ike scratched his head thoughtfully. “It done gone +f’om me.”</p> + +<p>“He was going down Second Street towards the +Court House and you were coming out home, weren’t +you?”</p> + +<p>“Yas’r, dat’s jes de way o’ it.”</p> + +<p>“Then, he approached you on your right hand. He +had the right of way.”</p> + +<p>“Misto Dale, dat man done took all de way.”</p> + +<p>“You know he had the right of way under the +law,” bawled Obadiah, provoked by the stupidity of +his servitor.</p> + +<p>“Yas’r, dat’s de law.” A most flattering note of +admiration for his employer’s legal acumen crept into +Ike’s voice. “Misto Dale, yo’all sutinly knows de +law.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind what I know,” roared Obadiah, thrusting +compliments rudely aside. “If that fellow hit my +car you must have been in his way.”</p> + +<p>“No, sar, Ah was er gwine to hit ’im, ’ceptin’ he +dodge. He done cum so quick ah ain’ seen ’im ’till +he whar der. Yas’r.”</p> + +<p>Puzzled at what he had unearthed, Obadiah sought +illumination along other lines. “How fast was that +fellow running, Ike, when he hit you?”</p> + +<p>The chauffeur lifted his eyes heavenward as if seeking +inspiration. A crow winged its way slowly across +the sky. He followed it critically as if using its speed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span> +as a measure for the estimate sought. “’Bout seventy +seven mile er hour,” he ventured.</p> + +<p>Obadiah boiled. “Seventy seven miles an hour on +Second Street is absurd,” he blurted. “It’s too rough. +A man would have to fly to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Yas’r dat’s hit. He was er flyin’. Jest er hittin’ +de high places.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah scorched his menial with a look which +should have reduced him to a cinder.</p> + +<p>Ike shifted uneasily under the unkind gaze of his +indignant employer as he waited further interrogation.</p> + +<p>“How fast were you running?” Obadiah’s tone +was as warm as his aspect.</p> + +<p>Ike deemed it advisable at this point to make his +statements general. “Ah drives cafful. Safety furst, +dat’s ma motta.”</p> + +<p>“I have heard that nonsense of yours before. What +I want to know,” Obadiah bleated in a high falsetto, +“is, how fast were you going?”</p> + +<p>Again, Ike turned to the skies. Suddenly came a +change. His doubtful demeanor disappeared. He +met the stern countenance of his employer with a glad +smile of confidence and assurance. To him, in the +hour of need, had been vouchsafed a solution of his +problem. “Miss Sereny,” he explained, with great +satisfaction, “she done tell me not to drive no fas’er +den er hoss an’ ker’idge kin go. Dat’s jes how fas’ ah +goes.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah leaped into his car and slammed the door. +“Take me to my office,” he blazed.</p> + +<p>Ike obeyed him, running, it may be noted, at a speed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span> +well above that usually attained by the horses and carriages +of Serena’s fond remembrance.</p> + +<p>Obadiah entered his office yet much irritated by the +recent examination of his chauffeur. “Jones,” he +shouted peevishly.</p> + +<p>“At your service, Sir,” responded the ever courteous +private secretary, ceasing his social plannings for +the House of Dale, hurriedly, and leaving the bookkeeper +sorely embarrassed in his labors, through the +loss of the voucher from which he was working +snatched away by Mr. Jones, and borne into the manufacturer’s +presence, as proof that his absence was due +to zealous watchfulness of his employer’s interests, +rather than to personal motives.</p> + +<p>“Tell Mr. Wilkins that I want to see him.”</p> + +<p>“Immediately, sir.” Obadiah’s voice demanded +speed and Mr. Jones sped, bearing the bookkeeper’s +work away with him.</p> + +<p>In a moment the expeditious private secretary returned +followed by Hezekiah Wilkins who passed on +into Obadiah’s room and closed the door.</p> + +<p>Obadiah was waiting behind a large desk in the center, +and motioning to his legal adviser to be seated, +made known his business in these words. “An embarrassing +personal matter has occurred, Hezekiah, in +which I must ask your assistance.” The manufacturer +chose his words with care. Diplomacy is necessary +when asking corporation lawyers to attend to the +minor concerns of life. “It is so small a matter, I +hesitate to ask your advice.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilkins was short and fat. His head was bald +and his face intellectual. There was a glint of humor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span> +in his eyes which was very noticeable when he removed +his nose glasses for purposes of gesticulation. His defective +sight did not prevent him from casting a keen +glance at his employer, meanwhile tapping upon his +front teeth with the gold frame of his glasses. “Don’t +hesitate on my account, Obadiah.” There was a +shadow of a smile on the attorney’s face. “I’ve done +everything for you, but–” he intended to suggest as +a pleasantry–“bail you out of jail,” but after a second’s +consideration of his employer’s grim countenance, +he continued, “buy you a marriage license,” as +being less likely to affront a sensitive soul.</p> + +<p>Now, Obadiah Dale had never given a moment’s +consideration to a second marriage, and the thought +that his attorney harbored inner suspicions of matrimonial +designs upon his part interfered with the thread +of his remarks. “What put that into your head?” +he demanded, testily.</p> + +<p>“Put what?” The fat face of the lawyer reflected +great innocence.</p> + +<p>“Marriage licenses,” retorted Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” chuckled the attorney, and quite frankly for +one of his profession, he confessed, “It just slipped +out, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>The mill owner gave Hezekiah a severe glance as if +to warn him of the grave danger of slips of the tongue +to one in his profession.</p> + +<p>This attention was lost, because the lawyer seemed +greatly interested in the erection of a sign over the +way.</p> + +<p>Finding looks unavailing, Obadiah reverted to his +business. “A fellow on a motorcycle ran into my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +car this morning. He broke a leg and they took him +to the hospital where he is now, I believe.”</p> + +<p>“Who was to blame?” asked the attorney.</p> + +<p>“I can’t tell,” Obadiah replied crossly, as he remembered +Ike’s testimony. “I can’t get a thing out of +that fool chauffeur of mine. His story is absurd.”</p> + +<p>“Were there witnesses?”</p> + +<p>“One, I think, besides my daughter.”</p> + +<p>“What does she say?” Hezekiah tickled his chin +with his glasses and examined the picture moulding as +if it were something unique in that line.</p> + +<p>“I have not asked her, directly. I thought it inadvisable. +I gather that she believes herself to blame because +she told the chauffeur to hurry home.”</p> + +<p>“Ahem,” said the lawyer, resuming his dental tattoo +with great spirit. “Who had the right of way?”</p> + +<p>“The motorcycle was approaching from the right,” +admitted Obadiah grudgingly.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah arose to his feet and moved around until +he stood opposite to his employer. “Keep out of +court, Obadiah,” he warned him. “A jury will soak +you in this kind of case. How far can I go in a compromise?” +he concluded, perfunctorily.</p> + +<p>“I won’t pay a cent,” roared Obadiah, flying into a +rage. “They can’t bleed me.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah understood the manufacturer’s mood. He +paused for a minute and then continued very calmly. +“How about a couple of hundred dollars and hospital +expenses?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“The fellow’s hospital expenses?” There was a +persuasive note in the lawyer’s voice.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span>“No!” Obadiah’s face was flushed and set in its +obstinacy.</p> + +<p>“The man may be poor. He may have dependents +who will be deprived of the actual necessities of life. +It could easily be that suffering and want would arise +from this little case.” There was a pleading note in +Hezekiah’s voice and almost a look of entreaty upon +his kindly face.</p> + +<p>“I don’t give a hang,” snarled Obadiah. “That’s +their bad luck, not mine.”</p> + +<p>Yet, the attorney waited, silently watching the angry +manufacturer thrust papers from side to side of his +desk.</p> + +<p>Finally he glanced up. His temper had worn itself +out. “Fix it up for twenty-five dollars,” he snapped. +“That’s my limit.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah shrugged his shoulders in frank disgust at +the smallness of the sum named, nodded his head in +recognition of his instructions and left the room.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span><a id='link_7'></a>CHAPTER VII<br /><span class='h2fs'>JOE PROVES INTERESTING</span></h2> + +<p>The morning was beautiful. During the hours of +darkness a shower had cleansed the great outdoor world +with its gentle moisture. Now, in all of its new laundered +freshness, the earth welcomed the warm rays +of the rising sun, sweeping with millions of scintillating +reflections through the air, clear and pellucid in its +purity. The rays sparkled and glittered on the drops +of moisture which clung to the grass blades and to the +leaves. They gave warm caresses to the bushes and +to the trees and from the upturned faces of the flowers, +waving coyly and coquettishly, they stole sly kisses, +until the blossoms blushed red and pink and hid their +faces beneath the leaves for very shame.</p> + +<p>Down from the hills danced a gentle breeze, and, +catching the naughty lovemakers, laughed merrily and +rushed away to whisper the story in the branches of the +trees. The birds overheard it and they laughed, too, +and spread the news, the naughty gossips, in a cheery +chorus of song.</p> + +<p>Then the world awakened and heard the laughter +of the wind and the merry song of the birds and felt +the caress of the sun and wise men threw back their +shoulders and took deep draughts of the morning air +and were happy, too.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span>At the hospital, a nurse in her garb of white was +humming softly as she moved about among the awakening +patients, setting the ward in order. She stopped +by a bed to remove a glass from the enameled table.</p> + +<p>A big, handsome fellow, arrayed in pink pajamas, +opened a pair of black eyes beneath a mop of disheveled +black hair and smiled up at her.</p> + +<p>“Good morning,” she greeted him. “How are you +this morning?”</p> + +<p>“Good–ouch!” An attempt to move was the +cause of the peculiar response.</p> + +<p>She came to his assistance. “Isn’t that better?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, thank you. I forgot about yesterday’s troubles +while I slept. How could I get so many sore +spots when I only struck in one place?” he asked.</p> + +<p>The nurse laughed as she inspected his chart. +“How’s your head this morning?”</p> + +<p>“Sister–” he grinned good humoredly–“that +dome of mine has completely recovered. I am healing +from the top down.”</p> + +<p>She raised a shade and a ray of sunshine flashed +across the foot of his bed. “Isn’t that better? It’s a +beautiful day.”</p> + +<p>He rolled and twisted his eyes until he was able to +get a glimpse of a bit of blue sky through the window. +His face registered great regret. “What a day for +a two or three hundred mile spin, sister,” he mused.</p> + +<p>Again she examined his chart. “Say, Mr. Joseph +Tolliver Curtis,” she remonstrated sharply.</p> + +<p>“Those who love me call me Joe,” he interrupted +in a gentle voice as he watched with great interest and +amusement the snap in her hazel eyes.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span>She disregarded the brazen hint and proceeded to +reprimand. “It’s time for you to cut out this ‘sister’ +business. I might stand for it once in awhile but you +have a chronic case of it. You took a spin yesterday +which is going to make us intimate acquaintances for +some time.”</p> + +<p>“Oh death, where is thy sting?” he interjected.</p> + +<p>Perfectly oblivious to his remark, she continued, +“It will be better, particularly for you, if our acquaintance +is a pleasant one. You will call me–Miss +Knight–Mr. Curtis,” she intimated with a grave dignity +which the wayward blonde curls beneath her cap +did not loyally support.</p> + +<p>“‘Night, sable goddess, from ebon throne descends,’” +he quoted with dramatic emphasis. “Do +you furnish breakfast as well as lectures on behavior +in this hospital?”</p> + +<p>She retired with great hauteur between smiling masculine +eyes to the end of the ward. Suddenly, she +whirled and waved her hand at the injured one, and, as +if addressing an old and intimate friend, called, “You +can have your breakfast in a minute, Joe.”</p> + +<p>In his apartment above the garage at the Dale home, +Ike was awakened by the shrill alarm of an electric +bell rung from a button pressed by Serena in the comfort +of her own bed. Thus he arose betimes of necessity, +rather than from personal desire to salute the +rising sun.</p> + +<p>Breathing deeply, the spirit of the morning entered +into the chauffeur’s veins as he watched a couple of fat +robins enjoying a breakfast of elastic worms pulled +from the moist earth. Lifting his voice in muffled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span> +song, he ran the big car out of the garage, and, opening +its bonnet, reclined on the radiator and lazily looked at +the engine.</p> + +<p>Like a high priestess veiled in clouds of incense while +engaged in holy mysteries, Serena moved about her +kitchen in the midst of appetizing odors, preparing +coffee, frying ham and cooking waffles for the morning +refreshment of the Dales. Now, as if such dainties +were insufficient, she brought forth another skillet and +put diverse parts of a fowl therein, and with skilled, +fork-armed hand shifted them about until they sissled +and hissed and fried.</p> + +<p>The morning breeze faintly wafted pleasing odors +to Ike. They assailed his nostrils delightfully. He +breathed yet a little deeper and sang yet a little louder. +Closing the bonnet, he climbed into a seat that he might, +in pleasant anticipation, rest from labor. Suddenly, +there came to him a more delicious scent. He sniffed +in disbelief that fate could be so kind, but his experienced +olfactory nerves reassured him. In such matters, +they could not err.</p> + +<p>“Chicken!” He sniffed and sought appropriate +outlet for joy. With a roar which shook the early +peace of the neighborhood as a salute of artillery, Ike +raced the engine of the machine and in the midst of this +diabolical furore, he sang a paean of joy.</p> + +<p>The uproar smote the calm of Serena’s kitchen. She +jerked with alarm, but the wisdom of years asserted +itself. Rushing out on the stoop she fixed indignant +eyes on the chauffeur. “You, Ike,” she cried, “stop +dat noise.”</p> + +<p>He returned her words with a cheery smile of trust +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span> +and confidence. Deafened by his own row, he judged +that she desired speech with him. The engine slowed +and the noise decreased until there could be distinguished +the words of a ballad of strenuous love,</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“Ah kissed ’er in de mouf</p> +<p>An’ ah hugged ’er in de souf.”</p> +</div> + +<p>“Ain’ you know bettah an’ to mek a noise dat a +way, dis time in de mo’ning?” the irritated cook inquired.</p> + +<p>“Ah ain’ mek no noise, Miss Sereny. Hit de +<i>caah</i>,” he made reply in pleasant tones. It would be +folly to irritate unduly the custodian of the chicken +lest the fowl be consumed before friendly relations +could be reestablished. His black face was bathed in +good humor as he went on. “Miss Sereny, ma hand +an’ ma foot done slip.”</p> + +<p>That smile disarmed the cook. It was his strongest +weapon, but Ike usually resorted to a sullen obstinacy +which infuriated her, to his undoing. She glared at +him for a moment and then his smile and the spirit of +the morning claimed her. “You bettah watch you’ +step, den,” she returned, and their voices blended in a +boisterous gust of laughter.</p> + +<p>Ike’s salute to his favorite fowl awakened Virginia +from her sleep with a start. Sitting up in bed, she cast +a frightened glance about her pretty bedroom. For a +moment she listened intently, drawn up in a little white +heap on her bed, her blue eyes misty with dreams, +peeping out from a frame of towsled hair. “It’s Ike +running the engine,” she decided.</p> + +<p>She gave a little yawn as she poked her feet into her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +slippers and ran over to a window. From it she could +look, between the tops of two great elms, across the +valley in which South Ridgefield lay to the top of a +small hill upon which, bathed in the morning sun, stood +the brick hospital building. Her eyes rested upon +it, thoughtfully, and she took a deep breath of morning +air. She began to sing happily as she turned to +dress.</p> + +<p>Obadiah was shaving in his bath room. He used an +old fashioned razor, the pride of his youth. His deep +cut wrinkles made it a matter of care–almost a ceremony. +Ike’s disturbance nearly resulted in the amputation +of a lip. Obadiah was peeved. Rushing to the +window, he threw it open. He heard Serena’s words +of remonstrance and determined to dismiss Ike. He +often did that.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the morning breeze played caressingly +about him. He pulled his bath robe closer to him and +slammed the window down. His face felt stiff where +the lather had dried upon it. “Darn the luck,” +growled Obadiah. He washed his face, restropped his +razor, reprepared his lather, and finally completed his +shave by nicking his neck on his Adam’s apple. +“Dang it all,” he howled. The world was ill using +Obadiah and he resented it. He dressed slowly and +from his bedroom window moodily viewed his beautiful +grounds.</p> + +<p>Into his view danced Virginia, swinging a wide +brimmed hat by its streamers and singing gaily as she +made for a bed of sweet peas.</p> + +<p>Obadiah watched her, but the harsh lines upon his +face did not soften nor the irascible look fade. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span> +gave a grim nod when the girl discovered him and +shouted a merry greeting.</p> + +<p>There was no one in the dining room when the manufacturer +entered it that morning. He seated himself +and began to eat his melon.</p> + +<p>The rich voice of Serena with all of its carrying +power came in at the window, “Yo’ all bettah git in +yere mighty fas’. You’ Daddy done eat up all de +breakfus’.”</p> + +<p>Then sounded the answering words of the girl, ringing +silvery and sweet, “Ask Daddy to wait. I have +some beautiful flowers for him.”</p> + +<p>Serena was suddenly beset with internal mutterings +and grumblings and broke into incoherent utterances. +“Ah ain’ got no time–no time–flowers–tell him +dat–No siree–Ah ain’ no fool.” A few moments +later she entered the dining room worrying aloud. +“Dat chil’ gwine be fo’ced to eat a col’ breakfus. Ah +caint keep grub hot all day.”</p> + +<p>“She must learn to be on time at her meals,” Obadiah +scolded.</p> + +<p>Serena gave him a look of stern disapprobation. +“Dat gal miss ’er breakfus er gittin’ flowers fo’ yo’ +all.”</p> + +<p>Light feet ran through the hall and Virginia skipped +into the room, her face flushed, her hair tossed and a +bunch of sweet peas in either hand.</p> + +<p>Unexpectedly, two soft arms were about Obadiah’s +neck. He found his face buried in a mass of blossoms +while girlish laughter in peals of delight rang in his +ears.</p> + +<p>Virginia shifted her position to examine in mock +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +solemnity the sober face of her father blinking from +the mass of delicate colors. She gave a shout of +amusement. “Daddy, you don’t match very well.” +She shifted the bouquets about his face. “There, that +is much better,” she decided. “Don’t you think so, +Serena?”</p> + +<p>Obadiah sneezed.</p> + +<p>“God bless you,” Virginia whispered.</p> + +<p>“Take those things out of my nose,” protested Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“You look so beautiful,” the girl giggled. “Doesn’t +he, Serena?”</p> + +<p>The colored woman watched the proceedings with +great gravity. “Leave you’ Daddy ’lone, chil’,” she +urged. “De breakfus gwine be ruined.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah released himself from his daughter’s embrace +and the blossoms dropped in a glowing mass upon +the table. “Eat your breakfast and stop this foolishness,” +he told her.</p> + +<p>“I’ll eat anything you’ll give me, Daddy dear. I +am as hungry as a bear.” She glanced at the clock. +“It’s late. I must hurry to get over to the hospital.”</p> + +<p>“What for?” he asked in apparent surprise.</p> + +<p>“To see the man who was hurt yesterday. I spoke +to you about it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but upon reflection I think it inadvisable. +You might catch some disease in a place like that. You +must think of yourself.”</p> + +<p>A look of disappointment came into her face. She +ate in silence, the gayety of the morning swept away +by his refusal.</p> + +<p>When breakfast was over, she followed him into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +living room where he sank into a chair and devoted +himself to his paper. Thinking deeply, she paused by +the center table. Very quietly, she opened a drawer +and took from it the book which had belonged to her +mother. She caressed the little volume gently for a +moment, a great tenderness in her eyes. Then she replaced +it. Determination had driven disappointment +from her face and there was a faint reflection of his +obstinacy in her jaw when she went over and confronted +her father. “Daddy,” she commenced, very +softly. “All your life you have been helping people–thinking +of others. In your thoughtfulness for my +health you wish to keep me away from the hospital. +But, don’t you see, I was to blame for that accident. +It is my duty to help that man, if I can. I must go.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah glanced over his paper at Virginia as she +began to speak. Realizing that her words savored of +rank rebellion, he reddened and glared at the sheet before +him as if it contained a warning of the presence +in his household of a serpent pledged to destroy its +peace. “What–what–what’s this?” he spluttered.</p> + +<p>“I can’t allow your love to make a coward of me–turn +me from my duty, Daddy.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah blinked as he considered this mutiny. +Judgment and experience warned him to control himself. +Unpleasant differences in the past had not always +resulted as he could have wished. There had +been times when he had been forced not only to sue +Virginia for peace but likewise to make abject overtures +to that firmest of allies, Serena.</p> + +<p>Obadiah thought rapidly. Outside of moral suasion, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span> +modern opinion recognizes but few methods for the +influencing of eighteen year old female insurgents. +If Obadiah argued, he would get mad. In his dilemma, +he surrendered, but not with good grace. +“Well,” he yielded sulkily, “if you feel that way about +it, have it your own way.” Scowling darkly, he flung +his paper from him and departed for his office with +asperity.</p> + +<p>From the porch Virginia waved him a last good bye. +“Poor Daddy. He is so afraid that I will get sick,” +she thought, pensively, as she watched the disappearing +car. But in a moment her good spirits returned +and she hurried into the kitchen. Serena was forced +to lay aside her work until the chicken was daintily arranged +in a basket with other delicacies added by the +old negress in reparation, possibly, for her weakness in +yielding to Ike a small portion of the invalid’s fare.</p> + +<p>Later that morning Virginia arrived at the hospital. +Following the directions given her, she found herself +standing in the doorway of a long room on the second +floor. On each side of a center aisle ran a row of white +bedsteads. The walls, painted a dull buff, were pierced +by many windows and the linoleum in the aisle and the +hard wood floor were waxed and polished until they +shone. In this place, cleanliness, fresh air, and sunshine +reigned.</p> + +<p>The beds were filled with pajama clad men. To the +embarrassed young girl it was as if she had blundered +into a man’s bedroom, and impulsively she turned to +flee.</p> + +<p>A cheery voice arrested her, and the nurse whom +she had met in the reception room on the previous day +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span> +greeted her. “I told you that I would meet you here.” +She smiled with a frank cordiality which instantly dissipated +the visitor’s embarrassment.</p> + +<p>Virginia knew now that she liked this young woman, +even though she was a great tease, so she answered the +smile with one of equal friendliness and told her, “It +is nice to find someone I know”; but instantly she referred +to the cause for her visit. “How is he?”</p> + +<p>“I think that we have his fever under control,” +laughed the nurse.</p> + +<p>“Now she is beginning to tease,” thought Virginia. +“I won’t notice it.”</p> + +<p>The nurse went on. “He is really getting along +fine. If I were you I shouldn’t give a moment’s worry +to that young man’s health. Don’t trouble to plan +your remarks to him, either. He won’t listen to them. +He does most of the talking.”</p> + +<p>The walk down the aisle between those beds, each +with its pair of masculine optics, was a trial for the +girl. It seemed miles. At last, safely by this gauntlet +of inquisitive male glances, she found herself looking +down into those same black eyes which had looked +into hers for a second out on Forest Avenue. Then +they were dazed with pain, now they were filled with +friendly inquiry.</p> + +<p>The nurse, Miss Knight, was direct and explicit. +“Joe,” she announced, “this is the young lady who +says that she put you here.”</p> + +<p>Joe accepted this surprising remark as a matter of +amusement which increased as the nurse went on.</p> + +<p>“Now she comes to soften the hard blows with tender +words and kind attentions.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span>Virginia blushed furiously. She thought Miss +Knight’s manner towards men distinctly common.</p> + +<p>A deep voice came from the bed. “I am very glad +to meet you and be able to thank you for what I have +been told you did for me, Miss Dale. That accident +was my hard luck.” He put his whole soul into his +smile of welcome and the girl knew that she liked it.</p> + +<p>Having endeavored to relieve his guest’s embarrassment, +he turned upon Miss Knight, the greatly delighted +cause of it, and adapted his manner and speech +to her case. “Say, sister, blow. Blow while the +breeze will toss you away. I haven’t noticed any invitations +for you to sit in on this peace conference.”</p> + +<p>The nurse flared at his words, although his smile +had tempered them. Drawing herself up, she made +answer with great dignity.</p> + +<p>“You don’t need to urge me not to hang around +while your wounds are being dressed with soothing lotions. +It’s not necessary to hit me with an automobile +to get me out of the way,” she exclaimed with +great sarcasm, and flounced away.</p> + +<p>“The gloom of night departs,” he chuckled, and, +turning dancing eyes upon his visitor, continued softly, +“and now comes dawn.”</p> + +<p>Virginia flushed again. “For all that you know, +it may be stormy,” she retorted, astonished at her own +glib tongue. The merry banter of the patient and +nurse had surprised her. She had been taught that +this sort of thing was vulgar. Yet, somehow, it didn’t +seem so dreadful. She suspected that she rather liked +it and was troubled by this symptom of innate depravity. +Now she became aware that those black eyes were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +studying her, and mischief gleamed in their depths.</p> + +<p>“Our meeting was very sudden yesterday,” he +laughed. “I didn’t have a chance to give you my card. +My name is Joseph Tolliver Curtis. Those who–” +he hesitated and then went on–“are my friends, call +me Joe.” Happiness radiated from him. He was so +good humored that it was contagious.</p> + +<p>The visitor beamed upon the patient. “My name +is Virginia Dale,” she explained.</p> + +<p>“I know it,” he admitted, and then, with the manner +of intense personal interest, he demanded, “Do +your friends–your intimate friends–by any chance +call you ‘Virge’?”</p> + +<p>“I should say not.” The girl’s eyes flashed as she +retorted, “They would hear from me.”</p> + +<p>“By letter,” he inquired, “or telephone?” In a +moment he continued, “I have it. You will sing to +them just as you are going to sing to me.”</p> + +<p>“Sing to you?”</p> + +<p>“Of course you are going to sing to me. Every +one who visits a hospital should sing. It was found +wonderfully soothing to the patients in the big army +hospitals during the war. After they had listened to +the performers they were more contented to endure +their suffering.”</p> + +<p>“They would have died on the spot if I’d sung,” +she answered.</p> + +<p>They both laughed in the exuberance of their youth +at their own nonsense until his injured ribs stopped +him and she became very serious.</p> + +<p>“I came, today–” her manner was almost shy–“to +tell you how sorry I am for that accident. It +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +makes me unhappy to think of you suffering here +through my fault.”</p> + +<p>“How can you blame yourself? You had nothing +at all to do with it,” he declared with great earnestness.</p> + +<p>“I told our chauffeur to hurry,” she explained, and +then with finality, “if he hadn’t, there would have +been no collision.”</p> + +<p>Again his injured ribs subdued his laughter. “If +everybody had stayed off the street, I wouldn’t have +been hurt. That’s your argument.” He studied her +face for a moment and then resumed. “Listen, I +am going to tell you a secret. Promise never to +tell.”</p> + +<p>“Honest,” she agreed.</p> + +<p>“I was running away over the speed limit. I must +have been going forty miles an hour.”</p> + +<p>Virginia became the custodian of his secret with +great calmness and solemnly confessed, “We were +running over the speed limit, too. Ike usually does. +He knows that I enjoy going fast. The speed limit +in this town is away too low, I think.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he concurred, “I wouldn’t have been hurt +worse if I had been running twice as fast. The point +is, that we could both be arrested and fined for speeding.”</p> + +<p>“They always arrest Ike,” she explained with complacency. +“He doesn’t care a bit. He’s used to it.” +Anxiety arose in her eyes. “Surely, they wouldn’t +arrest one as badly hurt as you?”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know that judge.” Joe spoke with experience. +“If they brought a dying man into his court +who had only fifty dollars to leave to his widow and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +children, that judge would take it from him for speeding. +That is, if he rode a motorcycle.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, the injustice of it. Doesn’t he care for motorcyclists?”</p> + +<p>“No,” asserted Joe with great forcefulness. “Nobody +likes a motorcyclist.”</p> + +<p>“I do,” proclaimed Virginia, and then, after taking +a moment to recover from the embarrassment of her +own outspokenness, she continued, “It’s not right. +They are entitled to equal justice,” as if enunciating a +newly discovered truth.</p> + +<p>“Sure, they are entitled to it, but they don’t get it. +That’s why I must keep quiet. My accident insurance +will take care of my hospital bills and my job will +keep.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you collect damages?” urged Virginia +with great gravity.</p> + +<p>“From whom?”</p> + +<p>After a moment’s consideration, she solved the legal +problem. “From me–that is, from my father, for +me.”</p> + +<p>At the reference to her father a change came in the +injured man. His good humor faded. “No,” he said +decidedly. “In the first place I wouldn’t accept money +from your father and in the second place he would not +give any.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know my father,” she said with pride. +“He is a very just man. Sometimes he’s gruff and a +little cross but he doesn’t mean anything by that. He +always wants to do the right and generous thing.” +Her face was alight with loyalty and admiration.</p> + +<p>“Does he?” There was a note of sarcasm in his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span> +voice which disappeared, and he said no more after he +had read her eyes.</p> + +<p>She misinterpreted the change in him. “I have +stayed too long,” she worried. “You are tired.” She +remembered the chicken. “I brought you something.” +She put the plate of fowl beside him.</p> + +<p>He viewed it in joyous anticipation. “Fine,” he +shouted. “If there is one thing I love, it is fried +chicken. How did you guess it?”</p> + +<p>She smiled at Miss Knight who had joined them. +“A bird told me,” she answered him.</p> + +<p>The nurse put her hands on her hips and viewed the +visitor with marked suspicion at this remark, but, as if +satisfied that her distrust was unfounded, she retired to +the diet kitchen from which hearty laughter immediately +thereafter resounded.</p> + +<p>“Good bye,” she told him almost shyly.</p> + +<p>His good spirits had returned. “You and I are +friends, and remember, we are always going to be +friends.”</p> + +<p>She nodded and said again, “Good bye, Mr. Curtis.”</p> + +<p>“My friends call me Joe,” he reminded her.</p> + +<p>Virginia hesitated, and then, “Good bye–Joe,” she +whispered and left the ward with a sweet little smile.</p> + +<p>In the hall Miss Knight rejoined her. “Before you +go I want to show you something which is our pride +and joy at the present moment,” she explained to the +girl. She opened a door and displayed a beautifully +furnished room which glistened in its cleanliness.</p> + +<p>“It is very attractive, but why is the room different?” +asked Virginia.</p> + +<p>The nurse pointed to a bronze tablet. It bore the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span> +name of the donor, one well known in South Ridgefield.</p> + +<p>“What a beautiful idea,” the girl exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it?” responded the nurse. “The gift includes +not only the furniture but the endowment of +the bed for five years.” She laughed. “The man +who gave it is ahead of the game. He was hurt in a +railroad accident and was here for a couple of months. +He sued the railroad company and collected more than +enough from them to do this.”</p> + +<p>Afterwards, by Virginia’s express wish, she was +taken to the nursery and permitted to hold a recently +arrived guest in her arms, who happened at the moment +to be awake. She was allowed to peek into the maternity +ward with its beds filled with women, and her +tour ended in the dispensary where she met Dr. Jackson +and a nurse who were busily engaged in caring for the +ailments of the sick babies the mothers brought in +from outside. At last she left for home, and on the +way she thought of this strange new world she had +been shown in this big brick building, but principally +she thought of a pair of black eyes that laughed and of +the gross injustices to which down trodden motorcyclists +were the victims.</p> + +<p>Later that afternoon, Miss Knight was very busy +among the shining utensils in the diet kitchen when she +was disturbed by another visitor.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon,” said a voice, “but could you +direct me to a patient? My name,” he continued +suavely, “is Wilkins–Hezekiah Wilkins.” He +wiped his bald head, and went on. “It’s very warm +today–extremely so.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span>“Sure, it’s warm,” agreed Miss Knight, “and this +electric heater makes it a darn sight warmer.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah intended to give the nurse a look of sympathetic +understanding, but ended by giving her a +friendly grin. “I comprehend your point of view,” +he added. “A trip to a pleasant resort would be more +agreeable, don’t you think?”</p> + +<p>Miss Knight viewed his words in the sense of a tentative +invitation and considered the merriment in his +eyes suspicious in one of his age. She froze and demanded +with the utmost frigidity, “Whom do you +wish to see?”</p> + +<p>Utterly innocent that he had all but persuaded this +sophisticated nurse that he was one of those aged +profligates of whom young women had best beware, +Hezekiah drew forth an envelope upon which he had +entered certain notes which he now found difficult to +decipher, and told her.</p> + +<p>She led the way and the lawyer followed through the +ranks of curious eyes. He vigorously mopped at his +shining cranium and held his inverted panama before +him as if taking a collection of errant drops of moisture +that they might not mar the polished floor. This +detracted from the dignity of Hezekiah’s progress.</p> + +<p>Seating himself by Joe Curtis’s bed, the attorney +gazed at the youth for a few moments in polite curiosity.</p> + +<p>The motorcyclist returned the look with one of undisguised +distrust.</p> + +<p>“My name is Hezekiah Wilkins,” announced the +lawyer when the mutual scrutiny had continued so long +that it threatened to become embarrassing. “I have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +reasons to believe that I am speaking to Mr. Joseph +Tolliver Curtis.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve got me, Steve,” responded Joe.</p> + +<p>“I’ve what?” inquired Hezekiah, much perplexed. +Light dawned upon him. “Oh, yes–quite so–assuredly,” +he indulged in a soft chuckle. “I am dense +at times. Slow might be better, eh?” Again he +chuckled. “Slow for the rising generations, particularly–” +he smiled genially at Joe–“when they ride +motorcycles.”</p> + +<p>Joe abated none of his vigilance. His policy was +that of watchful waiting.</p> + +<p>“The day is very warm,” continued Hezekiah, looking +about the ward with interest. “This is a delightfully +cool and pleasant place. You are to be congratulated +upon having such comfortable quarters in which +to recuperate.”</p> + +<p>“Say!” Joe’s voice was distinctly hostile. “Are +you the advertising agent for this hospital?”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah’s trained ear sensed unfriendliness abroad. +He changed his manner of approach with the quickness +of a skilled strategist. “Mr. Curtis,” he went on +briskly, “I represent Mr. Obadiah Dale. You have +no doubt heard of him?”</p> + +<p>Joe nodded.</p> + +<p>“Your motorcycle ran into Mr. Dale’s automobile +yesterday,” the lawyer resumed. “I do not come to +seek compensation for the injury to his car. I am delighted, +finding you as I do upon a bed of pain, to be +upon a much pleasanter mission.” Hezekiah smiled +benignantly. “There was a witness to the accident. +With some difficulty, I have located him and procured +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span> +his statement. While it may be conceded that this +person has no special skill or training in estimating the +speed of moving vehicles, he is” (the attorney’s manner +expressed assurance) “prepared to testify that +you were operating your machine at a speed in excess +of that permitted by law.” He paused as if awaiting +an incriminating admission.</p> + +<p>“Go on,” snapped Joe.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah continued with increased emphasis. “Assuming +this to be true, it appears that you were entirely +or in part responsible for the accident and the consequent +damage to Mr. Dale’s car and your own person.”</p> + +<p>“Not on your life,” cried Joe with great excitement. +“I have a witness who says the Dale car was +to blame for the accident and that it was exceeding the +speed limit.”</p> + +<p>“Surely.” Mr. Wilkins chuckled. “There are always +witnesses for both sides. My gracious, if this +were not true how could we have law suits? It’s the +reputation of a witness for truth and veracity which +counts in court, my boy.”</p> + +<p>“I know it.”</p> + +<p>“Admitting your witness,” Hezekiah resumed with +great cheerfulness, “the speed of your own machine is +certain to be the subject of controversy. My client has +no desire to enter into this. He waives it.” Hezekiah +likewise waved his glasses and then went on speaking +much more rapidly as one hurrying to be rid of a task +in which he has no heart. “My client not only waives +your personal responsibility and the material damage +suffered by him, but authorizes me, in his behalf, to +tender you this check in the sum of twenty-five dollars +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span> +to assist in the defrayment of your hospital expenses.”</p> + +<p>Joe Curtis’s eyes flashed with temper. “Obadiah +Dale and his money can go straight to the devil,” he +roared, in a voice which startled the entire ward and +made the lawyer jump.</p> + +<p>“Calm yourself, Sir,” urged Hezekiah. “Undue +excitement is injudicious in your physical condition. +Bless my soul, there may be grounds for differences +over the sum tendered, but I can see no reason for +intense anger.”</p> + +<p>Down the aisle came Miss Knight, stern of face. +“Say,” she demanded, “do you think that this is a +livery stable, Joe? If you do, you had better wake +up. That rough stuff doesn’t go around here. Do +you get me?”</p> + +<p>He gave her a most sheepish glance. “Sister,” he +began.</p> + +<p>The nurse’s eyes flashed. “Must I speak to you +again about that ‘sister’ habit. I won’t stand for it.” +She explained to the lawyer, “I not only have to nurse +these men but I have to teach them manners, too.”</p> + +<p>Before her righteous indignation, a great meekness +descended upon Joe. “I am sorry, Miss Knight. I +didn’t mean to start a rough house, only I–got mad.” +He smiled at her.</p> + +<p>She surrendered to his humility and that smile. She +adjusted his pillow and brushed the hair back from his +eyes with her hand. “You are a bad boy, Joe. I am +going to forgive you for this, but the next time you +start anything, you will be punished.” She shook a +threatening finger at him. “Do you understand?”</p> + +<p>“Yes’m,” he answered in the tone and manner of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span> +naughty small boy. He rolled his head towards the +lawyer. “I owe you an apology for losing my temper.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind, my boy,” said Hezekiah, who had +viewed the calming of the storm with relief. “A gale +clears the atmosphere. Plain speaking begets clear +understanding.” Resuming his glasses, the lawyer regarded +the youth with great friendliness, and, after a +moment, deemed it safe to go on. “You expressed +yourself so–ah–” (he sought for an inoffensive +term) “with such certainty of feeling that I assume +that you have determined upon some measure of adjustment +yourself.”</p> + +<p>Again Joe Curtis’s eyes flashed. “There can be no +adjustment between Obadiah Dale and me,” he answered +coldly.</p> + +<p>“No?” Hezekiah’s regret had the ring of sincerity. +“In a friendly spirit towards you, my boy,” he +urged, “I would advise against the development of an +hostile feeling towards Mr. Dale. He had no more to +do with that accident than the man in the moon.”</p> + +<p>“I know it,” admitted Joe.</p> + +<p>“The institution of an action at law is an expensive +proceeding. As a lawyer I warn you that the outcome +would be extremely uncertain. Who can tell what a +jury will do?” Hezekiah shook his head solemnly, +thereby registering his grave doubts of the action of +twelve men good and true.</p> + +<p>“Institute an action,” repeated Joe, his eyes dancing +with mischief. “Say, Uncle, when I sue that old +skate, it sure is going to be some case.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah waxed indignant. This may have been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span> +due either to Joe’s intimation of relationship to himself +or to the opprobrious designation of his client as an +old skate. “Don’t mislead yourself,” he exclaimed +peevishly. “You will be thrown out of court.”</p> + +<p>Joe ruffled visibly. “Who is going to throw me +out of court?” he demanded. “Obadiah Dale?” +Another idea struck him. He gave the lawyer a most +threatening and pugnacious glance. “Maybe you +think <i>you</i> can do it?”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah’s amazement at the suspicion that either he +or his client contemplated physical violence upon this +young giant, swathed in bandages, was extreme. +“Gorry diamonds, you must be crazy,” he gasped, and +then the other’s point of view came to him. He burst +into a big booming peal of honest amusement, an infectious +laugh which brought instant peace. “My +friend,” he chuckled, “you misunderstand me. I attempted +to suggest that in view of the evidence which +I can produce, a court would refuse to consider your +claim.”</p> + +<p>“Not with the witness I have,” Joe insisted.</p> + +<p>“Well, what about this wonderful witness of +yours?” chuckled Hezekiah, comfortable in the assurance +of holding the master hand.</p> + +<p>“My witness” (the calmness of his voice did not +quite conceal a note of exultation in it) “is Virginia +Dale.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span><a id='link_8'></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY</span></h2> + +<p>In the Dale home, dinner was served in the middle +of the day on Sunday, and Serena caused the meal to +partake of the nature of a banquet. Abstemious in +week day luncheons, Obadiah succumbed to the flesh +pots on the seventh day and thereafter relapsed into +slumber during digestion even as a boa-constrictor.</p> + +<p>He was sleeping off his Sunday engorgement in a +porch chair. His head drooped awkwardly and he had +slumped into his best clothes, while from time to time +he choked and coughed and made weird noises. All +about him lay the peace of a summer Sabbath broken +only by the low hum of the bees gathering sweetness +from the blooming honeysuckle vine near by. Only +the energetic resisted the combined attacks of plenteousness +and the somnolent afternoon.</p> + +<p>Virginia had not surrendered to the soporific tendencies +of the hour. She had conversed with her father +until made aware that, mentally speaking, he was no +longer with her. Such knowledge is discouraging even +to the most enthusiastic of female dialogists, and so, +as the minutes passed, her words lost force and her +sentences fire. Compelled to seek other fields of interest, +the girl strolled aimlessly about the lawn until +she came to the gate. The street looked cool and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span> +inviting beneath its arching elms and she moved down it +slowly. She had almost reached the corner when a +woman’s voice sounded from an awning shaded porch, +“Virginia, come here. Don’t you pass my house without +stopping.” It was Mrs. Henderson.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Hennie, I’m coming. I was sure that you +were taking a nap.” The girl turned up a walk, bordered +with blooming rose bushes, towards an old-fashioned +house. “You are as busy as usual, I suppose?” +she continued, after she had been affectionately greeted +by her hostess.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson nodded. No other woman in South +Ridgefield gave as much of her time and, proportionately, +of her wealth to help others as did this strangely +constituted widow. Hers was a frank nature, given +to the expression of its views without regard to time +or place. She had the faculty of so phrasing her remarks +that they cut their victim cruelly and convulsed +her hearers. So, respected for her innate goodness, +and feared for her sharp tongue, Mrs. Henderson had +many acquaintances but few friends. She was judged +in the light of a magazine of high explosives, dangerous +to those near, but likely to blow up if left without +attention. Many were her friends because they were +afraid not to be, but there were those who appreciated +her character. Strangely, these were they who had +waged mighty battles with her, to emerge from strife +her devoted adherents. Having felt her sting, they +dubbed her harmless as a dove, delighting in her intimate +companionship. Such a one had been Virginia’s +mother.</p> + +<p>But Obadiah had no place in this category. Soon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +after the death of his wife, Mrs. Henderson had discovered +that a girl who worked in his mill was sick and +in dire want. She asked him to assist the sufferer, +but, to her surprise, the mill owner refused. Thereupon, +Mrs. Henderson, without mincing words, expressed +her opinion of him. Also, she repeated her remarks +to a friend.</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s legs were thin, and under stress of excitement +he pitched his voice high. When it became +known that Mrs. Henderson had likened the mill owner, +to his face, to a mosquito sucking blood from his employees, +the whole town laughed. The tale spread to +his mill, during a time of labor unrest, and a cartoon +portraying the manufacturer as a mosquito hovering +about emaciated workers was circulated.</p> + +<p>A strike followed in which the employees were successful +and Obadiah never forgave Mrs. Henderson +for giving a weapon to his opponents. Yet, strangely +enough, he had never attempted to interfere with her +friendship for his daughter. Possibly, knowing the +widow, he feared that she would openly defy him, and, +abetted by Serena, carry the war into his own house, +to the greater enjoyment of his fellow townsmen.</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Henderson welcomed Virginia, she was +thinking of other things than Obadiah. She was filled +with amusement and gave vent to laughter. “Dearie, +how on earth did you get mixed up with that minstrel +parade? I never dreamed that my little girl would +startle this town.” Again the widow gave way to +merriment. She was thinking of a group of women +she had caught discussing with great unkindness the +outcome of the girl’s efforts to make the pickaninnies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span> +happy. Hennie’s championship of her favorite had +been unusually vigorous, and the endeavors of the +critics to reverse themselves had resembled a stampede.</p> + +<p>“We had nothing to do with the parade,” Virginia +told her. “We followed it so that the orphans might +enjoy the music. As we had nearly frightened them +out of their wits, I took them for a ride to make up.”</p> + +<p>“I heard how you came to take the orphans for a +ride. I could understand that, but the minstrel part +puzzled me,” Mrs. Henderson’s amusement faded into +seriousness. “That ride idea is a splendid one. It +would add so much to the happiness of those children.” +She continued, “I have been on the Board of +that Home for years. There are so many things to +be done over there and so little to do with. No one is +particularly interested in the place. We must find +some way, though, to arrange rides for those orphans +now that you have started things going.”</p> + +<p>Virginia was instantly fired with great enthusiasm. +“I’ll take them out each week, myself,” she promised.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson smiled. “We can’t allow you to +continue to excite too much interest in this town.”</p> + +<p>The girl disregarded the objection. “But I started +it, Hennie.”</p> + +<p>“That is very true, but you can’t expect your father +to let you use his fine car for those children. Anyway, +it is not necessary to bother about that, because it +is entirely too small. We need a truck. Something in +which movable seats can be placed.”</p> + +<p>“Like those at the mill? Why not ask Daddy for +one of them?” suggested Virginia.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span>“They would be the very thing,” Mrs. Henderson +admitted, but she shook her head hopelessly. “Your +father would never let you have one of them. We +must look elsewhere.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, he will, Hennie,” Virginia assured her +with great confidence. The widow’s doubting eye +moved the girl to remonstrate, “You don’t know him +at all. I think that it is the strangest thing, that you +have been my father’s neighbor all of these years and +don’t understand him better.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson displayed sudden stern-eyed interest +in a flower bed upon her lawn, and the toe of her +shoe softly tapped the floor of the porch.</p> + +<p>The girl leaned towards the older woman, her face +aglow with pride and admiration, as she searched for +some acknowledgment of her words. “Daddy is so +noble and so good,” she explained in a voice modulated +by tenderness. “He spends all of his time thinking +about other people.”</p> + +<p>The lines of Mrs. Henderson’s mouth relaxed, and +the tempo of the tapping toe slowed. Her eyes twinkled +merrily.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it wonderful, Hennie?” and Virginia looked +up to a face for a moment puzzled.</p> + +<p>“Very wonderful, child,” responded the widow, and +Virginia never dreamed that there was a delicate note +of sarcasm in the voice. Leaning forward, Mrs. Henderson +clasped the girl’s hand. “Your father is a +lucky man to have such love and affection,” she said, +and then as though thinking aloud, she murmured, +“I hope that he appreciates it.” After a pause she +returned to the subject of the orphans with great vigor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +“Some one in this town must loan us a truck. That +is all there is about it.”</p> + +<p>“Let Daddy do it. He will love to.”</p> + +<p>The hopeful enthusiasm of the girl was lost upon the +older woman. “Well, it will do no harm to give him +the opportunity,” she conceded dryly; “but I wouldn’t +count on it too much if I were you.” Suddenly, she +remembered something. “Dear me, I almost forgot +it. I must run over to the Lucinda Home a minute. +You come along, dear,” she urged.</p> + +<p>“Hennie, I can’t. I haven’t a hat. I am not +dressed to go out.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson smiled. “It doesn’t make any difference +what you wear over there. Most of the old +ladies are so nearly blind that they can’t tell what you +have on.”</p> + +<p>So Virginia agreed to go, and, as the distance to the +institution was short, in a few minutes they entered +the grounds.</p> + +<p>The Lucinda Home for Aged Women occupied a +large brick building. A triple-decked porch, supported +by posts and brackets of ornamental iron work +covered the entire front of the edifice and afforded delightful +resting places from which to view the beautiful +grounds.</p> + +<p>The two women ascended the steps to the lower +porch. On either side of the entrance stretched a line +of chairs occupied by old ladies. They rocked and +fanned and stared across the grounds with dulled, unseeing +eyes, as if watching and waiting for something.</p> + +<p>The afternoon light flashed against the spectacles. +It brought out the snow of the moving heads. It +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span> +showed the deep carved lines of age and it disclosed +the hands, knotted and toil worn.</p> + +<p>Once these faces were soft and full; these eyes +snapped with health and joy. Love showered its +kisses. The world showed wondrously beautiful in +the tender light of romance and the voice of hope rang +clear and strong. Came babies for these hands to +fondle and caress, and tiny forms to be upheld as little +feet struggled in first steps upon the rough and hilly +path. Noble deeds of unselfishness gleamed in the +shadowed lives of these women as they battled with the +adversities which all who live must face. Slowly their +beauty faded; their eyes no longer sparkled; their +hands were red and hard. Little ones grew into men +and women and went away, filled with hope and proud +in their strength, leaving loneliness behind. Through +the years, a shadow, almost indiscernible to youthful +eyes, drew ever closer. One by one, they had seen +friends and loved ones pass behind the black veil, until +they were alone in a world, cold, loveless, without hope, +waiting<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span></p> + +<p>Waiting. Yes, waiting–slowly rocking and fanning–living +anew the past, and peering out into the +sunshine as if they sought with their poor eyes to +glimpse the approach of that enfolding shadow of mystery.</p> + +<p>The visitors paused for a moment at the entrance, +sobered by the tragedy of age. Near them, an old +woman became suddenly active. The sweep of her +chair increased as she glanced at Virginia. She +stopped and whispered to her neighbor.</p> + +<p>This aged one started, as if awakened from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span> +slumber, and she, too, inspected the girl. Then, she placed +her lips by the ear of her deaf companion and in a +shrill voice of great carrying power, cried, “Powder +makes her look pale. They all use it nowadays.” She +stopped for breath and screamed, “Her dress is too +short. Her mother ought to have better sense than to +let her run around that way.”</p> + +<p>Luckily for the embarrassed girl, at this moment +Mrs. Henderson led her into the reception room and +left her to regain her composure while she transacted +her business with the matron in an adjoining room.</p> + +<p>The remarkable quiet which reigned in this home of +age oppressed Virginia, so that when Mrs. Henderson +returned with the matron, she cried, impulsively, “Oh, +Hennie, I am glad that you are back. This place is so +still that it is lonesome.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson turned to Mrs. Smith, the matron. +“That is what I have always said,” she argued. “The +old ladies like it quiet, but we overdo it here. The +place is a grave. We should have more entertainment.” +She looked questioningly at the girl. “What +do you think should be done, child?”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s blue eyes were very serious as she answered, +“I hardly know–almost anything which +would make it happier. It needs something to stir it +up,” she ended impulsively.</p> + +<p>The older woman laughed and Mrs. Henderson put +her arm about the girl’s waist, and suggested, “You +have nothing on your hands, child. Why can’t you +arrange some sort of an entertainment for these elderly +women?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I couldn’t,” she demurred shyly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span>“Certainly you can, you are quite old enough to +undertake the task of making these old people happier +for an afternoon.”</p> + +<p>Into the girl’s mind came a remembrance of her +birthday gift. “I will be glad to do it, Hennie,” she +agreed with great seriousness.</p> + +<p>They paused at Mrs. Henderson’s gate as they returned +from the Lucinda Home. “Won’t you come +in, dear?” urged the older woman.</p> + +<p>The girl, dreamily engaged in planning marvelous +but impossible entertainments for the stirring up of +the old ladies, did not hear.</p> + +<p>“Come and have tea with a solitary somebody?” +the widow begged the girl wistfully. “You think that +the Lucinda Home is lonesome, but don’t forget that +an old lady who loved your mother and who loves you +is lonesome, too.”</p> + +<p>“Dearest Hennie, you haven’t the slightest idea of +what loneliness is.” Virginia smiled sweetly at the +older woman and kissed her. “I would enjoy taking +tea with you but I must not forget my father. Probably +all afternoon he has been making plans to help +the people who work in his mill. I think he is so like +my mother–always trying to make other people happier. +You loved her, Hennie, and you know him. I +want you to help me to be unselfish like them.”</p> + +<p>During this recital, Mrs. Henderson underwent a +severe test in self-repression, the high praise of Obadiah’s +disinterestedness nearly causing severe internal +injury. There was yet an ominous flash in her eye +as she bade the girl farewell.</p> + +<p>Virginia found her father awaiting her. His +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span> +digestive organs were protesting by certain unpleasant +twinges, against the extra work he had forced upon +them.</p> + +<p>“Where have you been?” he demanded of her +sharply.</p> + +<p>She dropped into the chair by his side. “At Mrs. +Henderson’s, Daddy.”</p> + +<p>“You left me alone,” he complained.</p> + +<p>“You went to sleep and I was so lonesome, Daddy +dear.”</p> + +<p>“That makes no difference. You should not have +left me. You have the week days to yourself. I ought +to have your Sundays.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am sorry that I was so thoughtless,” Virginia +reproached herself, with a suspicion of tears in +her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Yes, you were thoughtless,” Obadiah grumbled. +“You must learn to think of others. Don’t get teary. +That always disturbs me.”</p> + +<p>Virginia was engaged in a battle to keep back her +tears when the notes of a ragtime melody resounded +through the calm of the Sabbath evening. Ike approached. +The gorgeousness of his apparel eliminated +every variety of lily, except the tiger, from consideration. +His suit was of electric blue. His shirt was +white, broadly striped with royal purple, and it peeped +modestly from beneath a tie of crimson. His hat was +straw, decorated with a sash of more tints than the +bow of promise.</p> + +<p>Ike was happy. He had loitered through the afternoon +before the meeting house of his faith, impressing +the brethren and the sisters with the magnificence +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span> +of his attire. He deemed it, socially speaking, to have +been a perfect day.</p> + +<p>It was now his intention to partake of refreshment +before returning again into the shadow of the sacred +edifice, not then, however, to give pleasure to the faithful +in general, but rather for the special and particular +delight of an amber hued maiden who at the moment +held his flitting fancy.</p> + +<p>Filled with pleasant anticipations and in cadence +with his melody, Ike approached the house.</p> + +<p>Obadiah arose hastily as the sweet tones struck his +ear and awaited the arrival of the musical one at the +edge of the porch.</p> + +<p>At the sight of the gaunt form of the manufacturer, +a dulcet timbre departed from Ike’s performance and +as he approached, the volume of sound diminished in +proportion to the square of the distance. Opposite the +mill owner it ceased.</p> + +<p>“Good evening Misto Dale.” The voice was humbly +courteous.</p> + +<p>Disdaining the kindly salutation of his hireling, Obadiah +made outcry. “I want the car. Get the car,” he +commanded.</p> + +<p>Ike halted.</p> + +<p>These were portentous words. The Dale car was +not often used on the seventh day. Ike himself +was opposed to the Sunday riding habit. Assuming a +confidential attitude towards his employer as if imparting +a secret of moment, he intimated, “Ah ain’ +got no confidence in dat lef’ han’ hin’ tiah, Misto Dale, +a tall.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah glared at the tasty garb of his minion with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span> +disgust, and flew into a rage. “I pay you to put confidence +in that tire,” he bleated.</p> + +<p>“Yas’r, yas’r,” Ike surrendered hurriedly. “Ah +gwine pump er li’l aiah in dat tiah. Dat fix ’im.”</p> + +<p>When Ike, shorn of his finery, returned with the +car, Virginia, in obedience to an abrupt invitation +from her father, was prepared to join him for the +ride.</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s conscience did not usually trouble him; +but today, as the machine started and he settled himself +by his daughter, it struck him that she seemed unusually +pale. He could not well overlook, either, the +note of sadness which had played about the girl’s mouth +and eyes since his remarks to her. These things made +Obadiah uncomfortable. His explosion at Ike had +acted as a counter-irritant to his indigestion, and he +felt relieved.</p> + +<p>They passed a woman driving a pretty runabout. +In times of great good feeling Obadiah had avowed +his intention of purchasing Virginia a light car which +she could drive herself. However, it took direct affirmative +action to persuade the mill owner to open +his check book even for his own family; and, as Virginia +had been contented with the big car and Ike to +drive it, nothing had ever come of the intention.</p> + +<p>“Did you notice that runabout?” Obadiah inquired. +“How would one of that type suit you?” If he could +get Virginia to chatter along as usual, he could enjoy +his evening.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’d like it,” she exclaimed. The girl was +thinking rapidly. Not for nothing was she Obadiah’s +daughter when it was necessary to take advantage of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span> +situation. “I thought that you had given up the idea +of getting me a car, Daddy.”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed. It seemed to me that you were not +particularly interested in one.” He shrewdly placed +the responsibility for delay upon her.</p> + +<p>“I am <i>now</i>. More so than ever,” Virginia declared. +“I wasn’t sure before what kind of a car I wanted. +Now I know.”</p> + +<p>“Well?” Obadiah’s enthusiasm in the proposed +purchase had cooled as hers increased.</p> + +<p>She squeezed his arm up against her and announced +breathlessly, “I want a truck, Daddy.”</p> + +<p>“A truck!” Obadiah viewed his daughter as if he +deemed the immediate attentions of an alienist essential +in her case. “What on earth would you do with +a truck?”</p> + +<p>“I need it to take those colored orphans out for a +ride each week,” she explained, full of the plan. “I +am going to have benches made to fit on each side of +the truck so that it will take them all comfortably. +Isn’t it a fine idea?”</p> + +<p>Obadiah, dumfounded for the moment, regained +speech and sought information as one who had not +heard aright. “Do you mean to say that you want +me to buy a truck to haul those negro children around +town?”</p> + +<p>“Yah–yah–yah.” Upon the front seat, Ike so +far forgot the proprieties of his station that he gave +vent to noisy merriment at the domestic perplexities of +gentlefolk.</p> + +<p>“Keep your mind on your business,” Obadiah commanded, +glaring at his chauffeur’s neck.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span>Virginia, disregarding the <i>faux pas</i> of the chauffeur +and its condign reproof, proceeded to explain her plans. +“We have decided, Daddy, that those orphans must be +taken for a ride every week.”</p> + +<p>“Who has decided that?”</p> + +<p>“Hennie and I have worked it all out.”</p> + +<p>“What has that woman got to do with it?” he +snapped. “Does she expect me to buy trucks to haul +all the negro children in town on pleasure trips?”</p> + +<p>Violent paroxysms beset Ike and bent him as a sapling +in a gale.</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s eyes glared at the black neck as if, discharging +X-rays, they might expose the chauffeur’s +malady.</p> + +<p>Heedless of disturbing influences, Virginia went on, +“Hennie thought that this car was too small. She felt +that it would be better to get a truck which would +carry all the orphans than to use this.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” interjected Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“I suggested to her that I would get you to loan us +a truck from the mill; but Hennie said that she was +sure that you wouldn’t let us have it.”</p> + +<p>“Ahem–ahem,” choked the mill owner, getting red +in the face.</p> + +<p>“I told her that I knew you would be glad to let us +have it because you did so love to help people,” explained +Virginia with great pride.</p> + +<p>Obadiah shifted uneasily in his seat. “What did +she say?”</p> + +<p>“Hennie said that she wished me success.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah relaxed as one relieved from strain.</p> + +<p>Sensing the change in him, Virginia cuddled up to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span> +her father full of happiness and contentment as if the +purchase of the truck was settled. “Isn’t it sweet, +Daddy dear,” she murmured gently, “within an hour +after I talked to Hennie you offer to buy me a car? +Of course, you don’t care, so long as I am satisfied, +whether I choose a runabout or a truck.” She took his +hand and held it in her own, pressing it.</p> + +<p>Obadiah appeared greatly interested in something +upon the skyline.</p> + +<p>“A truck,” Virginia continued thoughtfully, “especially +a fine large one such as we would need–” Obadiah +flinched–“would be in the way. Our garage +wouldn’t hold it and Serena would object to it being +left in the yard.” She arrived at a sudden determination. +“Choose, Daddy, whether you will buy me a +truck or loan me one from the mill.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s response was not delayed. “You had +better use a mill truck,” he agreed with a sigh which +might have been of relief.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Daddy. I can hardly wait to tell +Hennie,” she exclaimed, highly delighted at the outcome +of her efforts.</p> + +<p>Obadiah leaned towards his chauffeur. “Ike,” he +ordered, “you get the new truck down at the mill, the +first thing in the morning. Run it out to Mrs. Henderson’s +house. Make all the row around her place you +wish. Tell her,” Obadiah continued, “that it is there +by my instructions, to take those negro orphans riding.” +He paused. “Ike,” he resumed more forcibly, +“don’t you forget the noise.”</p> + +<p>“Yas’r,” promised Ike with happy smiles of anticipation.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span>“That will be a dandy joke on Hennie,” giggled +Virginia. “Go very early, Ike.”</p> + +<p>They were following a boulevard which now brought +them to the Soldiers’ Home. Its fine buildings and +large acreage were matters of great pride to South +Ridgefield. As they approached the central group of +edifices, they heard music.</p> + +<p>“Let’s stop for the band concert,” suggested Virginia.</p> + +<p>Obadiah, much relieved physically and mentally from +recent disquietude, was unusually complaisant. +“Drive in, Ike,” he directed.</p> + +<p>They turned into a broad, paved road which followed +the sides of a square about which were located +the principal buildings of the institution. It bounded +a tree shaded park with a band-stand in the center. +Walks radiating to the sides and corners of the square +were lined with benches occupied by veterans in campaign +hats and blue uniforms, smoking, chatting, and +enjoying the music.</p> + +<p>The inner edge of the roadway was lined with automobiles +full of visitors. Ike stopped upon the opposite +side, in front of the quarters of the Commanding +Officer.</p> + +<p>Hardly had they paused when a tall, fine looking +man of a distinctly military bearing, despite his white +hair, hurried out to meet them.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Dale,” he greeted the manufacturer in a big +booming voice, “I am glad to welcome you to the +Home.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah genially returned the salutation of Colonel +Ryan. That officer, being a man of rank, in charge of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span> +the Soldiers’ Home, with power of recommendation in +government purchases, was one whose acquaintance it +was wise for even wealthy mill owners to cultivate.</p> + +<p>When presented to Virginia, the Colonel bowed +deeply. “I want you to come up to the house and +meet Mrs. Ryan,” he urged. “You can hear the music +more comfortably there. I am proud of my band. +They are old fellows like you and me, Dale, but give +them a horn and they have lots of musical ‘pep’ left.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ryan met them at the head of the porch steps. +“You have often heard me speak of Mr. Dale,” the +Colonel, discreetly noncommittal as to his manner of +speaking, reminded her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, and I have heard of you, too.” She +smiled at Virginia and explained to Obadiah, “I happen +to have a good friend in that splendid Mrs. Henderson, +your neighbor.”</p> + +<p>The mill owner received this information with little +enthusiasm, but, learning that Mrs. Ryan was a victim +of rheumatism, he advocated the use of a liniment prepared +by his father and applied with remarkable results +to both man and beast. Obadiah was hazy upon the +mixture’s ingredients but was clear upon its curative +qualities. Mrs. Ryan evincing marked interest, the +manufacturer entertained her with the intimate details +of miraculous recoveries.</p> + +<p>Neither Virginia nor the Colonel being rheumatic, +they failed to give Obadiah’s discourse the rapt interest +of a true brother in pain. Their attention wavered, +wandered and failed, and the band played a crashing +air; but the rheumatic heeded not.</p> + +<p>All hope of a general conversation having departed, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span> +the Colonel praised his band to Virginia. “Every man +in that organization is over sixty years old,” he +bragged. “They get as much pleasure out of playing +as their audience does from their concert. It’s a great +band.”</p> + +<p>“They <i>do</i> play well,” the girl agreed. “I don’t +wonder that you are proud of them. I love a brass +band, myself. You do, too, Colonel Ryan. I can tell +by your face, when they play.”</p> + +<p>The Colonel grinned boyishly. “Yes,” he admitted, +“I think a band is one of humanity’s boons. I can’t +get close enough to one, when they are playing, to satisfy +me. I have to have some sort of an excuse to do +that, now-a-days–you’ll do fine–let’s go nearer.”</p> + +<p>The medical lecture was disturbed, that the audience +might nod understandingly to its husband, as they departed.</p> + +<p>The Colonel chatted gaily. In the presence of a +pretty woman he was a typical soldier. About them +were the benches filled with the white headed veterans, +as they entered the square. But a few years and these +had been the fighting men of the country–its defence–playing +parts modest or heroic on a hundred +half forgotten battle fields. Now, they, too, bowed +with age, rested in their years, and waited–waited +calmly, as true soldiers should, with the taste of good +tobacco upon their lips and the blare of martial music +in their ears, the coming of the ever nearing shadow.</p> + +<p>“Why have I never heard this band down town, +Colonel Ryan? It is a shame when they play so beautifully. +Do they charge for concerts?” asked Virginia, +as an idea developed behind the blue eyes.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span>“People want young and handsome men to play for +them if they pay for it,” laughed Colonel Ryan. “So +my old codgers don’t get many chances of that sort.”</p> + +<p>“Who has charge of the band?” Virginia’s manner +meant business.</p> + +<p>The Colonel loved a pretty face. He was enjoying +himself. “Do you want to object to the leader about +his interpretation of a favorite air?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t tease, Colonel Ryan,” she protested. “I +want to know who has authority to make engagements +for the band. Please be serious.”</p> + +<p>“You frighten me into submission, Miss Dale. Do +you wish to engage the band?”</p> + +<p>“I do, Colonel Ryan.” The girl’s voice was almost +imploring.</p> + +<p>He looked down into the depths of the pleading eyes. +Never in his long life had he refused a pretty woman +anything, and it is doubtful if he could have done so. +Yet, he desired to prolong the pleasure of the moment. +“May I ask, without undue curiosity, for what purpose +you desire the organization?”</p> + +<p>“I want them to give a concert for the old ladies +at the Lucinda Home,” she explained.</p> + +<p>Colonel Ryan choked. He recovered himself +quickly. Military training is of value in difficult moments.</p> + +<p>“I was over there this afternoon, Colonel Ryan. +The place was so lonesome that I thought it needed +some excitement. They asked me to give an entertainment. +Your band would be the very thing. It plays +so loud that even the deaf ladies could hear.”</p> + +<p>He who had borne the burden of a regiment of men +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span> +bowed sympathetically, but his face and neck displayed +symptoms of apoplexy.</p> + +<p>“The Lucinda Home is a graveyard, Colonel Ryan. +When I see all of these old men sitting around and +talking and smoking while the band plays lively airs +to them, it makes me sorry for those women. I should +love to live here. But I should die over there. It is +dreadful to be lonesome.”</p> + +<p>Colonel Ryan agreed with great gravity.</p> + +<p>Virginia waxed forceful. “Those old ladies should +be made as happy as these soldiers,” she argued. +“Isn’t a woman as good as a man, Colonel Ryan?”</p> + +<p>The Commandant by his silence refused this challenge +to a discussion upon woman’s rights.</p> + +<p>“Those old ladies should have everything that these +men have,” maintained the girl, with great emphasis.</p> + +<p>“Including tobacco?” suggested the Colonel solicitously.</p> + +<p>“Of course not.” Blue eyes snapped indignantly.</p> + +<p>The boyish look was back in the Colonel’s face. “I +only wanted to be sure,” he explained soberly. “It +has a very important place here.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Colonel Ryan, you will joke, and I am so in +earnest.” Her eyes were dark and tender and a soft +pink flushed her cheeks. “A concert at the Lucinda +Home would be a wonderful thing if I could get your +band.”</p> + +<p>“You can,” the Colonel promised, laconically, “and +it won’t cost you a cent.” He became enthusiastic, “It +will be a fine treat for the old ladies and my boys will +enjoy it, too. I’ll have to warn the old rascals about +flirting,” he chuckled. “They think that they are +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span> +regular devils among the ladies. I think that I will have +to come along myself to keep the old boys from breaking +any ancient hearts.”</p> + +<p>“Will you come, Colonel Ryan?”</p> + +<p>“Surely. You may count on me. Are there to be +refreshments?”</p> + +<p>“Why–yes!” She had never given a thought to +them before, and when she considered the food that it +would take it almost frightened her.</p> + +<p>“My old boys can eat as well as ever, particularly if +it is soft stuff. That band has less teeth than any +similar organization in the world. It is the toothless +wonder,” chuckled the Colonel. “Be sure that you +have plenty to eat.”</p> + +<p>As they ascended the steps of the Colonel’s porch, +Virginia warned him, “Don’t mention the concert to +my father. I want to surprise him.”</p> + +<p>They found that Obadiah had exhausted his praises +of the marvelous liniment. Mrs. Ryan was now talking, +and, though the subject-matter was the same, the +mill owner was not a reciprocal listener. He felt that +an immediate departure for home was necessary.</p> + +<p>The Dale car rolled away from the Soldiers’ Home, +leaving the Commanding Officer standing, hat in hand, +upon the curb. A broad smile broke over his face. +“A band concert at the Lucinda Home,” he chuckled. +“You might as well give one out in the cemetery.” +His face softened. “Bless her heart,” he whispered, +as he turned back towards his house.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span><a id='link_9'></a>CHAPTER IX<br /><span class='h2fs'>HEZEKIAH HAS A SOLUTION</span></h2> + +<p>Mr. Jones had finished transcribing Obadiah Dale’s +morning dictation and awaited a fitting moment to +place the letters before the manufacturer to receive +his signature. Meanwhile, he smoked a cigarette and, +with his face sadly distorted on account of the smoke, +manicured his nails with his pocket knife.</p> + +<p>This important part of a gentleman’s toilet would +gladly have been left by Mr. Jones to a professional +manicurist, because of the more skilled attention and +the valuable social privileges attached to such services, +had not the chronically depleted condition of his purse +demanded the exercise of rigorous economy.</p> + +<p>In the glare of the pendant bulb, Kelly was engaged +artistically in the preparation of a crude but libelous +cartoon of the stenographer.</p> + +<p>A moment of rest and mental relaxation had descended +upon the personal staff of Obadiah. His hive +of commercial industry had, for the moment, ceased +to buzz. Suddenly, the hall door was thrown open. +Mr. Jones suffered a severe laceration from the point +of his own blade. Even the artistic soul of Kelly was +shaken by the abrupt intrusion.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah Wilkins entered. His manner was hurried. +Not as a messenger bearing joyous news of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +great triumphs, but rather as an emissary charged +with intelligence of bitter flavor, who desires to get +rid of it, that he may turn to happier matters.</p> + +<p>Having been courteously advised by the bleeding +outer guard that the manufacturer was not engaged at +the moment, Hezekiah entered the inner citadel. +Obadiah was reading a voluminous mass of typewritten +pages which he laid aside at the coming of his attorney. +Waving the lawyer to a chair, he intimated +that he awaited the further pleasure of his legal adviser.</p> + +<p>Seating himself, Hezekiah shoved both of his feet +as far in front of him as his short legs would permit. +He studied the aspect of his shoes thus presented, as +if he had never before appreciated their beauty.</p> + +<p>“Well?” Obadiah spoke curtly.</p> + +<p>“I wish to discuss the matter of that young man in +the hospital. Curtis is his name–I think.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” Obadiah agreed.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah placed his palms together and gazed upwards +as if in pious meditation upon the words which +he was about to utter.</p> + +<p>Obadiah viewed the attitude of his adviser with +disapprobation. “Go ahead,” he urged roughly. +“Don’t take all day.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer gave his employer a look of reproof. +“It is very important,” he announced with great calmness, +“that legal matters be accurately presented so +that the facts deduced shall afford a sound basis for +correct judgment when appearing in court.” Hezekiah +explained with dignity. “I have found that a moment +given to the correct logical presentation of facts tends +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +to expedite a just solution of perplexing questions.” +As he ceased speaking, he appeared to drift away into +a condition of deep cogitation under the very eyes of +his employer.</p> + +<p>Before this display of profound thought, Obadiah +was helpless. Properly chastened, he awaited in patience +the outcome of the mental processes of his learned +subordinate.</p> + +<p>After a period in which no sound was heard but the +ticking of the clock, Hezekiah recovered from his abstraction +with a start, and announced, “This young +Curtis refuses to accept your check.”</p> + +<p>“Bigger fool he,” Obadiah responded with indifference.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah turned sharply upon the mill owner, “I +don’t agree with you at all,” he rapped.</p> + +<p>Obadiah had great confidence in the judgment of +his legal adviser. There had been times when failing +to follow it had cost him money. He became uneasy. +“Do you think that he has a case against me?”</p> + +<p>“I would rather have his chances before a jury than +yours.”</p> + +<p>“Is he going to bring suit?” Obadiah’s uneasiness +increased. He did not care to be at the mercy +of a South Ridgefield jury. He usually was stuck.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it’s my opinion that he intends to bring an +action against you. He displayed marked animus.”</p> + +<p>“He displayed what?”</p> + +<p>“Animus–unfriendliness,” Hezekiah interpreted.</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s uneasiness affected his temper. “Why +don’t you speak English?” he demanded, the pitch of +his voice getting higher.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span>For an instant there was a flash in Hezekiah’s eyes +but when he spoke he was perfectly calm. “I beg +pardon, I failed to make allowances for–your understanding.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah regarded his attorney angrily but made no +reply. Years of experience had warned him against +verbal combat with this man. Usually he did not +awaken to the danger until he rankled under one of +Hezekiah’s darts.</p> + +<p>Disregarding the exchange of compliments, the lawyer +went on, perfectly unruffled, “Is there a reason for +this young man to entertain ill will against you?”</p> + +<p>“I never heard of the fellow before,” protested +Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“Is he acquainted with your daughter?”</p> + +<p>“No.” Obadiah hesitated after his denial and +modified it. “She helped to take him to the hospital +and she has visited him since, I understand.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” Comprehension lighted Hezekiah’s face. +“You told me,” he suggested, “that your daughter +considered herself to be to blame for the accident.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Obadiah agreed with reluctance. “Virginia +has a silly idea that she was at fault. She felt +very badly over the matter.”</p> + +<p>“And went to the hospital to express her regret and +conceded responsibility for the accident to the injured +man. He told me that he could rely on your daughter +as a witness in his behalf.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be hanged,” cried Obadiah, the tone of his voice +reminding one of Hennie’s likening of him to a mosquito.</p> + +<p>“You’ll be stung with a fat verdict if he gets you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span> +into court with your own daughter testifying against +you. That’s what will happen to you. Probably she +admitted responsibility in the presence of witnesses,” +Hezekiah pointed out with deepest pessimism.</p> + +<p>“I won’t have my daughter dragged into court as +a witness against me,” groaned Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“How are you going to stop it? Ship her out of +the state?” Hezekiah suggested with a promptness +which displayed unethical resourcefulness in the suppression +of embarrassing witnesses.</p> + +<p>“Can’t you arrange a compromise?” begged +Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“Not after this mistake.” Hezekiah returned the +check for twenty-five dollars. “I’m as popular as a +mouse in a pantry with that young fellow after attempting +to pass that on him.” He gave the mill +owner a glance of curiosity. “How far would you +let me go now?”</p> + +<p>“Use your own judgment, only keep Virginia out +of court.”</p> + +<p>Both men were silent for a time and then the lawyer +spoke. “I tried to sound young Curtis. I endeavored +to discover if he had any settlement in mind. All +I found was a pronounced hostility to you personally +and,” Hezekiah smiled reminiscently, “to me as your +representative.”</p> + +<p>“That’s your imagination,” exclaimed Obadiah and +then, after the custom of a malefactor of great wealth, +went on, “How can we get at him? He must be got +at.”</p> + +<p>“I might suggest something–,” Hezekiah appeared +doubtful, lacking in his usual assurance.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span>It irritated Obadiah to have this man upon whose +judgment he had staked his fortune display indecision +in this trivial affair. “Out with it! What’s the matter +with you? Have you got cold feet?” he stormed.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah chuckled. “This case is complicated. +The other side is most unfriendly. It’s pretty hard +to keep out of court when the other fellow wants to +put you there,” he argued, “I believe that I see a way +if you will give me full authority to make such settlement +as I deem advisable and,” Hezekiah shifted uneasily, +“allow me the assistance of counsel.”</p> + +<p>“Hezekiah Wilkins, have you gone crazy? Do +you mean to ask me to hire another lawyer to help +you in this insignificant automobile case?” groaned +Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t asked you to employ a lawyer. I asked +for counsel.”</p> + +<p>“For the love of Mike, whose counsel do you require +in this tempest in a teapot?” shouted the exasperated +mill owner.</p> + +<p>“I wish, with your permission, to ask your daughter +Virginia to be of counsel.”</p> + +<p>“Thunderation,” bawled Obadiah, shrilly, exploding +with pent up aggravation. “Have you gone out of +your wits?” He surveyed the lawyer as if he really +believed his legal mentality to be addled. “Can’t I +get it into your head–” he cast a look of utter contempt +at the massive cranium of the lawyer–“that +my interest in this case is to keep my daughter out of +court? If it wasn’t for her, I’d let that brittle shanked +motorcycling ass sue until they grow bananas in +Canada.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span>“Your verbal pyrotechnics are interesting but hardly +germane to the subject,” Hezekiah reproved his employer. +“I have no intention of dragging your daughter +into court in the guise of a Portia, although her +beauty would<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s temper was on edge. “Come to the point, +sir,” he demanded. “Cut out the hot air. My time +is worth money.”</p> + +<p>For a moment Hezekiah gazed thoughtfully out of +a window making strange gestures with his glasses. +Then, turning to the mill owner he smilingly agreed. +“As much valuable time has been utilized by you in +prolix descriptions, possibly amusing, assuredly slanderous +and not tending in the slightest degree to shed +light upon our problem, I admit a necessity for expedition.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah viewed his attorney with wrathful eyes +but remained silent.</p> + +<p>Even under the angry eyes of his employer a benignant +look lighted the countenance of the lawyer and +his voice was very gentle as he resumed, “It’s an old +adage–‘Youth will be served.’ In its arrogance, +youth defies the wisdom of age and the judgment of +the ages. In its careless irresponsibility, it knows not +danger. In its assurance and self-confidence it knows +not fear. Clad in the armor of health, it basks in the +sunshine of its strength and blatantly rejoices in its +hopes.”</p> + +<p>“Hezekiah Wilkins, are you sick, or what in the +devil is the matter with you?” inquired the overwrought +manufacturer.</p> + +<p>“No, not sick, Obadiah,” Hezekiah explained +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +placidly, “not sick, but happy–happy in that thought–a +distinctly attractive one, and exceptionally well-developed +for your benefit. I regret,” the lawyer lamented, +“that a stenographer was not present to preserve +it. It is a pity that the world should lose it–that +it should be lost to those who would understand +and appreciate it–even love it.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah sank deep into his chair, encircled by gloom, +as, appreciating his inability to direct the train of his +legal adviser’s thought, he allowed that worthy to pursue +his own course.</p> + +<p>“Youth calls to youth,” the sentimental Hezekiah +continued. “Youth understands youth. Youth can +persuade youth.” Suddenly the attorney seemed to +thrust aside the gentle atmosphere in which he had been +immersed, and, fixing a most crafty look upon Obadiah, +he snapped, “You and I can’t handle that fellow, but +your daughter can. It’s going to cost you some money, +though.” He suffered a relapse. “Youth knows +neither the value of time nor money.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah was filled with relief. “By gum, you’ve +hit it,” he shouted. “But why couldn’t you get that +off your chest without throwing a fit?” he complained, +ill-humoredly.</p> + +<p>Once more Hezekiah reverted to sentiment. “The +language of youth is song, and its thought poetry,” he +sighed, after which he arose and faced the manufacturer +across his desk. “I am authorized to proceed +in accordance with my plan?” he asked–“to make +the best settlement which in my judgment can be made +in the premises, through,” he chuckled, “the extraordinary +channels to which I have recourse?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span>“Go the limit, only keep it out of court,” grumbled +Obadiah. “Give such instructions as you wish to +Virginia and let her understand that I am only interested +in an amicable adjustment and do not care to be +bothered with details.”</p> + +<p>As Hezekiah departed through the outer office, he +interrupted a conversation between Mr. Jones and +Kelly.</p> + +<p>The stenographer met the intrusion with characteristic +activity. Rushing to his desk, he seized the +recently typed letters and bore them into Obadiah’s +presence. His haste, if noted by the attorney, should +have indicated that prolonged presence in the throne +room had resulted in marked delay to the normal performance +of imperial functions.</p> + +<p>Apparently Hezekiah’s mind was engrossed by +lighter matters. He moved spryly, whistling a cheery +melody not at present in vogue but much in favor in +his youth.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones came out of Obadiah’s room hurriedly. +The sound of stern reproof came also, until it was +shut off by the closing of the door. It seemed as if +the spirit of the stenographer expanded in relief, in +the familiar atmosphere of his own domain; as one +who, having accomplished a hazardous journey, returns +to the peace of his own fireside.</p> + +<p>He entered Kelly’s room with great dignity. Taking +a position in the center, he raised his arms horizontally, +inhaled a deep breath, bowed deeply, straightened +up, exhaled, rose on his toes, descended, and +dropped his arms.</p> + +<p>The massive Kelly viewed this athletic exhibition +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +with interest. “What’s that exercise for?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones yawned. “It gives me relaxation from +the strain,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“What strain? Where did you strain yourself?” +asked Kelly with kindly interest in his friend’s welfare.</p> + +<p>“The office responsibility,” explained the stenographer. +“It knocks the sap out of a fellow.” He +lighted a cigarette.</p> + +<p>“Oh, is that it?” Kelly gave a cruel laugh. “I +thought you had sprung something. If you do that +exercise often, young fellow, you’ll bust a lung. Let’s +see you do it again,” urged the bookkeeper, as if desirous +of witnessing the fulfillment of his prophecy.</p> + +<p>Without fear, Mr. Jones laid aside his cigarette +with care, and gulped such a deep draught of air that +he became red in the face and gave other evidences of +being about to burst from undue pneumatic pressure.</p> + +<p>Kelly viewed with undisguised amusement the undeveloped +protuberance thrust forward in pride by the +stenographer. “You haven’t the chest expansion of +a lizard,” he told him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones received this deadly insult in the midst +of deep bowing. He exploded, and, leaning against a +desk, breathed rapidly while the injured look in his +eyes attempted to carry that reproof which his speechlessness +otherwise forbade.</p> + +<p>“If you do that exercise much,” Kelly gloomily predicted, +“you are going to relax in a wooden box. +Who gave you that stuff? You must have been getting +your ideas from the gymnasium of a bug house.”</p> + +<p>For obvious reasons Mr. Jones failed to reply.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span>“There is no sense in the thing. What you need +is–” Kelly descended from his perch and seizing him, +only that instant recovered from speechlessness, in his +strong grasp, made exploratory investigations with +his fingers throughout the panting one’s anatomy.</p> + +<p>“Ouch,” wailed the pained Mr. Jones.</p> + +<p>“Shut up. Do you want the old man out here? +I’m not going to hurt you. I want to find out what +ails you.”</p> + +<p>“Leggo, you are nearly killing me.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones rubbed himself ruefully when Kelly +loosed him. “You big stiff, ain’t you got no sense, +gouging around in a fellow’s insides that way? You +are liable to put a man out of business,” he protested.</p> + +<p>Utterly indifferent to these complaints, Kelly was +judging the stenographer coldly and dispassionately. +“You’ve got no bone. You’ve got no muscle. You’ve +got no fat.” Kelly forgot that pride and dignity are +intangible assets. “You’d better take correct breathing +exercises or you’ll get T. B.,” he told him. “I +shouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got it now.”</p> + +<p>Naturally, Mr. Jones was greatly alarmed and +showed it.</p> + +<p>“Here’s the way to take a breathing exercise.” +Kelly slowly inhaled a mighty volume of air until his +chest arched forth in all of its magnificent development. +He held it so for a moment and beat upon it +resoundingly in accordance with the supposed custom +of the orang-outang in moments of victory. “No +tuberculosis there,” he boasted, after exhaling with the +rush of a gale of wind.</p> + +<p>“That’s some expansion, Kelly,” the stenographer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +admitted, and he continued as in excuse for his own +physical deficiencies, “I should take more exercise. +My work is confining, and the strain is heavy. I’m +all run down. The old man must have noticed it, too, +because the other day he says to me, ‘Mr. Jones, you’re +working too hard–it’s telling on you–I’d give you +a good rest if I could manage to get along without +you.’”</p> + +<p>Kelly burst into a roar of laughter. “If you wait +for the old man to give you a rest, my son, you are +going to get tired, believe me. Cut out the bluff for +a minute. I want to talk seriously to you. You’re in +rotten physical condition and you owe it to yourself to +keep from playing leading man at a funeral.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones’s countenance registered horror.</p> + +<p>Kelly went on. “I happen to know a darn sight +more about physical training than I do about book-keeping. +I ought to–I spent enough time around +a college gymnasium when I should have been some +place else.”</p> + +<p>Even Mr. Jones’s alarm faded before this astounding +information. “College,” he remarked in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Sure,” Kelly grinned, “I spent a couple of years in +college. I’m proud of them. I nearly flunked out before +I learned that I leaned to muscle instead of to literature.” +He returned to the subject under discussion. +“I can give you a bunch of exercises which will do +you a lot of good in six months if you are faithful. +I’ll give you gentle exercises at first, darn gentle,” he +laughed, “otherwise you’ll snap something. I believe +that I’ll make a man out of you, young grasshopper.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span> +He shook his head wearily. “Gosh, but it’s going to +take a lot of work.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones flushed hotly. “Say,” he said, “it’s +not necessary to insult me, is it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you’ve got to use a harpoon to get anything +through that rhinoceros’ hide of egotism of yours.” +He fastened a stern and foreboding eye upon Mr. +Jones. “Do you want to die?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones sought the motive behind the startling +question. “What’s going to kill me?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“Lack of air.” Kelly’s answer was obscure. It +was too general. He thought it necessary to restate +it with modifying amendments. “The lack of good +fresh air,” he concluded.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said Mr. Jones, apparently much relieved at +the distinction made.</p> + +<p>“You want to get out into the air and breathe,” +Kelly explained as if the stenographer were carelessly +given to omit this function.</p> + +<p>“I don’t have the time.” Mr. Jones visualized a +dignified stroll over a golf links.</p> + +<p>Kelly gave thought to the difficulty. “A motorcycle +would be the thing,” he decided.</p> + +<p>The effect upon Mr. Jones would have been no different +if Kelly had prescribed an aeroplane or a submarine. +“I can’t ride a motorcycle, and even if I +could, where can I get one?” he objected.</p> + +<p>“That’s the point.” Kelly was as enthusiastic as +a life insurance agent. “I have a friend who has +one. He nearly killed himself on it and now he is +in the hospital. I’ll bet that he is tired of it and will +sell it cheap.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span>“What do I want with the thing if it nearly killed +him?” Mr. Jones protested logically.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be a fool. The motorcycle never hurt him. +He ran into an automobile and hurt himself.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones believed the difference to be immaterial. +“I won’t ride a motorcycle,” he declared obstinately.</p> + +<p>Kelly clung to his scheme with constructive pride. +“It’s up to you, my friend,” he argued. “You are +going to die unless you get out into the air. I suggest +the way to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and I’ll get killed on the blamed old motorcycle,” +predicted Mr. Jones mournfully.</p> + +<p>“Take your choice!” the generous Kelly invited. +“I am going up to the hospital to see that fellow after +office hours. Why don’t you come along and meet +him and then you can decide about the machine.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones, fearful that he might overlook an important +engagement, consulted a note-book with care. +After concluding his investigation of the records, he +said, “Well, as I don’t happen to have anything on, +I don’t mind going up there with you, but you can +write it in your hat that I’m not strong for any motorcycle +business.”</p> + +<p>Within a few moments after the prescribed closing +hour, Obadiah’s official staff appeared upon the streets +of South Ridgefield. Their steps lead them towards +the hospital and on the way they passed Mr. Vivian’s +cool oasis of refreshment amidst the burning sands of +the town’s business section.</p> + +<p>Here, the confectioner and his assistants arrayed +in pure white moved gracefully about, serving the +guests with cooling drink or, from time to time, gave +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span> +attention to the adjustment of the mechanical piano +which furnished melody for the lovers of music.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones feasted his eyes upon this scene of innocent +revelry and good fellowship. “Come on,” he +said to Kelly, “have a drink?”</p> + +<p>Kelly received the invitation with insulting words. +“That’s your trouble,” he exclaimed in a voice which +carried far. “That’s what makes your complexion +so fierce.”</p> + +<p>The sensitive soul of Mr. Jones rebelled at this public +outcry of his physical defects. “Say, you big +chump,” he burst out, “don’t you know any better than +to bawl a fellow out that way in a place where everybody +can hear you? That’s a dickens of a thing to +do.”</p> + +<p>“Come on. Nobody was listening.” Kelly looked +about as if disappointed at failing to find an audience +awaiting other personal allusions. “It’s the truth,” +he maintained vigorously.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones hesitated, torn as many another good man, +between his vanity and his appetite. Before his eyes +flowed a tantalizing stream of those delicacies so dear +to his palate. In his pocket reposed two dimes, his +wealth until pay day on the morrow would replenish +his purse. Why should not a good fellow entertain +his friends even though they resort to personal comments? +Rent by conflicting desires, he jingled the +coins. As he fingered them, there flashed the remembrance +of the war tax. He turned to Kelly and his +voice was very sad, as he murmured, “I guess that +you’re right, old man. We’ll cut out the sweet stuff.”</p> + +<p>They had no difficulty in locating Joe Curtis. His +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +sunny characteristics had won him already wide spread +friendships among the hospital staff, so that the way +to his bed was indicated as the path to a neighbor’s +door.</p> + +<p>Kelly grinned amiably at Miss Knight, and inquired, +“May I speak to Joe Curtis?”</p> + +<p>The nurse looked at the big fellow with the appraising +eye of a connoisseur of men. “Sure,” she retorted, +“if you can talk and he will give you a chance +to.”</p> + +<p>The participants in this repartee were much pleased +with its cleverness. They laughed loudly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones, considering the remarks frivolous, did +not deign to unbend from a stately poise assumed by +him when in the presence of ladies. Miss Knight was +evidently a person of ordinary origin, lacking in discrimination. +She had failed to notice the stenographer, +confining her attentions, including her smiles, +to the husky Kelly.</p> + +<p>“Here’s another friend, Joe,” the nurse told the +injured motorcyclist when they arrived at his bedside. +She failed to take account of Mr. Jones who had +progressed down the aisle with mien of great distinction. +His entrance was marred only by a remark +of a vulgar patient who in a coarse whisper desired to +be advised, “Who let Charlie Chaplin in?” much to +the amusement of other low fellows.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Joe, how’s business?” asked Kelly.</p> + +<p>“Fine, Mike, fine. Never better,” responded the +patient.</p> + +<p>“Meet my friend, Mr. Percy Jones.” The introduction +was impaired as the stenographer’s attention +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span> +was devoted to frowning down masculine giggles reminiscent +of the reference to the illustrious movie star.</p> + +<p>That the social exigencies of the moment might not +be overlooked, Kelly dug a finger into the stenographer’s +side.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones undulated as to a measure of the Hula +Hula. “Wough,” he yelled. “Wot cher doin’?”</p> + +<p>Happy laughter arose from nearby beds.</p> + +<p>Miss Knight swept her recumbent charges with a +glance of stern reproof. “Where’s your manners?” +she demanded. “Cut out this rough stuff or–” she +paused for effect and then launched this terrifying +threat–“you’ll get no ice cream on Wednesday.” +The male surgical cases quailed before this menace +of cruel and unusual punishment. Peace reigned.</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen, be seated,” invited Joe, in the rich +and mellow tones of an interlocutor.</p> + +<p>Miss Knight departed. Mr. Jones sat down in the +only chair and Kelly made preparations to rest his +huge form on the bed of the injured one.</p> + +<p>Joe viewed this arrangement with alarm. “Don’t +you sit on my broken leg, you hippopotamus,” he protested.</p> + +<p>Kelly withdrew so hastily that he nearly knocked Mr. +Jones off his chair.</p> + +<p>“Mike, go over there and get that other chair. +Don’t try to rob a little fellow like Jonesy,” Joe told +him.</p> + +<p>Pain swathed the features of Mr. Jones. To be +publicly addressed as “Jonesy” was bad enough, but +when coupled with an insulting reference to his size, +it was too much.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span>Kelly finally seated himself by the invalid’s head and +remarked with a smile of pleasure, “Joe, they tell +me you’re about dead. Is there anything in it?”</p> + +<p>“Listen to words of warning,” suggested the injured +man. “Even with my game leg, it would take +a bigger man than you to put me out of business.”</p> + +<p>Kelly disregarded the challenge. “Is there any +truth in the report that landing on your head is all +that saved you?”</p> + +<p>Joe grunted in disdain and Mr. Jones openly +yawned at such commonplace humor.</p> + +<p>Regardless of popular displeasure, Kelly went on. +“I understand that your head ruined the truck?”</p> + +<p>“Mike, you are a heavy kidder.” Joe smiled affectionately +at his big friend. “Your conversation +is usually agreeable, sometimes interesting, but never +reliable. You guessed wrong about a truck. I ran +into a seven passenger touring car.”</p> + +<p>“Ha, a chariot of the awful rich. In the excitement +did you surreptitiously abstract any diamonds, +tires, gasoline or other valuables shaken loose by your +dome?”</p> + +<p>“No such luck, Mike. There was only a girl in +the car.”</p> + +<p>“The priceless jewel of the Isle of Swat and you +did not kidnap it?” exclaimed Kelly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones displayed a superior interest. “Was she +beautiful?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>“Was she beautiful?” mimicked Kelly. “She +must have been. That’s why Joe tried to make a hit.” +He leaned over the motorcyclist. “For once I am +proud of you, young man. You used your head.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span>Mr. Jones displayed extreme animation. “By +Jove,” he laughed. “Possibly the lady thought that +Mr. Curtis was butting in.”</p> + +<p>Kelly inspected the stenographer with great intentness. +“Good morning, old top. When did you wake +up?”</p> + +<p>“Your kidding is contagious, Mike. Jonesy has +caught it,” chuckled Joe.</p> + +<p>“No, you don’t understand the nature of the brute. +It’s not me–it’s the ladies. Jones awakens at a reference +to them and blossoms beneath their smiles,” explained +Kelly.</p> + +<p>A gentle look spread over Joe’s face. “The girl +I ran into happened to be the right sort. She stuck +by me when I was hurt and helped to bring me here–” +He paused for a moment and then continued, “Let’s +not talk about her in this room full of men.”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” boomed Kelly. “You’re right as usual, +Joe. Never stopped to think myself.” He turned +and pointed to the stenographer. “My old friend +Jones is on the edge of a decline.” The bookkeeper +disregarded the presence of the private secretary as +if he were deaf. “If he starts to slide he hasn’t far +to go to land in a cemetery.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones displayed no marked pleasure in the conversation. +He maintained a dignified aloofness.</p> + +<p>“I have decided to train him,” Kelly explained. +“It’s going to be a hard job. He’s got no bone. He’s +got no muscle. He’s got no fat. He’s got nothin’.”</p> + +<p>Again Kelly overlooked the proud and sensitive spirit +which protested against this public dissection of physical +defects.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span>The eyes of Kelly and Joe viewed the puny figure +of the stenographer in the manner of disgusted farmers +examining a runt which resists their efforts to fatten +it.</p> + +<p>“To get flesh and muscle and bone on him I must +give him plenty of exercise and get him out into the +air. That will make him eat,” Kelly went on.</p> + +<p>“His present diet is mostly cigarettes, isn’t it?” +Joe inquired.</p> + +<p>“He eats them by the bale,” confessed Kelly.</p> + +<p>Apparently Joe deemed himself invited into the case +as a consulting specialist. “Make him cut them out,” +he prescribed. “Take the little fellow out for a run +every night and give him a good sweat out. Give him +a bath and a rub down and get him in bed by ten +o’clock. Watch your distances at first. Jonesy is +full of dope. Look at his eyes.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones quailed under this keen scrutiny of experts.</p> + +<p>“He’ll fall dead if he runs a block,” predicted Joe. +“He’ll be able to cover some ground, though, after a +couple of weeks of plugging. You can speed him up, +then.” He studied the stenographer with impersonal +interest. “Make a feather weight boxer of him, Mike, +if he isn’t yellow. Get him in shape for the fall meet +of the Athletic Club. If he can’t box, make him run. +He’s built like a jack rabbit.”</p> + +<p>The course of treatment outlined by the consulting +specialist filled Mr. Jones with undisguised alarm. +His mind and body alike protested against the indignities +which threatened him. To him came recognition +that immediate resistance was necessary to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span> +prevent the advent of a gruelling course of physical training, +repugnant to his flesh and revolting to his soul. +“S-s-s-say,” he stammered in the intenseness of his +opposition, “I don’t want<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Look here,” Joe interrupted with fierceness, “you +asked Mike to train you, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones’s mental anguish did not make for quick +thinking. He worked his lips but emitted no sound.</p> + +<p>To Joe this silence acquiesced in his assumption and +he went on, “You begged him to train you and he +finally consented. You have shown judgment in +selecting him–you couldn’t find a better man. But, +remember this, my friend. Training is hard work. +You are in for a rough time of it, Jonesy, and don’t +you forget it. Remember this–it’s not what you +want–it’s what Mike wants that is going to count. +He has undertaken the devil’s own job to make a man +out of a shrimp like you. Do you get me?” he concluded +ferociously.</p> + +<p>Before the sheer brute masculinity of the attack, the +gentle courage of Mr. Jones gave way. “Yes, sir,” +he agreed meekly.</p> + +<p>“Now, that’s all settled, Mike,” Joe indicated with +satisfaction. “Jonesy knows where he gets off. How +about the grub?”</p> + +<p>“No trouble there,” Kelly explained. “We board +at the same place. The food is plain enough and I +can eat his dessert and make him fill up on solid stuff. +I wanted to ask about your motorcycle.”</p> + +<p>“You are welcome to use it, Mike. It will be fine +to chase Jonesy on or to get ahead of him if you want +to time him. The machine was badly smashed in my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span> +crash. There is a repair bill of seven dollars +against it. If you will pay that, you can use it until +I need it again. Put Jones up on it, too, if you like.”</p> + +<p>There was a rustling of skirts and the sound of soft +footsteps. Virginia came towards the young men. +Mr. Jones and Kelly instantly recognized their employer’s +daughter. They came to their feet as kitchen +police in the presence of the Commanding General, +which is with the speed of the lightning.</p> + +<p>Virginia smiled sweetly at the invalid. “I am sorry +to intrude,” she explained, “but the hospital closes to +visitors in ten minutes; so I had to come now or not +see Joe today.”</p> + +<p>“It is fine of you to come even for a minute.” +Joe smiled happily and then attempted to present Kelly +and Mr. Jones to her.</p> + +<p>She gave them a friendly smile. “I know you both. +I have seen you in my father’s office so often that we +are really old acquaintances.”</p> + +<p>Kelly looked her squarely in the eyes and beamed, +“Thanks, I like that.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones assumed a manner containing all that +was best from the several books upon social usages +he had perused. Often had he longed for an opportunity +to show the manufacturer’s daughter that at least +her father’s private secretary was well versed in such +matters. His chance had come and he must make +the most of it. He bowed profoundly, “I am honored, +indeed,” he murmured gently. “Permit me to express +the extreme pleasure Miss Dale’s presence gives +me.” Apparently, at this point, Mr. Jones expected +Virginia to extend her lily white hand to be kissed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span>She, being a young thing, a mere chit as it were, was +unversed in this procedure. She looked at the low-bowed +Mr. Jones and then at Joe and Kelly with a +somewhat puzzled expression.</p> + +<p>The athletes, being men of vulgar minds, burst into +a roar of laughter which shocked Mr. Jones exceedingly. +Finding nothing better to do, he was forced to +join in amusement at his own expense.</p> + +<p>“Gee, I’m going to miss my supper,” cried Kelly, +and, with a breezy “Good bye” to Virginia and Joe, +and a hurried “Come on” to Mr. Jones, he rushed +away.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones was astounded at this exhibition of haste +and ill-breeding, before this lady of position. However, +he found himself torn between conflicting desires. +He would have gladly spent some hours in the company +of Miss Dale engaged in elegant conversation, +but, at the moment, for the life of him, he could recall +no subject of sufficient gentility for discussion.</p> + +<p>“Come on, Jones,” came Kelly’s voice from the +hall.</p> + +<p>Virginia had taken Kelly’s chair and, leaning over +the bed, was engrossed in conversation with the injured +man.</p> + +<p>The presence of Mr. Jones was being overlooked. +He deemed it better to depart with Kelly. Immediate +action was essential. He arose and again bowed +deeply. “Allow me,” he pleaded, in dulcet tones, +“to express my delight and joy in meeting Miss Dale +and to inform her that circumstances beyond my individual +control require my withdrawal from her company.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span>“Blow, Jonesy, before your beans get cold,” suggested +Joe.</p> + +<p>At this low remark, Mr. Jones straightened up to his +full height very suddenly and stepped backwards with +dignity. Unhappily, his heel hooked against the leg +of his chair and twisted the piece of furniture beneath +him so that, tripping, he lost his balance upon the +waxed floor. Simultaneously, Mr. Jones lost his dignity +and waved his arms wildly in a frantic endeavor +to recover himself.</p> + +<p>“Come on,” Kelly urged again.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones obeyed the words of his trainer literally. +Coming on over the chair, he landed with a crash +between the beds on the other side of the aisle.</p> + +<p>“Bring the ambulance up here,” suggested a facetious +patient.</p> + +<p>Sore in mind and body, Mr. Jones was assisted to +his feet by the helpful Miss Knight. “I stumbled,” +he explained to her in excuse.</p> + +<p>“It’s a darn good thing you didn’t fall,” replied the +nurse with ill-concealed sarcasm.</p> + +<p>Virginia had watched Mr. Jones’s acrobatic performances +with mixed emotions. She glanced at her +wrist watch and, rising, leaned over to bid Joe farewell.</p> + +<p>He caught her hand and held it. For a moment +the black eyes were gazing squarely into the depths +of the blue ones, and no word passed between the +two, yet they were filled with a new, strange joyousness.</p> + +<p>“I must go,” she whispered gently, and pulled her +hand from Joe’s as she turned towards the stricken +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span> +Mr. Jones. “I hope you are not hurt,” she told him +and left the ward with a nod at Kelly at the door.</p> + +<p>Seizing his hat, Mr. Jones limped slowly after her.</p> + +<p>“You’ll get better control of your muscles after +Mike handles you a bit,” Joe called after him.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t I tell you fellows that was Charlie Chaplin?” +came a voice from one of the beds. Amidst +the merriment aroused by this sally Mr. Jones joined +Kelly and took his departure.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span><a id='link_10'></a>CHAPTER X<br /><span class='h2fs'>AN AFTERNOON OFF</span></h2> + +<p>“Dis yere fambly ain’ nevah ready to eat. Dey +allers has sumpin else dey gotta do,” grumbled Serena +as she moved out upon the front porch of the Dale +home.</p> + +<p>Virginia stood upon the greensward listening to +the call of a song sparrow in the tree above her head. +The notes of the bird rang clear upon the morning air +in all of their sweetness, until overwhelmed in competition +with a jazz melody whistled by Ike as he moved +about dragging a serpent-like length of hose behind +him.</p> + +<p>“Cum in to you’ breakfus, chil’,” commanded Serena.</p> + +<p>“In a moment. Isn’t it a beautiful day for the +concert?”</p> + +<p>Although Virginia’s tardiness was yet uppermost +in her mind, Serena deigned to examine the heavens +above and the earth beneath with a critical eye which +proposed to allow no fault to escape it. Then she +made answer in a cryptic reply, “You ain’ said nothin’ +chil’, you ain’ said nothin’ a tall.”</p> + +<p>“Virginia,” said Obadiah, when they met at the +breakfast table, “Mr. Wilkins was here again yesterday +afternoon and you were not at home.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span>The girl laughed. “I know it, Daddy,” she confessed, +as she poured a generous measure of thick +cream over her dish of sliced peaches. The charge of +absenteeism made against her did not appear to be +affecting her appetite as she began to eat.</p> + +<p>“I warned you that he was coming,” Obadiah continued, +impressively.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Daddy.” The girl was enjoying her peaches +and cream. “After you told me about it I waited for +him and he didn’t come,” she explained virtuously. +“The next afternoon, I had to go out and–of course, +he had to come. The afternoon after that, I waited +at home expecting Mr. Wilkins and he never came +near. Yesterday I had to go out–and he had to +come.” She laughed gaily. “We have been playing +a game of hide and seek. Mr. Wilkins has been it and +hasn’t caught me yet.”</p> + +<p>“It’s been an expensive game for me,” protested +Obadiah. “I pay Mr. Wilkins a large salary for his +time and services and I can use them to better advantage +than in making calls upon you.”</p> + +<p>“That’s an ungallant speech. I am filled with shame +for my own father.” She shook her head sadly in +token of her disgrace. “If Mr. Wilkins wants to see +me, why doesn’t he arrange to come when I am home?” +she argued stoutly.</p> + +<p>Obadiah became stern. “You should have remained +home for Mr. Wilkins. You are out a great deal, +anyway.”</p> + +<p>A look of mock horror came into Virginia’s face. +“Would you have me sit alone in this big house, waiting +with folded arms for Mr. Wilkins?” she giggled.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span>Even Obadiah relented before this sorrowful picture. +“Who said anything about folded arms,” he +demanded shortly, “or about sitting alone, either? +You are out some place in that machine every day. +It won’t hurt you to remain at home until Mr. Wilkins +has seen you. My affairs are of more importance +than yours.”</p> + +<p>Virginia looked at him with great solemnity. “You +want to be cross at me, Daddy, and you can’t make +yourself,” she laughed. “These peaches and cream +are protecting me. If they didn’t taste so good to you, +I would get a scolding. I don’t deserve it, though, +because, after all, my affairs are always your affairs. +Ike says that the machine runs better if it is used every +day. I keep it in splendid order for you.”</p> + +<p>The efforts of his daughter did not appear to impress +Obadiah.</p> + +<p>She went on with an air of pride, “Lately, I have +been busy on a surprise for you.” She assumed an air +of dignity. “I am giving an entertainment to the +old ladies of the Lucinda Home this afternoon. I +planned it all by myself and I invite you to be present. +There’ll be a concert by a brass band. Aren’t +you surprised, Daddy?”</p> + +<p>Obadiah was surprised. Without reference to +natural perplexity as to why festivities for the benefit +of the old ladies should be a matter of astonishment to +him, there were ample grounds for amazement in the +knowledge that his youthful daughter had assumed +management of a production involving a brass band. +It was as if she had announced her connection with +a circus for the aged.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span>“Where did you get the band?” demanded Obadiah, +in the tone of an anxious parent whose infant has returned +bearing personal property suspected of belonging +to a neighbor.</p> + +<p>“Colonel Ryan loaned it to me. He is coming, too. +Won’t you come, Daddy dear, please?” There was +a wistful look in the girl’s face. “It’s going to be +lovely.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah was uncomfortable. “I can’t come today,” +he replied, finally.</p> + +<p>“Oh Daddy–” her disappointment showed in every +note of her voice–“I have counted so much on having +you. I would be so proud of you.” She glanced +imploringly at him.</p> + +<p>“I’m going out of town,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Can’t you put it off?”</p> + +<p>“No, Virginia, I have made my plans to go today. +I can’t let anything interfere with business arrangements. +They mean dollars and cents.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Daddy,” she surrendered with a sad +little sigh and tried to cheer herself. “Some day +when I have something else you’ll plan to come, won’t +you, dear?”</p> + +<p>He was interested in his newspaper now. “Perhaps,” +he finally answered absently without looking +up.</p> + +<p>For a time they ate in silence. “The afternoon +frightens me, Daddy,” she told him with a worried +air. “It’s a big responsibility. What if it should be +a failure?”</p> + +<p>He crushed his paper down by his plate and snapped, +“You got into the thing of your own accord. It’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span> +up to you to see it through. To make a success of it–a +Dale success. You can do it.”</p> + +<p>His assurance braced the girl. “I’ll make a go of +it, Daddy,” she promised, and then, “It’s wrong for +me to expect Mr. Wilkins to run after me. I will go +to his office this morning and see him.”</p> + +<p>He gave her a look of approval. “That’s business,” +he agreed.</p> + +<p>She hovered about him after they rose from the +table. “Could I ask Mr. Wilkins to come to my +concert, Daddy?” There was an appealing look in +the big blue eyes. “I don’t want it to seem as if I +have no friends.”</p> + +<p>He gave her an uneasy glance and there was almost +a note of regret in his voice when he answered, “I am +sorry that I can’t come. Certainly, you may ask Mr. +Wilkins. Tell him that I want him to go. Ask any +one you like.” Yet in spite of these concessions his +conscience disturbed him. “How will you meet the +expenses of the entertainment,” he inquired.</p> + +<p>“They won’t be much. Serena had the things which +I needed charged at the store.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah appeared about to protest but changed his +mind.</p> + +<p>“I can pay for anything else I need out of my allowance,” +she went on.</p> + +<p>An unusual wave of generosity engulfed Obadiah, +due, no doubt, to pricks of his unquiet conscience. +“Don’t do that,” he objected. “Send the bills to me.”</p> + +<p>A delighted Virginia lifted up her voice, joyously, +“How perfectly grand! I’ll order ice cream for everybody.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span>Pain rested upon Obadiah’s countenance, due, no +doubt, rather to a twinge of indigestion at the mention +of a large quantity of ice cream during the breakfast +hour than to regret at the result of his unusual liberality. +He sought relief in reproving Ike sternly, ere +departing for his office.</p> + +<p>Virginia spent a busy morning. She telephoned to +Colonel Ryan, visited Mrs. Henderson and conferred +at length with Mrs. Smith, the matron at the Lucinda +Home, regarding the approaching festivities.</p> + +<p>Later, she repaired to the establishment of Mr. +Vivian, glittering brilliantly in the morning sun and +graced even at this early hour by thirsty members of +South Ridgefield’s younger set.</p> + +<p>Her deliberations with the genial proprietor were +prolonged. Complex factors hindered the meeting of +minds regarded as essential to the contractual relationship +of commerce. Mr. Vivian’s knowledge of +the law of probabilities as applied to the consumption +of ice cream and cake by infants, by adults, or by infants +and adults together, was as deep as the information +of an insurance actuary on the mortality of fellow +men. But specialists gain their reputation through +years of toil, and they object to risking it on the uncertain. +To Mr. Vivian the capacity of old ladies and +aged soldiers for delicate confections was an unknown +factor. He had no digest of leading cases to consult, +no vital statistics to inspect, no medical journals to +study. He was venturing into unexplored territory. +Without premises he was asked to deduct a conclusion. +Mr. Vivian was reduced to an unscientific guess.</p> + +<p>Yet, if necessary, guesses can be made. So it came +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span> +to pass that Mr. Vivian bowed the manufacturer’s +daughter from his emporium, and, with the sweet smell +of his wares in his nostrils, raised eyes of loving kindness +from the profitable order in his hand, due account +thereof to be rendered unto Obadiah for payment, and +gazed after her in respectful admiration.</p> + +<p>Shortly after this, the judicial solemnity of the +chamber of Hezekiah Wilkins, Attorney at Law, situate +and being, opposite the suite of Obadiah, was disturbed +by a timid knock. It failed to attract Hezekiah’s +attention. This was strange. The room was +not unusually large. Also, its size was diminished by +cases of reports, digests and encyclopedias covering +the walls, except where they were pierced by the windows +and door or broken by the fireplace and its broad +chimney face. Upon this hung a picture of the Supreme +Court and on the mantel below stood a bust of +John Marshall, the stern eyes of which viewed the +polished back of Hezekiah’s head as he sat at his desk.</p> + +<p>It is possible that the lawyer was preoccupied through +profound consideration of some abstract point of law. +Before him lay an open court report and his desk was +littered with documents. His head was bowed forward, +his hands clasped over his abdomen and his eyes +closed.</p> + +<p>“Tap–tap,” sounded again at the door. Hezekiah +brushed at his face as if to shoo a disturbing fly. Yet, +so deep were his meditations that he failed to note the +interruption.</p> + +<p>“Knock–knock–bang.” The noise swelled to +a well-defined blow of sufficient authority to recall the +greatest mental concentration from the most tortuous +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span> +legal labyrinth of the most learned court in the world.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah jumped. He raised his head with a jerk +and his eyes opened. One unacquainted with the +abysmal excogitations of judicial mentalities might describe +them as having a startled look. He rubbed them +with his fists, stroked his smooth shaven cheeks and replaced +his glasses on his nose. Having by such simple +expedients withdrawn his mind from the fathomless +depths of legal lore into which it seemingly had +been plunged, he shouted, “Come in.”</p> + +<p>Virginia entered.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah, recognizing the daughter of his employer, +sprang to his feet, greeting her, “I am honored, indeed, +Miss Dale.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Wilkins, my father says that I have done +wrong in allowing you to come to our house twice and +not find me at home.” She smiled sweetly at him as +she held out her hand to him. “I am sorry. I +thought that my best apology would be to save you +another trip by coming to see you.”</p> + +<p>“You are very considerate, Miss Dale,” he responded, +as he offered her his visitor’s chair.</p> + +<p>She sat down filled with great curiosity as to his +business with her.</p> + +<p>He did not approach it directly. “We are having +beautiful weather, Miss Dale. Being given to out of +door pursuits and pastimes–athletic, as it were–you +must find it very agreeable.”</p> + +<p>“I do enjoy these beautiful spring days. I like to +be out of doors, too. But I am not what they call an +athletic girl, Mr. Wilkins.”</p> + +<p>“I plead guilty to an inaccuracy of nomenclature,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span> +Hezekiah responded with great solemnity, removing +his glasses and flourishing them.</p> + +<p>“What did you say, Mr. Wilkins?” asked Virginia +in smiling bewilderment.</p> + +<p>His eyes began to twinkle and in spite of his serious +face she caught his mood and they burst into a peal +of laughter.</p> + +<p>“Miss Dale–” he began.</p> + +<p>She interrupted him. “Call me Virginia as you +always have done, Mr. Wilkins,” she urged. “Please +do.”</p> + +<p>“It will be easier,” he admitted, and then for a moment +he studied her face thoughtfully. “You are +looking more like your mother, every day, Virginia. +She was a beautiful woman–a very beautiful +woman,” he continued dreamily. “As good, too, as +she was beautiful. It seems to me, now, that her life +was given up to doing kindnesses to others. I have +always been proud that your mother accepted me as +one of her friends.”</p> + +<p>His words awakened eager interest in the girl. +“Tell me about her, please, Mr. Wilkins,” she begged, +as he paused.</p> + +<p>He smiled gently into the wistful eyes of blue, as +happy remembrances of the past returned to him. +“Your mother came into our lives as a gentle zephyr +from her own beautiful Southland. With her came +memories of bright sunshine, growing flowers and perfumed +air. These things radiated from her–a part +of her life. Happiness and joy were ever her constant +companions and the gifts she would shower.”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s eyes were big with the tender longings +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span> +of her heart. “My mother tried to make every one +else happy, didn’t she?”</p> + +<p>The countenance of Hezekiah softened and his voice +was tempered by gentle memories as he said, “If she +tried to do that, she succeeded. Every one who knew +your mother was the happier for it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh–what a beautiful thing to say about her, +Mr. Wilkins,” she whispered.</p> + +<p>After a few moments of silence, Hezekiah resolutely +thrust aside the reveries into which he and his visitor +had plunged. “Ahem,” he coughed and then he polished +his scalp so vigorously that it became suffused +with a purplish tinge. “Virginia,” he inquired sternly, +“are you acquainted with one Joseph Tolliver Curtis?”</p> + +<p>For an instant Virginia was unable to identify Joe +under his formal appellation. “Yes, he is the man +at the hospital who was hurt by our machine,” she +answered finally.</p> + +<p>“You have visited him?”</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>He removed his glasses and tapped his teeth. “Did +you ever discuss with the said Joseph Tolliver Curtis +the accident heretofore referred to?”</p> + +<p>“What did you say, Mr. Wilkins?” worried Virginia.</p> + +<p>“Will you please state,” demanded Hezekiah absently, +“whether at any time or any place you discussed +the subject matter of this action with the plaintiff.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Wilkins, what are you talking about?” Virginia +cried in dismay.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span>Hezekiah came out of his preoccupation. “I beg +your pardon,” he said hastily. “I asked if you ever +talked over the accident with Curtis.”</p> + +<p>“Is that the question you asked me, Mr. Wilkins?”</p> + +<p>“Honest,” he chuckled.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I can answer that easily. I talked it all over +with him.”</p> + +<p>“Have you objection to advising me of the substance–” +Hezekiah stopped and restated his question–“Will +you tell what you said, Virginia?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, I told Mr. Curtis that I was to blame for +the accident and he said it was his own fault.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer was surprised. “Did he admit negligence?”</p> + +<p>Virginia deemed this question to imply danger to +Joe and she remembered her promise. “I am not at +liberty to say, Mr. Wilkins,” she answered stoutly. +“I can’t discuss Mr. Curtis’s part in the accident.”</p> + +<p>For a moment Hezekiah eyed the girl thoughtfully. +He arose and took a turn up and down the room while +his eyes danced with mischief. He reached a decision +which changed his line of questioning when he reseated +himself. “Virginia, do you think that you +were to blame for that accident?” he asked the girl.</p> + +<p>“I know that I was.”</p> + +<p>“If you were a witness in court, would you testify +that the accident was your fault?”</p> + +<p>“I would admit my blame anywhere and any place, +Mr. Wilkins.”</p> + +<p>“Did Mr. Curtis say anything to you about bringing +a suit for damages against your father?”</p> + +<p>“No, he wouldn’t do that, I’m sure.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span>“Why are you sure?”</p> + +<p>“I told him that I believed my father should pay +him damages.”</p> + +<p>“What did he say to that?” asked Hezekiah with +interest.</p> + +<p>“He said that he wouldn’t take money from my +father.”</p> + +<p>“Was he angry, Virginia?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no indeed.” She hesitated for a moment. +“He seemed tired and worn out and so I left +him.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Virginia, what would you say if I told you +that I tried to reach an agreement with Mr. Curtis the +other day and he refused to accept anything in settlement?”</p> + +<p>“I say that my father is just the dearest and noblest +man that ever lived. He sent you to do that, didn’t +he, Mr. Wilkins, and never said a word about it to me? +Isn’t that just like Daddy?”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah smiled but said no word. Possibly he remembered +the amount of the check. Professional confidences +make lawyers cynical. He drummed a spirited +march upon his desk with his fingers and took no +other part in the acclaim of Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Wilkins,” worried Virginia, “do you suppose +that you could have hurt Mr. Curtis’s feelings?”</p> + +<p>“I did not intend to. Men are never as gentle as +women, though.” Hezekiah was playing a foxy game. +“A man is rougher. It is easy for him to hurt the +feelings of a sensitive person without having the slightest +intention of doing so.”</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i3'></a><img src='images/illus1.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +“<span class='sc'>This request appeared to require deep thought</span>” +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span>Virginia gave serious regard to memories of a pair +of black eyes. “I think Joe Curtis is very sensitive,” +she said softly.</p> + +<p>“Probably,” agreed the crafty Hezekiah.</p> + +<p>“Would you mind, Mr. Wilkins–” she gave the +lawyer an appealing glance after some moments of consideration–“if +I talked with Mr. Curtis about it?”</p> + +<p>This request appeared to require deep thought, judging +from the seriousness of Hezekiah’s face for a few +moments. Then it lightened as he decided, “I can see +no objection to your talking to Mr. Curtis.” The attorney’s +manner became cheery and hopeful. “Now, +if you two could arrive at a friendly settlement, it +might be a most satisfactory arrangement.” Hezekiah +slapped his palms together and squeezed his own fingers +as if shaking hands with himself at the successful +outcome of his benevolent moves. Then he chuckled +softly and went on, “Let’s see what kind of an adjustment +you two youngsters can make. If I can +approve it, I will be glad to submit it to your +father.”</p> + +<p>“I will see him as soon as I can, Mr. Wilkins. I +can’t go to the hospital this afternoon.” Virginia’s +manner became very dignified, as she continued, “I +am giving a concert, at the Lucinda Home.”</p> + +<p>“Delightful.” Hezekiah bowed low at the news.</p> + +<p>“I can see Mr. Curtis in the morning.”</p> + +<p>“That will be quite time enough. Don’t inconvenience +yourself, Virginia.” Hezekiah smiled as they +arose.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Wilkins, won’t you come to my concert?” +asked Virginia, shyly.</p> + +<p>“It would be a pleasure, indeed, but, business first, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span> +you know.” He waved his hands, palms upward, as if +protesting the lowness of his profit.</p> + +<p>“My father said that I might tell you that he would +be glad if you could arrange to come. He is out of +town.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, in that case–” Hezekiah’s manner was +courtly–“I deem myself highly privileged in accepting +your invitation.”</p> + +<p>As Virginia left Hezekiah’s office, she found herself +facing the open door of her father’s suite. Through +it Mr. Jones was visible at his desk, improving his mind +in Obadiah’s absence by reading a refined story by a +polished author concerning genteel people. Mr. Jones +needed physical rest and mental recreation. Upon the +previous evening, Mike Kelly had seized his person and +regardless of vigorous protests had put him through +such a series of calisthenics, runnings, jumpings and +rubbings that the particular soreness of each bone and +muscle had merged into one great and common ache.</p> + +<p>At the opening of Hezekiah’s door, Mr. Jones raised +his eyes and, consequently, his head. A wave of pain +swept his muscles. He grimaced frightfully. It was +upon this distorted countenance that Virginia gazed. +The terrifying effect of the face held the girl for a +second, but believing it occasioned by grievous illness +she hastened to the aid of the stricken one.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones instantly recognized her and the course of +destiny was made manifest. Regardless of untoward +events, his social merit was appreciated and now one +approached seeking counsel or bearing invitations to +social festivities. She should not seek in vain. Percy +Jones, private secretary and social adviser, was at her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span> +service. He sprang from his chair to meet the maid +of blood with knightly bow and courtly grace. Alack +and aday, that snare of the devil, his waste basket, was +misplaced. He tripped against it. To avoid the thing, +he raised his foot only to step into the throat-like neck +of the monster which instantly clove to his shoe. +Simultaneously, a flood of pain protested against his +violent movements. In his agony, Mr. Jones lost his +balance and fell over his desk. His outstretched hands +sought safe anchorage amidst ink stands and mucilage +bottles to rest finally in an ever spreading lake of ink.</p> + +<p>Virginia halted. Mr. Jones’s face, rent by emotion +and struggle, convinced her that he must be in parlous +case.</p> + +<p>Kelly hurried in at the crash. He observed Mr. +Jones’s predicament with great calmness. Nodding to +Virginia, he held the basket until the stenographer +could extract his foot. Then he turned to the girl and +said very soberly, in spite of the glint of amusement +in his eye, “Mr. Jones is the victim of an accident and +requests permission to retire and cleanse himself.”</p> + +<p>As the crestfallen private secretary departed, Kelly +and Virginia moved over to a window. The summer +day in all of its beauty fought back the ugliness of +the tin roofs and chimneys. The bookkeeper viewed +the prospect. “By gum,” he asked, “how’d you like +to go snowshoeing?” This marvelous witticism was +greeted by a burst of laughing applause from its author +and the girl, far in excess of its merit.</p> + +<p>“Jones doesn’t feel very well today,” Kelly explained +to her. “He is the victim of unusual exercise.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span>“He doesn’t look like a man who would over-exercise. +He does not strike me as a man who is in the +best of health,” she responded.</p> + +<p>“He isn’t. That’s why he’s so stiff and sore after +a few little stunts. He doesn’t get enough fresh air.” +Kelly cast a longing glance out of the window and +turned to inspect the room. “There isn’t enough fresh +air in this place, anyway. Jones has sat in here day +after day, sucking on cigarettes and beating on that +typewriter, until good health no longer knows him. +But,” announced the bookkeeper with great confidence, +“I am old Doctor Fix’em. I’m giving him a course +in physical training which will fix him. I’m going to +make that lad forget his present pains by giving him +worse ones.”</p> + +<p>“I think it is perfectly fine of you, Mr. Kelly, to +help Mr. Jones,” exclaimed Virginia, highly interested +in the bookkeeper’s plans for the benefit of the stenographer. +“It must make you very happy to be able +to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” he agreed. “I laugh myself sick every +time I give him a new stunt to do. That fellow has +good points. One of these days he’s going to have the +smile on some one else. You can’t keep a good man +down.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t I help Mr. Jones, too?” asked the girl +eagerly.</p> + +<p>Kelly stared at her in amazement. “No, it can’t +be done,” he cried, emphatically. “Whoever heard of +a woman trainer? You’ve had no experience anyway.”</p> + +<p>Virginia blushed. “I didn’t mean to help train +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span> +him.” She waxed indignant at the thought. “I only +offered to do those things which I could do.”</p> + +<p>“Oh–” Kelly was relieved–“go as far as you +like. There is plenty of chance for all on that fellow. +It would be dandy if you could work it to get him +out of doors once in awhile.”</p> + +<p>“Watch me,” she promised.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones reentered the room physically clean and +mentally chastened but deep in gloom. He had forgotten +that the darkest hour comes just before dawn. +Yet, a private secretary must not allow his personal +feelings to interfere with duty. He approached Virginia +in what might be described as a graceful manner +marred by lameness. “I regret the unfortunate occurrence +which delayed me,” he apologized. “If Miss +Dale wishes to see her father–”</p> + +<p>A pair of blue eyes rested upon him in the kindest +manner and a most attractive mouth said, “I know +that my father is away today and that neither of you +has much to do.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s official staff looked guilty.</p> + +<p>Virginia went on with enthusiasm. “We are going +to give a concert this afternoon for the old ladies at the +Lucinda Home. It will be lovely. A brass band–ice +cream–Mr. Wilkins–”</p> + +<p>The high interest of the young man cooled slightly +at the lawyer’s name, regardless of the pleasing company +in which he was mentioned.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you both come? You could help me so +much.”</p> + +<p>“We can’t get off,” declared the practical Kelly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, you can. My father said that I could invite +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +whom I pleased.” She turned pleadingly to Mr. Jones. +“You’ll come and bring Mr. Kelly, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>The victim of disaster was as one hypnotized by the +charm of her presence. Before the wiles of women, +his gallant soul became as putty. Mr. Jones stammered, +he stuttered, he blushed–and from his lips +came the whispered answer, “Yes, Ma’am.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span><a id='link_11'></a>CHAPTER XI<br /><span class='h2fs'>OLD HEARTS MADE YOUNG</span></h2> + +<p>Nature left nothing to be desired in the weather +as the hour approached for the concert at the Lucinda +Home. Over the closely shaven lawn and beneath the +shade of the trees lay the tranquillity of a summer’s +afternoon.</p> + +<p>This was disturbed, shortly after lunch, by the roaring +of the Dale car as it rushed up the curving driveway +to the main building. It was driven by Ike, and +Serena sat beside him in the purity of apparel, freshly +laundered and starched.</p> + +<p>But, even at this hour, the aged ladies had retired to +their apartments to make ready for the gaieties of the +late afternoon.</p> + +<p>The coming of the Dale car was the beginning of a +series of commotions in this haven of peace. A big +army truck arrived with a noise of thunder bringing +trestles and plank for a temporary band stand. It +stopped, and through the balmy silence sounded a +rough, coarse, masculine voice, “Where in the devil +do they want this blame thing?” Answered his companion, +“You can search me.”</p> + +<p>A window closed with a crash to shut out contamination +from such vulgar sources.</p> + +<p>As the army truck and its crew noisily departed, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span> +another machine entered the grounds. It was a quiet car, +not given to loud or uncouth uproar. Stealing up the +driveway, it stopped. Mr. Vivian emerged, garbed in +spotless white. Other soft stepping, mild mannered +men, similarly clothed, accompanied him, bearing +freezers of cream and boxes of cake.</p> + +<p>Serena entered into conference with the caterer. +“Des ole ladies dey wants der tea mo’e den yo’alls +sweet stuff.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Vivian appeared pained at such taste.</p> + +<p>Serena went on, “Ah’s gwine mek de tea in de +kitchen an’ surve it an’ de sandwiches outen de side +do’.”</p> + +<p>Disgust sat upon Mr. Vivian’s features. “I shall +serve the cream from under the trees, in the cool fresh +air,” he announced.</p> + +<p>“You gwine surve it full o’ bugs an’ flies den,” +predicted Serena.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vivian, through the exercise of self-control, +stood mute.</p> + +<p>Serena sought information. “Who gwine surve ma +tea an’ ma sandwiches?” she inquired.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vivian whistled a few measures of melody, +softly. Being thus engaged, he could not respond.</p> + +<p>Serena pressed for an answer. “Ain’ yo’all do +dat?”</p> + +<p>“Possibly my men may assist you,” the caterer conceded, +as he glanced at his assistants grouped at his +back.</p> + +<p>Serena was supported by Ike and several colored females, +employees of the Home, into whose good graces +the chauffeur was endeavoring to ingratiate himself.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span>The situation was tense.</p> + +<p>Serena’s hands were upon her hips and her entire +body vibrated. Her eyes glistened with rage and +rested menacingly upon the caterer. She was clothed +in an air of mystery. Her opponent could not determine +whether she proposed to rely upon logical argument, +abusive language, or physical violence.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vivian noted uneasily the mass of vibrant temper +he had aroused. He stood his ground, however, +and did not retreat.</p> + +<p>“Whoall is er givin’ dis yere sociable? Whoall +pays fo’ dis yere ’tainment? Ah asts you dat? Answer +me, whiteman?”</p> + +<p>Ike drew nigh, inclining an ear that he might miss +no word of the altercation. “Dats right,” he interjected +in a rich mellow voice.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vivian gave no heed to the aid and comfort +vouchsafed his adversary.</p> + +<p>“Ah tells you who pays. Ah’m right yere to tell +yo’all who pays,” proclaimed Serena. “Miss Virginy +done pay. Dat who.” Hers was a song of triumph +now. “Ahs her nu’se. Ah’s her housekeeper.” +She shook a great fist at the caterer. “Whiteman, +wot ah sez, ah means. Ef yo’all ain’ gwine surve ma +sandwiches an’ ma tea, jes tek yo’se’f an’ des yere white +waiters away f’om yere.”</p> + +<p>“Dat’s right,” concurred Ike, confident that he appeared +to good advantage before the employees of the +Home and that, through his stalwart support of Serena, +he was laying up treasure for a rainy day.</p> + +<p>“What’s all this talk about?” Mr. Vivian demanded +suddenly as if being a stranger to the controversy he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span> +sought enlightenment. “Who said that I wouldn’t +serve your sandwiches and tea?”</p> + +<p>Serena, after the manner of her generation, was +wise. She understood the whiteman and knew when +to stop war and resort to diplomacy. She whirled +upon the hapless Ike. “Ain’ yo’all got no bettah manners +an’ to stan’ der er listin’ at dis gent’men an’ me +a talkin’. You ’minds me o’ er ole turkey gobbler er +standin der wid you’ haid twisted.”</p> + +<p>Such an unlooked-for attack, from one with whom +he had publicly allied himself, grieved Ike sorely. He +retreated crestfallen and humiliated.</p> + +<p>When Virginia entered the kitchen she found Serena +and Mr. Vivian laboring diligently and as intimate +friends, decrying the efficiency of their assistants without +regard to color or previous condition of servitude.</p> + +<p>Another army truck brought the band. White collars +and ties showed festively above brass buttoned blue +coats. Hair, mustaches, and whiskers had been +dressed with extraordinary care, and aged musicians +looked from beneath campaign hats worn at a most +rakish angle. As they took possession of the stand, +there ensued a period of melancholy tootings as instruments +were adjusted and lips made supple.</p> + +<p>Excitement seized the old ladies at their toilets, as +these isolated blarings smote their ears. Certain partially +deaf ones, confident that the concert had begun +and desirous of missing no note of it, descended, minus +switches, false fronts and, indeed, in one case, an over-skirt. +These omissions became the subject of great +embarrassment when discovered later.</p> + +<p>As three o’clock approached, a prim calmness fell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span> +upon the inmates of the home when they assembled +stiffly gowned in best apparel.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah Wilkins, in holiday garb of silk hat and +cutaway frock, arrived. Mrs. Henderson came a few +moments later. Certain uninvited ancient men dressed +as for a fiesta followed. Mr. Jones and Kelly entered +the grounds with an air of having casually dropped in +and not intending to stay long. The stenographer +wore a natty suit, the check of which caught the discriminating +eye of Ike as it rounded the gate. At the +scheduled moment for the concert, Colonel Ryan approached +and, after saluting Virginia, seated himself +upon the porch and viewed the band with the pride and +pleasure of its proprietor.</p> + +<p>At the tap of the leader, the onlookers were dazzled +by golden reflections as the musicians lifted their instruments. +With a burst of harmony, Virginia’s concert +was on. Even at the first note, the stiff dignity +of the audience melted and they conversed. Women +whose taciturnity had been remarked for years in that +place of silence became loquacious.</p> + +<p>The concert made an attractive picture. The band +was upon the lawn in front of the building. On the +lower porch and in shady places about the grounds +were groups of aged women. Their white hair +blended softly with the dresses of grey and black, and +soft fichus or treasured bits of lace were drawn about +wrinkled necks by cameos and big brooches.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilkins conducted Mrs. Henderson to several +spots from which to hear the music. They were rejected +summarily by the fastidious widow on the +grounds of ants below or spiders above and the general +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span> +presence of bugs. Finally she made her own selection, +confessing a suspicion of the presence in concealment +of grasshoppers and the fear that the place was attractive +to frogs and grass snakes.</p> + +<p>Perceiving Hezekiah’s holiday attire and Mrs. Henderson’s +manner, Mr. Vivian deemed them important +personages and served them bountifully with his own +hands. He was rewarded by hearing the widow tell +her escort, “You can’t buy decent ice cream in South +Ridgefield. It’s all adulterated and unfit for human +consumption. The people who make such stuff should +be put in jail for life.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah chuckled contentedly. “Why not chop +off their heads?” he suggested kindly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vivian departed hastily.</p> + +<p>From their position they could see Virginia moving +busily about from group to group.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson indicated her. “There is a dear +girl,” she said fondly. “It’s Elinor Dale come back +again.”</p> + +<p>“Virginia is very like her mother,” he agreed.</p> + +<p>“Why did Elinor ever marry a man like Obadiah?” +she sighed.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah liked sandwiches. Particularly lettuce +sandwiches with mayonnaise dressing. Mrs. Henderson’s +question caught him unawares. “Wanted to,” +he mumbled through his mouthful.</p> + +<p>“Hezekiah Wilkins, an answer of that sort kills conversation. +You give me a sociable reply.”</p> + +<p>The muffling sandwiches had been gotten rid of. +“Fascinated,” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“Fascinated by a serpent,” sniffed Mrs. Henderson.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span>The inference that Obadiah was a reptile failed to +effect the appetite of his legal adviser. He appropriated +another sandwich.</p> + +<p>“Why do you work for him, anyway?” she demanded +sharply.</p> + +<p>“Money,” confessed Hezekiah, between bites.</p> + +<p>“Hezekiah, there is something about your conversation +which irritates me. I think that its brevity gets +on my nerves.” She gave him a questioning look. +“I want to talk seriously with an old friend, Hezekiah. +I want to ask him to do something for me.”</p> + +<p>He stopped eating and turned towards her. The +humor had faded from his face and in its place was a +certain sweetness with much of sorrow in it. “Over +twenty years ago, you asked me to be a brother to you, +Mary,” he said softly. “I have always tried to be a +good one–to be ready to obey your slightest wish.”</p> + +<p>There was pain and pity in her countenance as she +reached over and patted his hand. “I know it, Hezekiah,” +she whispered. “You have been too good a +brother to me. You should have married.” There +was a catch in her voice and her eyes were moist, when +she continued, “I never intended to condemn you to +a life of loneliness when I married Tom Henderson.”</p> + +<p>His thoughts flew back over the long years. “It +has been lonely, Mary,” he admitted. “Are you sorry +that I could not forget?”</p> + +<p>“No,” she whispered, winking back her tears. “It +has been a beautiful tribute–too beautiful for me. +I was never worthy of it.”</p> + +<p>“I am the better judge of that,” he murmured +quietly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span>For a time they were lost in the dreams of what +might have been, when they were disturbed by the big +booming laugh of Colonel Ryan.</p> + +<p>“Hezekiah Wilkins,” exclaimed Mrs. Henderson +with some sharpness, “we are a pair of sentimental +old fools to dig up the past. We should save our +strength for the future.”</p> + +<p>“Implying that we might better be preparing to dig +our own graves. Is that your idea?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>Indignant eyes in which but little sentiment lingered, +rested upon the lawyer. “I suppose that you wished +to be amusing, Hezekiah, but for a man noted for his +tact that was an inexcusably gruesome speech. We +may be old, as you intimate,” she snapped, “but we +have work to do before–we get busy on our own +graves.” Her gaze traveled across the lawn and came +to rest upon the girlish figure of Virginia standing beside +the Colonel. Hennie’s mood softened, and when +she spoke, it was as if she were thinking aloud. “If +we have met sorrow and disillusionment in our own +lives, Hezekiah, and with smiling lips have swallowed +the bitter mouthful, should we not be willing to keep +those whom we love from a similar experience?”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah bowed in sober agreement.</p> + +<p>“Virginia Dale is very happy this afternoon,” Mrs. +Henderson went on, “because she is doing what her +mother, Elinor, always loved to do–make others +happy. It has never entered her head that her father +is not generous and kind–that he is the mean and +selfish man that you and I know.”</p> + +<p>The widow reached over and laid her hand upon +that of the lawyer. “I am going to tell you a story, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span> +Hezekiah. It is about those good old days when you +and I used to dance and do other gay and frivolous +things–before we laid ourselves on the shelf.” Her +face saddened. “My story is mostly a guess,” she +continued, “and it is about what I think happened +to Elinor Dale in those long bedridden hours before +she died.”</p> + +<p>Again, he bowed and he was saddened, too, by the +memories she recalled.</p> + +<p>“It is my guess, Hezekiah,” she resumed, “that before +Elinor Dale died, the scales fell from her eyes and +she knew the true Obadiah.” Mrs. Henderson sighed. +“Poor Elinor knew that she had to go. Too loyal +to confide in any one, she wanted to fight his selfish influence +over her baby girl after she had gone. Let me +tell you what she did–the poor weapon she was +forced to resort to, Hezekiah.” The widow shook her +head sorrowfully. “Elinor marked a poem in a book +and pledged me to give it to Virginia on her eighteenth +birthday.</p> + +<p>“This afternoon is one of the first fruits of the +seed poor Elinor sowed years ago. Her daughter has +grown, thanks to poor Serena’s efforts–they ought +to be successful because I don’t believe that old negro +ever bought the child a hat without taking it up in her +prayers–into a beautiful woman. Fertile soil for +the crop her mother would harvest, but–” Mrs. Henderson +paused and her eyes flashed–“there is that +Obadiah. Only the kindness of fate has kept Virginia +from understanding him. When she does there will +be a day of reckoning.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson leaned towards Hezekiah and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span> +looked into his eyes with her own overflowing with a +great tenderness. “My faithful brother,” she whispered, +“when that day comes won’t you do your part +in keeping that sweet girl happy even as she is trying +to do it for these old ladies? In your way you can +do more than I can, Hezekiah. Won’t you do it for +Elinor?” She hesitated for a moment and continued, +very softly, very gently, “Won’t you do it for me?”</p> + +<p>He returned Hennie’s look, his face alight with tenderness. +“I will, Mary,” he promised.</p> + +<p>The activities of Mr. Jones at this period were interesting. +Regardless of his aches and pains, he +deemed it his duty, as Obadiah’s private secretary, to +assume an active part in making the entertainment a +success. With this in mind, he had volunteered his +services to Virginia. Rewarding him with a sweet +smile, she had sent him for a cup of tea. Mr. Jones +performed this errand with great expedition and dispatch, +thereby winning the gratitude of an aged tea +drinker. Virginia being busy, Mr. Jones determined +to exhibit his zeal in so signal a manner that it might +not be overlooked. Returning to the kitchen, he seized +a tray of edibles and, bearing it forth, began to distribute +its contents with great energy.</p> + +<p>Instantly, excitement seized the white coated waiters. +They laid aside their trays and conferred. Soon, +above the music, even above conversation, the notes +of a whistle sounded. It was not the piercing call of +a policeman or of a referee, it was not the pipe of a +boatswain, it was rather the low, mourning call of a +dove. As it smote the ears of Mr. Vivian he became +as one transfixed with horror. He became ghastly pale +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span> +as he recognized that the earnest efforts of Mr. Jones +alone stood between the guests and famine.</p> + +<p>Recovering himself, the caterer hurried towards his +assembled employees. From his manner it appeared +he hoped for the best but suspected the worst. +“What’s the matter here?” he demanded in low, tense +tones.</p> + +<p>“We have struck,” murmured the waiters.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vivian’s worst expectations were confirmed. +“Why?” he inquired, with the usual interest of employers +under similar circumstances.</p> + +<p>The strikers turned and pointed at the form of Mr. +Jones as he distributed a tray of viands with such +marvelous rapidity that the effect of the walkout was +as yet unnoticed by the aged. “Scab,” they hissed in +hostile sibilation. “Strikebreaker,” they groaned, impressed +by the wonderful dexterity of the stenographer.</p> + +<p>“Where did that bird come from?” demanded the +amazed Mr. Vivian as he viewed the skill of the gratuitous +laborer.</p> + +<p>“You know,” taunted an irate waiter; but Mr. +Vivian’s honest countenance gave him the lie in his +teeth, noiselessly.</p> + +<p>Curiosity held the little group. They examined Mr. +Jones’s work with professional interest, making surmises +as to his identity. “Looks like a jockey,” said +one. “More like a barber,” urged another. “I’ll bet +ten cents he is an ex-bartender,” wagered a sportive +character.</p> + +<p>Even as they watched, Mr. Jones approached Virginia, +offering her food with profound bows and +courtly manners.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span>“He is a waiter,” declared the strikers with one accord, +and again they rested suspicious eyes upon Mr. +Vivian.</p> + +<p>“That dub ain’t working for me,” affirmed the caterer.</p> + +<p>Much elated at successfully allaying famine, Mr. +Jones turned anew towards the kitchen. Had not Virginia +smiled upon him? He swung his tray and +whistled a merry tune. In the pleasure of serving +others, the aches and pains of the athlete were forgotten. +At the kitchen door he was surrounded by resolute +men.</p> + +<p>“Make no resistance,” a determined voice warned.</p> + +<p>The white coated mob moved away escorting Mr. +Jones as towards summary execution.</p> + +<p>Scenting happenings of interest, Ike followed.</p> + +<p>From the kitchen Serena sought information. +“Whar yo’all gwine?” she demanded.</p> + +<p>“Dey done struck. Yah–yah–yah,” laughed +Ike.</p> + +<p>“Shut you’ big mouf. Ah ain’ er astin’ you nothin’.” +Serena reproved the chauffeur and then she +charged into the midst of the mob. “Wot yo’all mean +a leavin’ ma trays an’ dirty dishes out in dat ya’d? +Ain’ you know how to wait?” Her eyes flashed her +indignation. “Go git ma dishes an’ ma trays afo’e +ah meks you move fas’er den you lak.”</p> + +<p>As snow before an April sun the strike melted. The +waiters departed hastily for their field of duty, leaving +Mr. Jones alone with Serena. She glared at him +fiercely. “How cum you mek ma waiters mad?” she +demanded.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span>Amazed at the strange results of his diligence, Mr. +Jones stood silent under her accusation.</p> + +<p>She inspected his slight figure contemptuously. +“Clea’ out,” she commanded, “afo ah lays ma han’ +on you an’ breks you, boy.”</p> + +<p>This last victim of woman’s tongue moved rapidly +towards the front lawn seeking safety amidst aged +women. On the way he passed a fellow sufferer.</p> + +<p>Serena’s cutting remarks had, for Ike, turned an +afternoon of pleasure and recreation into a time of humiliation. +Here was music, food, agreeable company, +all turned into dust by public reprimands. Yet the +inextinguishable fire of hope burned in his breast. In +the fullness of time, Serena might forget, allow him +to enter the kitchen as one in good standing and, in the +alluring company of the colored maids, to partake of +refreshments. Until then he must wait. Doing this, +he watched the assemblage with melancholy eyes. He +considered the band futile. It played no jazz. In an +unhappy hour, tobacco brings solace to man. Ike produced +a cigarette. Lighting it, he puffed nervously, +suspecting the use of the weed in this haunt of aged +women to be taboo. Happy laughter arose in the +kitchen easily identified as the hearty tones of Serena, +amused, a favorable augury to the courtier cooling his +heels in the ante room. Casting down his cigarette, +Ike turned to reconnoiter. The butt dropped beneath +the porch into some ancient leaves, damp but inflammable.</p> + +<p>The leaves ignited and smouldered. Fanned by a +gentle breeze the fire grew into a burning which produced +much smoke and little flame.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span>Upon the porch sat Mrs. Comfort Bean. Life to +her was an open book. She had survived three husbands. +The first, a drunkard, had drowned, not in +rum, but in the river into which he had the misfortune +to fall while returning home from a convivial evening +enjoyed with other gay lads at the village tavern. The +second, a gambler, was shot in an altercation over the +ill-timed presence of five aces in a card game. The +third, a fragile thing, had faded like a flower. Mrs. +Bean had neither regrets for, nor fear of, man. She +knew him too well. She had come to anchor in the +Lucinda Home like a storm ridden ship seeking safe +harbor after a stormy passage. Here lay a peace the +like of which she had never known.</p> + +<p>But one cloud rested upon her horizon. Mrs. Bean +was afraid of fire. She considered that because the +inmates could not dwell upon the ground floor of the +Home, the place was a fire trap and the most horrible +holocaust, not only possible but probable. To inure +herself to the inevitable, she read the harrowing details +of every fire involving fatalities.</p> + +<p>Having enjoyed refreshments, Mrs. Bean had retired +to the porch that she might listen to the music in the +peace of her own thoughts. She sniffed. It was but +a tentative sniff. Not a full, deep whiff. Such sniffs +she gave many times each day. “Somethin’s burnin’,” +said Mrs. Comfort Bean. Hearers being absent, there +was no sympathetic response. “I smell fire,” she announced +in louder tones. A phenomenon puzzled Mrs. +Bean’s highly developed olfactory nerves. Her nostrils +were assailed by the odor of ignited hay instead of +the fateful smell of burning wood.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span>The fire smouldered and spread. A gust of wind +came. Mrs. Comfort Bean, sniffing expectantly, was +enveloped in a thin cloud of smoke. It caught her +when, dissatisfied by preliminary investigations, she +had taken a full, deep whiff. Mrs. Bean was almost +asphyxiated. Gasping and choking she strangled in +the efficient smudge of Ike’s preparing. A change in +the wind relieved her. “Fire!” she screamed.</p> + +<p>As this fateful cry, anguish-toned, rang over the +festive throng, many an aged heart stood still. Shrieks +arose as well as answering alarms. For the moment +terror held them, and then certain women rushed for +the building that they might ascend to their apartments +and rescue choice possessions. Other more hardened +spirits removed their chairs to positions of advantage +that in greater comfort, they might “Watch the blamed +old thing burn down.”</p> + +<p>The coolness of military men was well exemplified +by Colonel Ryan. He arose from his chair at the first +alarm and shouted, “Sit down,” in a voice which had +arisen above the roar of cannon. Perceiving the stampede +towards the building, he thundered, “Two of +you waiters keep those women out of there.” In utter +disregard of the high cost of shoes, he roared, “Stamp +that fire out!” In searching tones, he demanded, +“Who set it?” No guilty man confessed, but Ike +became ill at ease and sought retirement in the crowd.</p> + +<p>The Colonel turned to the leader of the band which +rested between numbers. “Play!” he commanded. +These ancient musicians had little regard for modern +music. They loved the tuneful airs of the past and +were about to render some selections from “The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span> +Serenade.” At the word of the leader, the chorus from +“Don Jose of Seville,” the words of which run, “Let +her go, piff, paff,” pealed forth.</p> + +<p>To avert impending peril, Mrs. Comfort Bean had +remained upon the porch emitting loud screams at intervals +as if they were minute guns. She disappeared +into the hall. She was back in a moment. Kelly was +gazing beneath the porch at the smouldering leaves. +She called to him, “You big red-headed feller,” and +when he looked up, she screamed, “Fire extinguisher.”</p> + +<p>He nodded understandingly and in a moment had +procured the apparatus from the hall and carried it to +the end of the porch where a group of waiters, assisted +by their late enemy, Mr. Jones, were endeavoring to +stamp the fire out.</p> + +<p>For an instant Kelly perused the directions. Then +he inverted the extinguisher. There was a hissing as +of a monstrous snake. From the nozzle gushed a +fizzing, sizzling jet like a soda fountain in action. +Kelly whirled about to bring the stream to bear upon +the conflagration. As he turned, the frothing liquid +circled with him and cut the check suit of Mr. Jones, +the white coats of the waiters, and the Norfolk jacket +of Ike, at the waist line. Now arose the protests and +violent language of angry men.</p> + +<p>“You big chump, ain’t you got no sense?” gasped +Mr. Jones, ungrammatically.</p> + +<p>“Get out of the way so that I can put this fire out. +You are kicking it all over the place,” the bookkeeper +responded.</p> + +<p>“I have as much right here as you–you big lump +of grease,” proclaimed Mr. Jones as he inspected with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span> +indignation the dark colored belt with which he had +been invested.</p> + +<p>Kelly cast a menacing look at the stenographer. +“If you don’t shut up, I am going to stick this nozzle +down your throat,” he threatened.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones watched the fizzling stream as if estimating +its physiological effect under the conditions named, +and remained silent.</p> + +<p>Loud laughter sounded in the kitchen. Ike, cooled +by his bath, had presented himself for comforting.</p> + +<p>Serena thus welcomed him. “Dey souse you in +saltpeter an’ you done smoke youse’f so you mus’ be +cu’ed lak er ham. Sit by de stove. Ah gwine give +you er cup o’ coffee,” she chuckled, “ef yo’all smells +ham er feels youse’f er beginnin’ to fry, git out o’ yere +afo you greases de flo.”</p> + +<p>So Ike rested in comfort, sandwiches and coffee at +his side, and smiled pleasantly upon the maids. Truly, +after affliction, he had entered into the blessings of the +promised land.</p> + +<p>The fire was out. Kelly moved to return the extinguisher +to its place. With a thud, a white bundle +dropped from the third floor upon his head. It appeared +soft but upon its touch Kelly sank to the ground, +blinking vacantly.</p> + +<p>Forgetful of their recent altercation, Mr. Jones +rushed to his fellow worker’s assistance. “What’s the +matter?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>Kelly rubbed his head. “Somebody hit me with a +rock,” he answered, observing Mr. Jones meanwhile +with suspicion.</p> + +<p>The stenographer kicked the bundle open. Then, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span> +howling with pain, he grabbed his toe. In the center +of the bundle lay a mantel clock. “Might have killed +you–easy,” he spluttered at Kelly, and raised indignant +eyes to where an old woman, her wrinkled face +filled with anxiety, leaned over the railing. “Did you +throw that clock?” demanded Mr. Jones.</p> + +<p>She held her hand to her ear and smiled sweetly. +“What?” she called.</p> + +<p>“Clock,” bawled Mr. Jones. “Did you drop that +clock?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t hear you,” she answered.</p> + +<p>“Clock,” yelled the private secretary.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it’s mine. Thank you for telling me that it is +not hurt,” she responded in great contentment to the +vexed Mr. Jones.</p> + +<p>The reunited official staff of Obadiah moved on, one +member limping, the other caressing his head.</p> + +<p>Gentle peace returned for the moment to the emotion-swept +aged ones. But now, through the gates of the +Home rushes the fire department of South Ridgefield. +With awe inspiring roar and mighty clangor of bells +the engines advance, reflecting gorgeously in the afternoon +sun. Taxpayers must have thrilled with pride +as they remarked the speed of approach and energy +with which these public servants entered upon their +duties. Even as they halt, powerful pumps sound, +ready to deluge the edifice with water while enthusiastic +men with axes rush into the halls and upon the +roof, prepared to hew.</p> + +<p>“Where is the fire?” demanded the chief in a voice +of authority.</p> + +<p>Silently, Mrs. Bean led him to the blackened leaves.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span>“Who turned in that alarm?” he asked with great +sternness.</p> + +<p>“I did,” calmly replied the widow of three.</p> + +<p>For a moment he looked down into the wrinkled face +filled with the pride and satisfaction of duty well done. +He raised his helmet and scratched his head. “The +whole department out for a bonfire,” he grumbled.</p> + +<p>Virginia came and smiled timidly at this burly man. +“I am sorry that you have been given all of this trouble,” +she said. “I have arranged to serve refreshments +to your men, if you don’t object.”</p> + +<p>When his little hostess left him, the grim old fire +fighter stood at the head of the steps and gazed at the +waiters ministering with energy to the voracious appetites +of his men. “Huh,” he chuckled, “looks like +that blame bonfire cooked up a pretty good feed for my +boys.”</p> + +<p>The concert ended and the musicians awaited, in a +group, the truck which was to take them back to the +Soldiers’ Home. Colonel Ryan went to speak to the +leader. As he turned to Virginia, who had been at his +side, he discovered her thanking the members of the +organization individually for their part in the concert.</p> + +<p>“Your music was beautiful,” she told a cornet +player. “Every one enjoyed it so much.” She made +apology to the entire number. “It is too bad that the +fire alarm disturbed you.”</p> + +<p>“That weren’t no disturbance, Ma’am,” the cornetist +reassured her. He was bowed with age and had a +shrill cracked voice. Tucking his instrument under his +arm, he filled a disreputable pipe and went on. “No, +Ma’am, that weren’t what I’d call no disturbance. In +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span> +the war our old Colonel used to make us go out on the +skirmish line and play. Our leader allowed that the +rattle of bullets on the drum heads ruined the time.”</p> + +<p>“How brave of you,” Virginia marveled at this +thumping tale of war.</p> + +<p>“Had to be brave in my regiment, Ma’am. Old +Colonel Dean was a bob-cat and he expected his men to +be catamounts,” he cackled.</p> + +<p>A clarionetist chewed a stubby mustache and listened +to the remarks of the cornet player with a hostile air. +“They ain’t over their squallin’ yit,” he proclaimed, +and the musicians roared with laughter.</p> + +<p>Shaking his old pipe wrathfully at his fellows, the +man with the cornet challenged them. “Colonel Dean +was a bob-cat,” he maintained. “A ragin’, clawin’, +scratchin’, bob-cat of a fighter and the whole regiment +was just like the old man.”</p> + +<p>As the name Dean was mentioned, an old lady arose +from a group with whom she had been chatting and +drew near the musicians. She was tall and dignified +and a cap of lace was pinned upon her snowy head. +She peered at the cornetist through her spectacles. +“Were you speaking of Colonel Dean of the Infantry?” +she asked sweetly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Ma’am,” the cornet player growled. “I was +a talkin’ about old Colonel Dean of my regiment, a +ragin’, clawin’, scratchin’, fightin’ man.” His bellicose +tones indicated the danger of contradiction and displayed +a suspicion that his questioner lifted her voice +in behalf of his opponents.</p> + +<p>“Colonel Dean,” she said gently, “was my husband. +Were you with him at Shiloh?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span>A great change swept over the cornetist. He bowed +deeply, his hat sweeping the ground. His voice was +reverential, even tender, as he replied, “I was behind +him there, Ma’am–his bugler. I helped to carry him +from the field.”</p> + +<p>The group was very serious now. When the old +veteran spoke again he could not conceal the emotion +which shook him. “Colonel Dean lived a brave man, +Ma’am, and he died–” he hesitated, seeking words–“just +like a soldier orter die.” He straightened +proudly, his old eyes flashing. “Boys,” he called, +“my Colonel’s lady. Attention!” As one man they +stiffened. Each hand sought the rim of a hat and together +swept forward in the old time salute.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dean acknowledged the honor with a bow of +great dignity, but the wrinkled hand at her side was +shaking. For an instant the frail body held its poise +and then broke beneath the storm of feeling which +beset it. She seemed to shrink and would have fallen +had not Virginia caught the withered form in her arms +and helped the old lady to a seat. After a time the +tears were fewer and the sobs lessened.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dean turned to the girl. “Forgive me, child,” +she begged. “Forgive the weakness of an old +woman.” A withered hand stroked a soft white one. +“You have given me great happiness today, dearie.” +Her eyes returned to the waiting members of the band. +“I think,” she said very gently, “my soldier boys wish +to speak to me.” She arose and one by one and silently +the musicians came forward and took her hand.</p> + +<p>A little later Mrs. Henderson and Hezekiah found +Virginia at the foot of the steps where she had just +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span> +left Mrs. Dean. The girl was gazing off into the distance.</p> + +<p>“Virginia Dale, you have been crying,” Hennie said, +as she noted a telltale moisture of the eyes.</p> + +<p>“No, Hennie, I am wonderfully happy.”</p> + +<p>“So much so that you had to cry, dearie?” The +older woman smiled tenderly. Raising her hands she +caught Virginia’s cheeks between them and looked +down into the big blue eyes. “It was a success, dear–a +great success,” she giggled mischievously for one +of her years. “You told us, remember, that the place +needed stirring up. Bless your heart, you shook it +with an earthquake.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span><a id='link_12'></a>CHAPTER XII<br /><span class='h2fs'>MORE TROUBLE</span></h2> + +<p>“It is a fine form of advertisement and comes +cheap,” thought Obadiah as he read, with pleasure, +certain laudatory references to himself and his daughter, +in an article regarding the concert at the Lucinda +Home, prominently displayed in the morning paper.</p> + +<p>He told her about it. “There is a very nice account +of your concert at the Lucinda Home. They give you +great credit.” He glanced at her proudly. “You +made a Dale success of it, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>His words as well as her own satisfaction at the +outcome of the concert made Virginia very happy. +All that morning she sang as she went about her various +affairs in the big house until Serena smiled to herself +and muttered, “Dat chil’ is a mekin mo’e noise +an’ er jay bird er yellin’ caze de cher’ies is ripe.”</p> + +<p>The joyous mood was yet upon the girl when she +went to the hospital that afternoon and found Joe +Curtis sitting up in bed for the first time. “You are +looking fine,” she told him.</p> + +<p>“Don’t make me blush. I am a modest youth,” he +protested.</p> + +<p>Her cheeks flushed prettily. “I am not complimenting +your looks but your health.”</p> + +<p>“It is all due to the shave, anyway,” he grinned. +“The fatal symptoms are not so apparent.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span>She observed his face with interest. “It does look +smoother,” she admitted. “Who shaved you? Did +Miss Knight?”</p> + +<p>“Hush!” he whispered in mock terror. “Don’t +let her hear you. She didn’t shave me, but she might +want to. That would be the last straw. My proud +spirit would never survive the outrage of that woman +wielding a razor over my tender skin.”</p> + +<p>“I will ask her to shave you. Perhaps she may let +me help,” giggled Virginia.</p> + +<p>“I have always looked forward to your visits.”</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t be glad to see me even if I came to +shave you?” she demanded with severity.</p> + +<p>He closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>“Answer me,” she commanded in a stern voice.</p> + +<p>“I suffer great pain,” he groaned.</p> + +<p>“You are pretending. Answer my question.”</p> + +<p>With closed eyes he pondered aloud. “If she +shaved me, her hands would touch my face. They +would caress my cheeks, softly–”</p> + +<p>Virginia blushed. “I wouldn’t touch your face +for–for–anything,” she interrupted.</p> + +<p>“How would you shave me then? Who ever heard +of a barber who did not touch the face of the people +he shaved?”</p> + +<p>“I won’t do the shaving. I’ll bring the hot water. +It will be scalding hot, too,” she promised.</p> + +<p>“Coward,” he taunted her, “to scald a man with +three ribs and a leg broken.”</p> + +<p>She gave him a very friendly look for one supposed +to harbor such brutal intentions; but as he referred to +his injuries the fun died out of her face. “It is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span> +unfair for you to suffer while I bear no part of the punishment +for my own thoughtlessness.” Her lips trembled.</p> + +<p>Joe reached over and patted her hand. “It was my +own fault, I tell you,” he argued. “I am all hunky +dory now, anyway.”</p> + +<p>“I know that my father would be glad to help you. +Won’t you let him, please?” she begged.</p> + +<p>“I want no help.” His reply was brusque. “I am +able to take care of myself.”</p> + +<p>Virginia viewed him with thoughtful eyes. “I am +afraid, Joe,” she protested, “that you only look at this +matter from your own point of view. There is my +side, too. I want my conscience cleared of that old +accident. Every time I think of it, I am miserable. +Is it nice that I should be unhappy every time I think +of the first time I met you?”</p> + +<p>His mood softened and his eyes showed it by their +tenderness. “I want every minute of your life to be +happy,” he said with warmth.</p> + +<p>She reddened under his words but was quick to follow +up her advantage. “Help me to be, then,” she +pleaded.</p> + +<p>“There should be a way to satisfy us both,” he admitted. +He dropped his head back upon his pillow and +studied the ceiling for a time. He made a suggestion +but she shook her head violently.</p> + +<p>She urged something and watched him expectantly.</p> + +<p>All at once he began to chuckle. “I have it,” he +cried.</p> + +<p>She leaned towards him and for a long time they +were engaged in a conversation which gave them both +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span> +great pleasure and aroused their enthusiasm to the highest +degree.</p> + +<p>Miss Knight came along the aisle and stopped at +Joe’s bedside. “You people are having such a good +time that I have to come and get into it.”</p> + +<p>They welcomed her as an intimate friend.</p> + +<p>“We’ll have Joe out in a roller chair before long,” +the nurse boasted. “That will be pleasanter because +he can receive his visitors on the lawn these fine days,” +she giggled. “After that it won’t be long until the +hour of sad farewells, will it, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you worry, there will be no tears in my +farewell I can tell you. I shall be so delighted to +get from under your tyrannical sway that I am afraid +my joy will give me a relapse and keep me in your +clutches.”</p> + +<p>Miss Knight shook her head at the depravity of men. +“How’s that for ungratefulness? They bring him +to me helpless with pain and I bring him back to health. +Now he calls me a tyrant. Is that the way to reward +a faithful and devoted nurse?”</p> + +<p>“Listen a minute, Knightie,” begged Joe.</p> + +<p>Virginia laughed barefacedly.</p> + +<p>Miss Knight squelched the motorcyclist with a look, +and addressed her remarks to Virginia. “Did you +hear that, now? <i>Knightie</i>–what kind of a way is +that to address a lady? The minute you utter a kind +word near him, he gets gay. He’s the freshest thing +I ever had in this ward.” She shook her head with +weariness. “I’ve done my part. I have tried to train +him.”</p> + +<p>Joe attempted to smooth the ruffled feelings of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span> +nurse. “Sister,” he expostulated, “you don’t get +me–”</p> + +<p>“Say,” snapped Miss Knight, “if you don’t cut out +that ‘sister’ habit I’ll get you all right before I am +done with you.”</p> + +<p>“Help!” groaned Joe. “What kind of a dump is +this anyway? They cure my leg but ruin my disposition. +No one could ever be the same after two months +in this ward.”</p> + +<p>“I improve them in mind and body,” Miss Knight +boasted.</p> + +<p>“You don’t improve a thing,” he retorted. “This +place is a mad house. I am kept awake by the voices +of patients asking for poison to put them out of their +misery.”</p> + +<p>“Those voices are calling for cooling drinks these +warm nights, which,” the nurse declared ruefully, “I +have to prepare in the hot afternoons.” Determination +seized her. “Joe Curtis,” she exclaimed, “you have +had enough lemonade this week to bathe in and I have +carried it to you. Unless you apologize immediately +you will get no more. There now.”</p> + +<p>Before such a threat, Joe meekly surrendered and +thus addressed the stern-faced nurse. “Miss Knight, +after listening to your bawling out, I know that I +should have called you ‘Rapper’ instead of ‘Knightie,’ +and I wouldn’t have you as a sister at any price.”</p> + +<p>The nurse tossed her head in disdain. “I don’t +care to be related to a motorcyclist,” she announced.</p> + +<p>Joe grinned at Virginia. “What did I tell you? +No one cares for a motorcyclist. They have no +friends, even in a hospital.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span>“Why should any one care about them? Their +troubles are due to their own foolishness. They are +a noisy pest in the streets and they get themselves hurt +and take up bed space in hospitals which might be devoted +to better uses.” Miss Knight’s seriousness gave +way and her eyes danced. “And they make their +nurses like them in spite of it all,” she laughed as she +hurried away to another patient.</p> + +<p>Virginia watched Joe thoughtfully. “You take a +strange way to show Miss Knight that you like her,” +she told him. “You are always in an argument with +her.”</p> + +<p>“She starts the scrap, not I.”</p> + +<p>“But you make her do it!”</p> + +<p>“No,” he declared with earnestness, “she jumps on +me to stir things up and give her something to talk +about.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand you at all, Joe. You treat Miss +Knight so differently from the way you treat me. Yet, +you like her,” Virginia urged.</p> + +<p>“It’s such great sport teasing her.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you tease me?”</p> + +<p>Joe considered the question. “I don’t know,” he +answered frankly. “I suppose it is because you are +different.”</p> + +<p>Curiosity seized her. “How am I different?”</p> + +<p>Great embarrassment held his tongue.</p> + +<p>She was insistent. “Won’t you answer my question?” +she begged.</p> + +<p>“It’s a hard one. Perhaps I can’t answer it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, you can. Try.”</p> + +<p>He made the attempt. “Perhaps it is because I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span> +have known girls like Miss Knight all of my life. I +played with them when I was a kid, went to school +with them, and, since I have been older, called on them +and took them to dances.”</p> + +<p>“Did you ever take them out on your motorcycle?” +demanded Virginia almost sharply.</p> + +<p>The question surprised him. “No, I never had another +seat on my wheel. Why?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing.” She was very indifferent now. +“I don’t think that I approve of girls on motorcycles. +Go on,” she urged. “You were telling about taking +girls to dances. Where else did you take them?”</p> + +<p>He thought a moment. “Sometimes I took them to +Vivian’s and had ice cream or took them to a motion +picture show.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, what fun.” Virginia was thinking aloud.</p> + +<p>“What?” he asked.</p> + +<p>She very calmly disregarded his question. “You +haven’t told me how I am different,” she relentlessly +persisted. “Please do.”</p> + +<p>“It was the way we met, I suppose–the way I saw +you first,” he confessed, fighting back his embarrassment.</p> + +<p>“Tell me about it, Joe,” she pleaded softly.</p> + +<p>“I was regaining consciousness after the accident. +My whole body was a great pain. I was trying to understand +what had happened.” He hesitated and then +went on. “I opened my eyes. For an instant everything +was blurred and indistinct. Things were whirling +about in mists and billowy clouds. They rolled +apart and through them, constantly growing clearer, +came your face.” He was almost whispering now. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span> +“You looked too beautiful for this world and I believed +that I was dead.” A little smile like a wavelet +before a summer’s zephyr swept over his face. “You +are a girl from the clouds to me,” he said gently.</p> + +<p>A very flushed Virginia leaned towards him. A +great tenderness for this big fellow held her, and for +a moment she could not trust herself to speak. She +reached for his hand and held it in her own. “I must +go,” she murmured, as if driven away by her own +timidity, and then, giving him a smile of ineffable +sweetness, she left him.</p> + +<p>Joe Curtis was so tumultuously happy for the rest +of that afternoon that it was necessary for Miss Knight +to reprove him on no less than three occasions.</p> + +<p>Virginia called again upon Mr. Wilkins after leaving +the hospital. Her business with the lawyer was speedily +dispatched, and upon her departure for home, Hezekiah +presented himself before Obadiah for conference.</p> + +<p>The manufacturer glanced at his counsel and indicated +a seat. “I was on the point of sending for +you,” he told Hezekiah, and in a characteristic way +went right to the matter upon his mind. “The river +water is bothering somebody again. They have started +that old row about the chemicals and dyes in the waste +from the dye-house at the mill poisoning the water. +The State Board of Health is trying to tell me that it +makes the water unfit for consumption in the towns +below and is responsible for certain forms of sickness +which have appeared.”</p> + +<p>“That’s bad.” Hezekiah looked at the ceiling.</p> + +<p>“What’s bad?” demanded Obadiah with asperity.</p> + +<p>“The sickness,” the lawyer explained thoughtfully.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span>“Oh, I thought you meant the waste from the dye-house,” +snarled Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“Well, isn’t that bad, too? I certainly am glad +that South Ridgefield doesn’t take the water for its +supply below your mill. I shouldn’t care to drink it, +would you?” Hezekiah could be frank.</p> + +<p>“What I want to drink is not the question,” snapped +Obadiah, raising his voice a tone. The attitude of his +attorney had aroused his displeasure.</p> + +<p>“No,” Hezekiah went on, “it’s what you can make +the other fellow drink which interests you.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah considered the lawyer’s remarks unfortunate +even if true. “I am not trying to make anybody +drink. These people have been drinking the same +water for years and now some troublemaker stirs up a +hornets’ nest,” he stormed. “They want to force me +to build three thousand feet of sewer to connect up +with the city system and its new fangled sewage disposal +plant. I suppose this town would want +rent for that, too. Did you ever hear of such foolishness?”</p> + +<p>The lawyer cast a keen glance at his employer. +“Don’t forget,” he suggested, “that you have doubled +the capacity of your mill in the last few years and +are running twice as much waste into the river as formerly.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care,” roared Obadiah, in a high key. “It +will cost several thousand dollars to do what they want. +Let those towns take care of themselves. They must +mistake me for a philanthropist trying to give my +money away.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah removed his glasses and closed his eyes as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span> +if desirous that no point, in the interesting thought of +Obadiah giving anything away, might perchance escape +him.</p> + +<p>“I won’t do it,” bleated Obadiah, striking the desk +a resounding thump which made Hezekiah open his +eyes with a start. “I have been running waste into +that river for years and I intend to keep on doing it.” +He glared at the lawyer. “You look up the decisions +and be prepared to make those people drink ink if I +want to put it into the river.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah arose and moved over to the window. +Possibly the ascertainment of a legal method to force +citizens to accept writing fluid as a beverage perplexed +him. Yet, it couldn’t have been that, because his eyes +danced with the glee of a mischievous school boy, and +he seemed to have difficulty in suppressing inward +mirth, as one wishing to perpetrate a huge joke with +appropriate gravity.</p> + +<p>In a moment he came back and faced Obadiah. +“You will be glad to know that a settlement has been +reached with young Curtis,” he announced impressively.</p> + +<p>“You have kept Virginia out of court proceedings?”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah nodded.</p> + +<p>Obadiah appeared relieved. “That is fine. I +would look like a fool with my own daughter testifying +against me in court.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah was trying to catch Obadiah’s eye. “It is +going to cost you some money,” he explained. “I +warned you that young people have no idea of the value +of money. Remember, you authorized me to make the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span> +best settlement that I could,” he sternly reminded the +mill owner.</p> + +<p>Obadiah shrugged his shoulders irritably. “Yes, I +am bound by any nonsensical agreement you have +made.”</p> + +<p>The attorney’s voice was cold, and there was a glint +of steel in his eyes as he answered, “If you don’t care +to accept the compromise for which I accept sole responsibility, +it is your privilege to reject it and take–the +consequences.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah leaped to his feet and rushing to his lawyer +patted him upon the shoulder. “Don’t be so touchy, +Hezekiah,” he exclaimed. “Have I ever failed to support +you?”</p> + +<p>“No,” Hezekiah admitted, “and you never will–but +once.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah was desirous of placating his counsel. +“You misunderstand me.”</p> + +<p>“I probably understand you better than any one else +on earth.”</p> + +<p>The remark made the manufacturer uncomfortable. +“Forget it,” he pleaded. “I agree to any arrangement +which you have made, because of my friendship, +if for no other reason.” He shook the lawyer’s hand. +“Explain the agreement. I consent.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah’s manner was too calm. It was like the +lull before a storm. “You pay no money to the injured +man,” he announced.</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s face registered his surprise. “What the +devil?” he cried.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah gave no heed to this remark but went on +with the solemnity of a judge sentencing a prisoner. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span> +“You have agreed to furnish and to endow for a period +of five years, a private room at the South Ridgefield +Hospital to be used exclusively for the care and +treatment of injured motorcyclists.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span><a id='link_13'></a>CHAPTER XIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>VIRGINIA HELPS AGAIN</span></h2> + +<p>When Obadiah received the formal notice from the +hospital authorities of the acceptance of his gift, being +unversed in the ways of philanthropists, he sent for +Hezekiah and handed him the letter. “I want nothing +to do with this matter,” he snapped.</p> + +<p>The lawyer bowed with great complacency.</p> + +<p>“You may be interested to know, as you didn’t take +the trouble to find out,” the mill owner sneered, “that +this fellow, Joseph Tolliver Curtis, is employed by the +State Board of Health. He spent his time prior to +the accident riding up and down the river taking samples +of the water to make a case against me.”</p> + +<p>“Ahem,” coughed the lawyer.</p> + +<p>“If that fellow were getting a cent out of the agreement,” +Obadiah threatened, “I would break it.”</p> + +<p>“No, you wouldn’t,” replied the lawyer calmly. “I +drew it and it’s enforceable. If necessary I would go +into court myself to make you keep it.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah glowered, but his eyes fell before those of +his attorney. “Well,” he growled finally, “we won’t +quarrel over it. You handle the matter.” A look of +distress came into his face. “I’ll sign the checks but +I don’t want to talk about it.”</p> + +<p>So, even though her father refused to discuss the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span> +subject Virginia took up the matter of furnishing the +room with great enthusiasm. She sought advice from +many persons but particularly from Joe Curtis, who +was deemed, through sad experience, capable of expressing +the desires of injured motorcyclists, and Miss +Knight, who by long service had learned those things +which were not good for them.</p> + +<p>After prolonged discussion, Virginia and Joe decided +that the room should be papered in an old fashioned +design with a background of egg-shell blue. +The windows were to be curtained with a fine net having +a filet edge, and the furniture was to be of massive +mahogany. Pictures portraying sporting scenes believed +suitable by Joe and of gentle landscapes considered +appropriate by the girl were to adorn the walls +in equal number. A harmonizing smoking set was +added, and the floor was to be strewn with Oriental +rugs. Thus furnished, it was confidently argued, the +room would be restful and agreeable to the most discriminating +of motorcyclists.</p> + +<p>When this plan was presented with pride to Miss +Knight, she addressed the pair in a sarcastic manner, +“Did you by chance have in mind the furnishing of a +bridal suite? Haven’t you forgotten a breakfast room +and a pipe organ?”</p> + +<p>Reduced to a fitting condition of humbleness they +sat at her feet, so to speak, as she discoursed. “The +room set aside is bright and cheery. Its walls, windows +and floor need no treatment. Put in a double +enameled bedstead–a brass one if you like. Have +an enameled dresser and a plain rocker and chairs of +similar type. You may have a plain wardrobe and an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span> +enameled medicine table, too. That’s all.” She +smiled at them. “I have conceded a lot, too.”</p> + +<p>“You have beautiful taste, Miss Knight. Don’t +you think so, Joe?” remarked Virginia with great +solemnity.</p> + +<p>The motorcyclist nodded a vigorous agreement.</p> + +<p>Thus encouraged the nurse became didactic. “The +furnishing of a room for the sick,” she lectured, “is +not a matter of taste. It is a question of cleanliness. +Give me a clean place with plenty of fresh air and +sunshine–nothing else counts.” Before such simplicity +the pretentious plans faded, and in the end +the wisdom of the nurse prevailed.</p> + +<p>When Virginia left the ward that day it had grown +extremely warm. “Hotter than fiddlers in Tophet,” +Miss Knight called it.</p> + +<p>“Where are those poor babies?” Virginia asked, as +from a distant part of the building came the petulant +sound of infants protesting in the only way they could +against the high temperature.</p> + +<p>“They are in the Free Dispensary,–the cases which +are brought in from the outside. They would wring +your heart,” the nurse answered.</p> + +<p>Distress showed in Virginia’s face. “I am going +there and see if I can help,” she cried, and with a parting +smile at Miss Knight she hurried to the Dispensary.</p> + +<p>Doctor Jackson nodded to her as she entered. +“Every degree that the temperature rises means more +sick babies,” he worried.</p> + +<p>The peevish, fretful cries of the infants and the troubled +looks of the worn mothers filled the girl with pity. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span> +“How dreadful, Doctor. The poor darlings. I wish +I could help them,” she said.</p> + +<p>The medical man glanced at her with new interest. +“Miss Dale, didn’t you give that concert at the Lucinda +Home?” he asked.</p> + +<p>When she answered him in the affirmative he came +over to her. His duck suit was rumpled and his collar +wilted. His hair was mussed where he had mopped +it back. In his hand was a clinical thermometer and +an odor of drugs surrounded him. “Miss Dale,” he +urged, “why don’t you get up a picnic and take these +mothers and babies into the country for a few hours? +You entertained the old ladies but you would save lives +if you could arrange to get some of these babies into a +cool place for awhile.” He became apologetic. “I +don’t mean to be insistent but I am interested in my +work and if I can keep any of them from dying in this +heat spell, I want to do it. You understand me, don’t +you?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed I do, Doctor Jackson. I will be only too +glad to get up a picnic.” A note of anxiety crept into +her voice. “There isn’t much time to prepare. If it +is to do good, we must have it at once.”</p> + +<p>“Tomorrow, by all means,” urged the physician. +“Let’s go to it.”</p> + +<p>His enthusiasm filled her with energy. “It will be +dandy,” she cried, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. +“It will be difficult to arrange for, but we can do it.”</p> + +<p>The young medical man gave this pretty girl, flushed +with interest and confidence, a look of frank admiration. +“That’s the ticket,” he shouted, tossing professional +dignity to the winds for the moment. “You +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span> +can make things hum. Hop to it, kiddo.” Then more +seriously, “Let me know late this afternoon the arrangements +you have made. Call me by phone. I’ll +get word to the mothers if I have to carry it myself +this evening.”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s head was awhirl with vague plans when +she left the hospital.</p> + +<p>On the way she espied Mrs. Henderson hurrying +down the street in utter disregard of the fiery +heat.</p> + +<p>“Get in, Hennie,” called Virginia, when Ike stopped +the car. “I must talk to you and I want to make you +as comfortable as I can.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t mind me, child,” protested the widow. “I +am a hardened sinner whom it behooves to become accustomed +to heat.”</p> + +<p>In a few words the girl explained the plan for the +picnic.</p> + +<p>“It is a splendid thing to do,” Mrs. Henderson +agreed. “Of course I’ll be glad to help. Good gracious, +sick babies all around us and at our church we +are dawdling over a new bell rope and a lock for the +front door.”</p> + +<p>“It is such a relief to know that you are going to +help,” exclaimed Virginia; “but away down in my +heart I knew that you would.”</p> + +<p>“There, there, dearie, I’m an old crank who is always +minding other people’s business–and getting +kicked for it,” she ended petulantly. “Hereafter,” +she affirmed emphatically, “I am going to attend to my +own affairs.” A great energy filled her and she turned +to Virginia, her own words forgotten. “What can I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span> +do? If you will let Serena help me, I will attend to +the refreshments.”</p> + +<p>“Hennie, you are a dear–that much is settled.” +Virginia sighed with relief. “Now where can we have +the picnic? Parks which have bands and dancing +won’t do at all.”</p> + +<p>“You are right. These mothers and babies need +rest and quiet. A grove by the river would be ideal.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, surely, that is where we must go.” The girl +waxed enthusiastic. “The babies can roll upon the +grass and play together.”</p> + +<p>“Fiddlesticks,” objected Mrs. Henderson. “If you +put babies on the ground they will eat bugs, and if you +allow them to roll they will go into the river.”</p> + +<p>“But they must be entertained.”</p> + +<p>“Proper entertainment for babies,” observed the +childless widow sagely, “is eating and sleeping with +crying to while away leisure moments.” She leaned +towards Ike. “Young man, do you know of a shady +place along the river where we can have a picnic?”</p> + +<p>“Yas’m,” responded the ever courteous chauffeur. +“Elgin’s Grove is er nice place fo’ er picnic or a +barbecue. Heaps o’ shade an’ de aiah is mighty cool.”</p> + +<p>“Who goes there?”</p> + +<p>“Ah ain’ heard about nobody gwine dyah lately, +Ma’m.”</p> + +<p>“What made people stop going?” asked the widow, +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“Dey fou’t dyah. Er man got killed in er fight an’ +de she’iff close de gamblin’ house. Ain’ nothin’ to go +dyah fo’ now.”</p> + +<p>“It is very strange that I never heard of the place.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span>“Maybe dey done specify it to you by de common +folk’s name?”</p> + +<p>“What’s that?”</p> + +<p>“Some folks calls it Faro Beach.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson gasped. The name recalled shocking +stories of a river resort where games of chance had +flourished in open disregard of the law until a murder +had awakened public conscience and it had been closed. +“I wouldn’t think of going there,” she objected, and +suddenly she began to laugh. “We are creatures of +convention. What difference does it make what the +place was? Indeed, if they were gambling now it +wouldn’t hurt these mothers and their babies.” Her +manner became decisive. “Virginia, as soon as you +have your lunch, go and see the place. If it is what +we want, make arrangements for the use of it. We +don’t care about its history.”</p> + +<p>Strange as it may seem, when Virginia arrived at +Elgin’s Grove that afternoon she found that Ike’s description +was not exaggerated. Great oaks towered +towards the blue sky shading a green sod, clear of +underbrush, rolling towards the river. The buildings +were good, although locked, and there was a well with +a pump at which Ike, much oppressed by the heat, refreshed +himself, and recommended the water to Virginia +as of superior quality, in these words. “It +tast’tes lak de water f’om de seep back o’ ma ole home +in Tennessee. Dats de fines’ water in de worl’.”</p> + +<p>The owner of the grove, a farmer, living a bachelor +existence, after listening in a cold and suspicious manner +to Virginia’s enthusiastic description of the purposes +of the picnic, suddenly thawed. Refusing pay +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +for the grove, he announced his personal desire to be +present. Having been straightway invited by Virginia, +he agreed to unlock a building to afford shelter +in case of rain, mow among the trees to scare out the +snakes, and to clean out the well to insure a pure water +supply. “Coming on the <i>Nancy Jane</i>?” he asked her.</p> + +<p>“<i>The Nancy Jane?</i>” questioned the girl.</p> + +<p>“Yes, the steamboat that used to run here.”</p> + +<p>Virginia became interested. “I didn’t know that +steamboats ran on this river.”</p> + +<p>“The <i>Nancy Jane</i> ain’t exactly running,” admitted +the farmer. “She is tied up at South Ridgefield unless +she’s sunk since last week. The <i>Nancy Jane</i> is the +best way to get to this grove and old Bill Quince is +the man to bring the old boat here. Bill Quince knows +this river.”</p> + +<p>“Would it be safe to bring the babies on it?” Virginia +asked, troubled.</p> + +<p>The farmer chuckled softly. “You ain’t in nigh as +much danger of drownin’ on the old Lame Moose as +of stickin’.”</p> + +<p>“That doesn’t seem such a terrible calamity,” +laughed Virginia. “I will see Mr. Quince and inquire +about his boat.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a nice trip, Ma’am,” the farmer encouraged +her. “Bill Quince made it twice a day for two years +a-carrying drunks, mostly, with nary an accident. He +is a fine man. A natural born sailor, Bill is. Takes +to the water like a duck. You won’t make no mistake +a trustin’ Bill Quince, I promise you, Ma’am.”</p> + +<p>“Dat Mr. Quince is er gran’ man,” Ike told Virginia, +on their journey home. “He done save de life +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span> +o’ er po’ colored boy wot was er fishin’ off de bank by +his house. De pole dat de boy cut f’om de bresh ain’ +long ’nough to rech out to de deep water whar de big +fishes is. He done git hisse’f er plank an’ puts one +end under er log an’ rest’tes de middle on a rock at +de aidge o’ de bank. Den he clum out on tother en’ +ovah de water. Long come ’nother boy an’ rolls de +log. De fisherman draps in de river. He done sink +de secon’ time an’ give er scan’lous yell. Mr. Quince +rest’tes hisse’f by de house an’ he hear ’im. Mr. +Quince tek er quick look an’ den he grab er pole wid +er i’on hook off de house an hooks de boy in de britches +an’ hauls ’im out, jes as he sink de las’ time. Den he +stan’s dat kid on his haid an’ let de water run outen +him an’ puts ointment on his purson, whar de hook dig +’im. He ain’ no time think ’bout de floater money.”</p> + +<p>“What money?” inquired Virginia, much interested.</p> + +<p>“De floater money. Mr. Quince bein’ er river man, +he catches de daid wot floats down de river, an’ de +county dey give ’im ten dollars fo’ each floater he git. +Dat boy jes de same as daid. If Mr. Quince catch +’m er minute later, er hol’ ’im undah er minute, dat +boy die an’ Mr. Quince git ten dollars. Dat man is +er hero, Miss Virginy.”</p> + +<p>The girl shuddered. “Stop talking about dead people, +Ike, you make me nervous,” she remonstrated, and, +as they crossed the bridge, a creepy Virginia thought +she caught shadowy glimpses in the green depths of +a gruesome opportunity for Mr. Quince to win anew +a reward from his grateful county.</p> + +<p>The habitation of Mr. Quince presented much of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span> +interest. It was airily although damply situated at the +point of a promontory where Hog Creek emptied its +limited flow into the Lame Moose River. The site was +desirable for a man of Mr. Quince’s tastes and aspirations. +Upon the one hand, the river afforded a pleasant +marine foreground for the abattoirs and packing-houses, +veiled in odoriferous smoke, upon the opposite +shore. On the other hand, the quiet waters of Hog +Creek offered a safe anchorage for the good ship +<i>Nancy Jane</i> and a fleet of skiffs in various stages of +decay.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince was a man of ingenuity and resourcefulness, +and a natural forager. On the day that he +selected this site, for the sojournment of himself and +a stray youth who had elected to follow his fortunes, +Mr. Quince built a fire and cooked some fish. The +next sun saw a brush leanto constructed, shortly made +impervious to rain by a covering of old canvas. This +structure was followed in turn, as freshets deposited +their beneficent fruits, by a board shack, a hut and at +last a something which a charitable public called a +house.</p> + +<p>While the evolution of Mr. Quince’s fireside furnished +much of professional interest to sociologists, it +was viewed by that soulless corporation which owned +the land, a railroad company, as an attempt to establish +adverse possession, by open, notorious, and hostile +occupancy. Divers ejectments, although temporarily +successful, failed of permanent effect and Mr. Quince +dwelt in more or less of a state of siege.</p> + +<p>Virginia found the riverman seated before his house, +in a chair shaped out of a barrel, and prevented from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span> +being mislaid by its permanent attachment to a post +in the ground. His experienced eyes watched the surface +of the river for signs of treasure trove awash. +Upon the front of his residence, conveniently at hand, +hung the pole with the iron hook, while, at the foot of +a precipitous pathway, an old skiff bobbed, readily +available to meet emergencies of the deep.</p> + +<p>The arrival of the automobile startled Mr. Quince. +To this aquatic man, a boat upon the river offered the +more agreeable pathway to his home. He arose nervously, +as one suspecting ejectment proceedings. The +wind blew his patched overalls and flannel shirt about +his tall, thin figure.</p> + +<p>Ike, bowing respectfully, spoke words of greeting. +“Howdy, Bill.”</p> + +<p>“Howdy,” returned the mariner, calmed by the +thought that it was not the custom of courts to rely +upon such instrumentalities as negro chauffeurs and +young maidens.</p> + +<p>“We want to rent your boat for a picnic at Elgin’s +Grove tomorrow,” called Virginia.</p> + +<p>The tender of charter appeared to surprise Mr. +Quince. He removed his ancient hat and scratched +his scalp.</p> + +<p>“Where is your boat?” Virginia looked about as +if expecting to discover the <i>Priscilla</i> or <i>Commonwealth</i> +at rest upon the bosom of Hog Creek.</p> + +<p>The riverman pointed and the girl’s eyes followed +his finger.</p> + +<p>On the creek floated a monument to the ingenuity of +Bill Quince. Contrary to accepted naval traditions, +the <i>Nancy Jane</i> was in two parts. A rusty traction +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span> +engine rested upon a decked scow almost square in +form. It was geared by belt, chains and sprockets to +a water wheel as wide as the scow and attached to its +stern. This was the power plant, and, coupled to +the front of it, was a second scow of like width but +greater length. Decked over, railed, and covered by +a wooden canopy, it furnished the passenger accommodations +of the craft.</p> + +<p>Such disappointment as Virginia felt was swept +aside by the profound admiration of Ike for this vessel.</p> + +<p>“Dat’s er fine boat,” he exclaimed. “Ah done +had ma good times on dat ole boat. When you gits +out on de cool river on dat ship you feels like er +fightin’ cock on er hot night.”</p> + +<p>Ike’s reference to the cool river encouraged his mistress +to continue negotiations. “Can we rent it?” +she asked.</p> + +<p>“You kin rent it if you want to. They hain’t no +law again it,” the mariner agreed. “But I hain’t sure +that she’s goin’ to move none.” His sporting blood +was aroused. “I’ll bet two bits that old engine is +a-rusted tight.”</p> + +<p>Virginia desired certainty. “How am I going to +find out if the boat will go?” she worried.</p> + +<p>Approaching the car, Mr. Quince rested an elbow +upon the edge of the door and a huge foot upon the +running board. His thin jaw wagged incessantly and +his eyes viewed the distant reaches of the river as he +pensively ruminated upon the problem. At last a +solution came to him. “We mought hist ’er over by +hand,” he told Ike.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span>“Do what?” the girl inquired anxiously, puzzled at +what was to be “histed.”</p> + +<p>“See if we can turn the old engine over,” explained +Mr. Quince.</p> + +<p>Ike having agreed to the suggestion, he and the riverman +clambered down the bank and across a plank +to the deck of the <i>Nancy Jane</i>. A period of silence ensued, +broken by violent language when Mr. Quince +put his confidence in and his weight against a rotten +lever. There followed the sound of strong men grunting +and breathing heavily. A sudden scramble took +place and with a great splash the wheel of the <i>Nancy +Jane</i> clove the amber surface of Hog Creek.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince and Ike returned, perspiring freely.</p> + +<p>“She turned,” declared Mr. Quince with pride. +“She hain’t rusted up much in nigh unto two +year.”</p> + +<p>“Is it settled? We can rent the boat?” demanded +Virginia, all business.</p> + +<p>“I hain’t so sure,” replied the mariner doubtfully. +“This yere river bottom changes every day. I hain’t +took the <i>Nancy Jane</i> to Elgin’s Grove in two year. I +dunno as I knows where the old channel has gone. I +guess I plum forgot.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t we get some one who knows the river?” +Virginia failed to reckon with the pride of seafaring +men.</p> + +<p>“There hain’t no man knows the Lame Moose like +I knows her,” protested Mr. Quince greatly offended. +“I allers was the pilot of the <i>Nancy Jane</i> and I still +aims so to be.”</p> + +<p>Virginia smiled sweetly at the hurt riverman. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span> +“Please take us up in your boat. It will be so much +fun.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince surrendered. “I’ll take the old boat +to the grove if I have to wait for the spring freshets +to do it.”</p> + +<p>“It won’t be dangerous, will it?” cried Virginia, +disturbed by the vigor of the mariner’s remarks. “The +boat won’t sink, will it?”</p> + +<p>“That wouldn’t make no odds, nohow,” Mr. Quince +reassured her. “That bottom of the Lame Moose is +so near the top you wouldn’t know no difference.”</p> + +<p>It was finally agreed that the <i>Nancy Jane</i> should +await the arrival of its passengers at a convenient place +below the highway bridge at the hour of ten on the +next morning. But, before they left, Mr. Quince, +after inspecting the cars upon nearby switch tracks, +announced, “I don’t seem to have no coal a layin’ +around handy, so I better have five bucks on account in +case I have to buy some.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span><a id='link_14'></a>CHAPTER XIV<br /><span class='h2fs'>AN OUTING AND AN ACCIDENT</span></h2> + +<p>The heat wave had not broken in the morning. At +eight o’clock South Ridgefield sweltered beneath a +rising temperature with no promise of relief.</p> + +<p>“The poor babies!” thought Virginia. “It is hotter +than ever; but the picnic will help them.” She remembered +how warm it had been at the hospital on +the previous day and fell to thinking of Joe Curtis, +and her eyes grew soft and dreamy as she wished +that he was going on the river trip.</p> + +<p>The high temperature had caused Obadiah to spend +a restless night and he was peevish and irritable when +Virginia told him of the plans for the day. “You +should not have mixed up in such matters without consulting +me,” he snapped. “It is indiscreet and may +lead to your embarrassment. That hole up the river +used to have a most unsavory reputation.” He +paused as if seeking for other objections, and then +went on. “You might get a sun stroke.”</p> + +<p>In a moment she had her arms about his neck and +kissed him. “There it is, Daddy. Thinking of me +as usual.”</p> + +<p>“How can I help–,” he grumbled.</p> + +<p>She gave a joyous laugh and interrupted him. “I +knew that you would want to help, too, Daddy. You +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span> +may–allow Mr. Jones and Mr. Kelly to come to the +picnic. It will be an outing which they will enjoy.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah drew away from her caresses. “Don’t +interfere with my office,” he snarled. “I was greatly +embarrassed when I returned on the afternoon of the +concert and found no one there. I spoke to them both +about it.”</p> + +<p>Virginia flushed with feeling. “Did they tell you +that I asked them to come?” she demanded, and when +his face admitted it, she continued, “Regardless of +the permission you gave me in this very room to ask +any one I wished to the concert, you criticised me, +Daddy, to your employees. If you objected to my actions, +why didn’t you come to me?”</p> + +<p>The unwonted stand of his daughter made Obadiah +ill at ease. He flushed angrily and then regained control +of himself. “There, there, don’t get excited. I +didn’t say much–a mere nothing.” He drew her towards +him but she held her head stiffly, looking straight +ahead. He kissed her cheek and whispered, “Don’t +be cross, dear. Of course Kelly and Jones may go to +your picnic, if you want them.”</p> + +<p>She turned to him. The look of injury was gone. +“I was cross, Daddy. I did wrong, and I beg your +pardon.” She raised her lips for him to kiss and gave +a little laugh in which there were memories of sadness.</p> + +<p>That morning there was unusual activity on the +South Ridgefield river front. The peace of Hog +Creek was disturbed by the clang of shovels, the ring +of slice bars, and the hissing of steam. Billowy clouds +of smoke curling from the funnel of the <i>Nancy Jane</i> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span> +mixed with the river mist and gave variety to the +smells emanating from the slaughter houses on the +further shore.</p> + +<p>As the sun dissipated the fog, the <i>Nancy Jane</i> left +her anchorage, and, with much puffing and squeaking, +breasted the sluggish current of the Lame Moose River. +To the youth of the town, the reappearance of the +craft was a matter of supreme interest, and, grouped +along the bank, they gave voice to their pleasure in +cheers. So, it is painted, the rural New Yorkers +greeted the maiden voyage of the <i>Clermont</i>.</p> + +<p>The <i>Nancy Jane</i> hove to and made fast at her appointed +tryst with the babies. Thereafter, Mr. Quince, +bearing the pole with the iron hook as arms, acted as +a landing party, and dispersed groups of youth who +displayed a disposition to visit the ship without invitation.</p> + +<p>Dr. Jackson came aboard at an early hour, and +caused a truck load of cots to be arranged in two long +rows down the center of the deck. Upon these he +prepared comfortable beds of blankets.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince viewed these activities in the light of +his personal experiences. “I have seen ’em dance +and sing and fight on the <i>Nancy Jane</i> but I hain’t +never seen nobody sleep much, leastwise, if they was +sober.” Suspicion entered his mind regarding the +intentions of the physician. “You hain’t a thinkin’ +of pullin’ off no booze party in these prohibition times, +air yer?” he demanded. “I don’t want no law on +me. I’m a respectable man and I runs a respectable +boat.”</p> + +<p>The distrust cast upon his efforts to relieve +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span> +suffering disgusted the doctor. “You attend to your business +and I’ll attend to mine. You can kick when I +start something wrong,” he protested.</p> + +<p>“All right, old hoss, I have warned yer. There’s +a cop on the bridge a watching yer, now.” Mr. Quince +pointed to where a policeman leaned lazily over the +bridge rail and inspected the <i>Nancy Jane</i> with the mild +curiosity aroused by its re-advent upon the river.</p> + +<p>The absurd suggestion of the riverman irritated the +doctor to redoubled energy. Jumping on the bank, +he seized a carboy of lime water which he wrapped in +a blanket and brought aboard, endeavoring to protect +it from the sun’s rays by concealing it beneath a +cot.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince’s worst suspicions were confirmed. He +called to his follower. “Sim, come here!”</p> + +<p>The lad approached. He was coolly attired in a +worn shirt, overalls and a broken straw hat.</p> + +<p>“Sim, be my witness.” The manner of Mr. Quince +was dignified, as befitted one taking part in a legal +ceremonial. He turned towards the busy medical man, +a law-abiding citizen virtuously facing one of criminal +desires. “I hereby warns yer agin’ putting any licker +on this yere boat,” he cried in a stern voice.</p> + +<p>“Oh, shut up,” shouted the aggravated Doctor. +“Don’t be a fool.”</p> + +<p>“You heard him and you heard me, Sim. Now +I got the goods on that feller if we git pinched,” and, +with an effort to engrave the matter upon the mind of +his follower, the riverman concluded in the accepted +tone of Hamlet’s ghost, “Remember.”</p> + +<p>“Ayah,” responded the indifferent Sim.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span>The arrival of members of the picnic party prevented +further discussion of this matter.</p> + +<p>Down the steps from the bridge they came, a sisterhood +of the tired, the worried, the anxious. The cruel +strokes of labor and poverty were relentlessly erasing +the softness of youth. The bearing of children and +unceasing toil had destroyed their figures, and already +the weariness of age was creeping into their movements.</p> + +<p>Yet this was no gathering of the sorrowing. Upon +each breast rested, in gentle embrace, the fulfillment of +womanhood. Their pledge to the perpetuation of their +kind, their duty to the responsibilities and opportunities +of dawning centuries. The pride of motherhood +was upon worn faces as coverings were adjusted about +soft cheeks and tiny eyes twinkled and fat hands made +spasmodic efforts to grasp something where nothing +was. Coarse and strident voices dropped to a musical +tenderness as they harked to the mysterious language +of baby land.</p> + +<p>Even as the first mothers arrived, came Virginia +followed by Serena and Ike, carrying food. Mr. +Vivian appeared, bringing monstrous ice cream freezers. +Mrs. Henderson headed a small procession consisting +of a man bringing oceans of milk and another +with perfect bergs of ice.</p> + +<p>The mothers charged upon Dr. Jackson, the familiar +friend of their households, in noisy confusion. In +sharp and emphatic tones, he brought order out of this +feminine chaos in a manner pleasing even to that +marine disciplinarian, Mr. Quince, who had watched +the arrival of his passengers with great astonishment. +Two lines of kicking, struggling, emotion swept +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span> +infants were stretched upon the cots, and lifted their +voices in a chorus which sounded above the hiss of +steam from the boiler.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince was an adaptable man, and, regardless +of his amazement at the character of his cargo, he +rose to the occasion. Boarding his ship, he inspected +the rows of infants. “Wisht I’d a knowed these yere +kids,” he worried. “I mought a picked up some old +trunk checks at the railroad station.”</p> + +<p>“What for, Mr. Quince?” asked Virginia.</p> + +<p>“Some of these yere kids a lyin’ around careless +like is agoin’ to git mixed up and start the allfiredest +fight amongst these women folks. Nothin’ makes a +woman madder and want to fight quicker than to lose +a kid.” Mr. Quince spoke in the tone of one accustomed +to hailing the main top in the midst of storm, +and his voice carried authoritative anxiety to the ears +of every mother.</p> + +<p>A scene of confusion ensued. The dire prophecy of +the riverman caused each mother to seize her offspring +and press it to her breast. The infants, having expressed +acceptance of their new surroundings by falling +asleep, were disturbed and made known their objections +in loud wailings.</p> + +<p>“Who stirred up those babies?” Dr. Jackson demanded, +angrily.</p> + +<p>“He did,” chorused the mothers, indicating the +worthy seafaring man. “He said that they would +get mixed up.” The hostile eyes of the matrons +watched Mr. Quince as if suspicious that he might attempt +personally to bring about the fulfillment of his +prediction.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span>“Nonsense,” shouted Dr. Jackson. “You mothers +ought to know your own babies by now, and, if you +don’t, you certainly know the clothes they have on.”</p> + +<p>This assurance had a calming influence and quiet +was slowly restored. For a time Dr. Jackson appeared +about to reprimand the riverman, but hesitated, probably +fearful of again being placed on record.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince perceived the evidences of his personal +unpopularity with great coolness. Unabashed, he remarked, +“You’re gettin’ all het up a layin’ around here +with your kids. There’s nothing to it but a heap of +sweating. Let’s go.”</p> + +<p>“Wait a minute, please,” begged Virginia. “I +think that some one else is coming. Won’t you blow +your whistle, Mr. Quince?”</p> + +<p>At this request, real embarrassment descended upon +the skipper. After scratching his head reflectively, +he went aft to the engine room, or, more accurately, +climbed across to the rear barge and entered into conference +with Sim. After a period of argument and +persuasion, that young man took a slice bar and +pounded at the lever of the whistle. A great cloud of +steam hissed forth, from the midst of which came a +thin wailing note very like in volume those advertising +the presence of hot roasted peanuts.</p> + +<p>Above the noise came a cry of “Whoa, hold on.” +Kelly, followed by Mr. Jones, gallantly guarding Miss +Knight, lest she inadvertently plunge headlong into the +waves below, descended from the bridge. The stenographer +was fittingly garbed for the occasion in flannel +trousers, silk shirt, serge coat and yachting cap.</p> + +<p>“We can go now, Mr. Quince,” cried Virginia, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span> +making herself heard with difficulty above the roar of escaping +steam.</p> + +<p>“We hain’t a goin’ yet awhile,” bellowed the commander +of the <i>Nancy Jane</i>. “The durned old whistle +is stuck and a lettin’ all the steam out of the old biler.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Jackson and Kelly repaired to the engine room +to inspect conditions. In a moment the medical man +returned, and, procuring his surgical case, hurried back +towards the hissing boiler.</p> + +<p>“It’s de fust time ah evah seed er Doctor called fo’ +er enjine,” Ike told Serena. “Maybe it got de pip.”</p> + +<p>“It soun’ mo’e lak de croup,” chuckled Serena.</p> + +<p>With characteristic energy, the doctor applied a bandage +to the whistle which so confined the steam that +Sim was able, with sundry taps of a wrench, to abate +“the hemorrhage of vapor,” as the medical man termed +it.</p> + +<p>There followed a pleasant period for friendly conversation, +disturbed only by the cries of infants, the +scrape of the shovel, and the clang of the furnace door.</p> + +<p>During this time, the skipper sat on a box and pensively +viewed the slow movement of the needle of the +steam gauge. Finally he became energetic. Climbing +upon the bank, he cast off the forward hawser of +the <i>Nancy Jane</i>. Noting the eyes of the passengers +to be upon him, he assumed a care free air tinged with +a certain dignity, as if the handling of the <i>Nancy Jane</i>, +a perplexing problem to others, was a trifling matter +to him. Likewise, he entered into explanations, ostensibly +for Sim’s benefit. “I’ve cast off the bow line. +I’m agoin’ to let the current swing er out, then we’ll +start ahead and you cast off that stern line.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span>Before the eyes of the marveling mothers, Mr. +Quince assumed a position at the extreme front of the +boat, on a small deck beyond the railing. He held the +pole across his body, as the balancing stick of a tightrope +walker, and watched the current swing the <i>Nancy +Jane</i> away from the bank.</p> + +<p>Sim waited, motionless as a statue, with a grimy +paw on the throttle.</p> + +<p>“Let ’er go,” sang Mr. Quince, as from the bridge +of the <i>Leviathan</i>, his powerful voice echoing against +the bluffs far up the river.</p> + +<p>With much groaning and creaking the engine took +up the play of its gearing, and choked down with a +grunt as the paddles of the water wheel stuck in the +clay bank.</p> + +<p>Seizing their babies, the mothers arose and screamed. +The infants also gave tongue.</p> + +<p>As one man, Dr. Jackson and Kelly sprang to their +feet. “Sit down,” they shouted.</p> + +<p>“Is de biler gwine blow up?” Serena asked Ike, +nervously.</p> + +<p>“Dat ole enjine jes balky. Dat’s all,” he reassured +her.</p> + +<p>In this moment of marine disaster, Mr. Quince displayed +great coolness and judgment. “Look out,” he +shouted to Sim, and leaped ashore with great agility. +From this position of vantage he commanded, “Stop +’er!” He then displayed wonderful presence of mind +by casting off the stern line. Returning on board, he +seized his pole and pushed the <i>Nancy Jane</i> out into +the river.</p> + +<p>Once more, upon signal, the engine strained and a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span> +large chunk of South Ridgefield soil splashed into the +river. The relieved paddle wheel caught the water +and the <i>Nancy Jane</i> headed up the Lame Moose for +Elgin’s Grove. Mr. Quince plied his pole diligently, +and, exerting his good muscles, shoved his craft into +the channel it should follow.</p> + +<p>The journey to the Grove was accomplished without +notable incident. The sun shone upon the shallow +water at such an angle that Mr. Quince was able to +view the bottom of the river through the transparent +liquid as a pathway stretching before him.</p> + +<p>During the voyage the heat was not oppressive, and +the infants slept while their mothers enjoyed a restful +holiday. This peace was threatened only when an +impromptu orchestra consisting of Sim on the harmonica +and Ike on a pair of improvised bones showed +a disposition to render some of the frivolous airs of +the moment for the edification of the ladies.</p> + +<p>Elgin’s Grove lay cool and inviting as the <i>Nancy +Jane</i> stood in towards the shore. The shallowness of +the water made it necessary to reach the bank by a +narrow gang plank, thoughtfully provided by the steam +boat commander. As soon as this was in position, +Virginia led the party ashore where the farmer cordially +welcomed them with the original remark, “Ain’t +you folks afraid you’re lost?” The supplies were +landed amidst much boisterous excitement by Kelly, +assisted by Mr. Quince, Sim and Ike.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones escorted Miss Knight ashore, bearing her +parasol. She joined Dr. Jackson and Virginia, who +were making plans for the general welfare.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the mill owner’s daughter turned to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span> +stenographer and, smiling sweetly, said, “Mr. Jones, +may I depend upon you to see that the cots are brought +up from the boat?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones bowed with great dignity. “You will +always find me at your service, Miss Dale,” he responded, +in dulcet tones. The day was rosy to him. +The system of exercise, to which Kelly had unfeelingly +condemned him, was having its effect. He felt +better than he had for years. Likewise it appeared +that his dreams were coming true. That very morning +Obadiah had come to him and, in quite the approved +manner of addressing private secretaries, saving a certain +undue sharpness of tone, had said, “Jones, I wish +you and Kelly to accompany my daughter on a picnic +which she is giving today. The boat leaves the bridge +at ten o’clock, I believe.” Now, too, had his employer’s +daughter, aware of correct usages when private +secretaries were about, singled him by name to assist +her. It was of course to be regretted that this picnic +was charitable in its nature and attended only by vulgar +persons, but from the intimacy of such an occasion, +it was but a step to the dances and dinners of his heart’s +desire.</p> + +<p>Filled with joy, Mr. Jones cast aside his coat and +ran across the greensward with the grace of a fawn. +He shouted for Kelly and Ike, and in a moment had +gathered about him the strong men of the party. He +issued his instructions in the terse, certain words of a +leader of men. Under his cheery encouragement, cots, +with a man at each end, moved rapidly from the boat +to their appointed place beneath the trees.</p> + +<p>Perceiving the flushed face and the speed of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span> +stenographer’s movements, Virginia bestowed upon +him a glorious smile of approval and called, “Oh, Mr. +Jones, what a help you are to me!”</p> + +<p>The private secretary became proud nigh unto the +bursting point. He redoubled his efforts, and in a +moment all but the last cot was ashore. Kelly uplifted +the far end and bawled for aid.</p> + +<p>Instantly, Mr. Jones was at hand to seize upon the +shore end of the cot. A leg caught upon a stanchion. +The stenographer jerked at it. “Get a move on you!” +he commanded Kelly.</p> + +<p>“Wait, you cheese! What’s your hurry?” retorted +the bookkeeper, as he attempted to withdraw +the cot from the stanchion to release the leg.</p> + +<p>“Come on!” urged the strenuous Mr. Jones, turning +and facing Kelly. The leg was freed. “Hustle, +you big lobster! Can’t you lift your clumsy feet?” +persisted the driver of men.</p> + +<p>Before this admonishment Kelly advanced with alacrity.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones moved backwards, blindly, but with haste.</p> + +<p>“Look out!” sounded Kelly’s warning; but alas, +too late.</p> + +<p>In his hurry Mr. Jones missed the gang plank and +plunged backwards from the scow into three feet of +mud and water. The screams of frightened women +rent the air. A cry for the police arose from Mr. +Vivian, while from the lips of that seasoned sailor, Sim, +rang that terrifying cry, “Man overbo-o-o-ard.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince sprang into action at the alarm as a fireman +at the stroke of the gong. With a mighty leap +he landed on the bow of the <i>Nancy Jane</i>. Seizing his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span> +pole, he ran along the edge of the barge with the agility +of a cat towards the circling waves which alone marked +where the private secretary had disappeared. Mr. +Quince reached forth tentatively with his pole, as Mr. +Jones, having scrambled to his knees beneath the flood, +emerged coughing and scrambling from the water.</p> + +<p>The head of Mr. Jones came up, the pole of Mr. +Quince went down. They met.</p> + +<p>“<i>Wough!</i>” The stenographer lifted his voice in +anguish and seated himself upon the river bottom, his +head protruding above the surface of the water.</p> + +<p>Undiscouraged, Mr. Quince, with practiced hand, +continued to seek for Mr. Jones with the iron hook.</p> + +<p>“Get off of me with that thing. It hurts,” protested +the moist private secretary.</p> + +<p>Regardless of these objections from his victim, Mr. +Quince would have persisted in his efforts with a diligence +certain of reward had not Kelly reached down +from the bank, and, seizing the dripping and miserable +stenographer by the hand, pulled him ashore.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince desisted from his fishing operations only +when his prey was beyond his reach. Turning to Ike +who had regarded his life saving with profound approval, +he boasted, “I’d a got him by the britches sure, +if he hadn’t a bin a settin’ down.” He rested upon +his pole and his eagle eye swept the river, flashing brilliant +in the sunshine. Into his face, but recently +lighted with enthusiasm, came a look of dissatisfaction, +of disappointment, as he confided his woe to the chauffeur. +“There hain’t nobody ever gits drownded in +the old Lame Moose,” he complained. “Hain’t +’nough water to drownd a weasel.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span>To Ike came comprehension of the troubled soul of +the river-man, and he endeavored to comfort him. +“Dey am’ ’nough water in dis yere river to slac’ de +thirst o’ er g’asshopper,” he agreed.</p> + +<p>Loud conversation took place among the mothers as +Dr. Jackson announced his purpose of serving sustenance +to those infants whose habit it was to resort +to artificial sources for nourishment. Much attention +was given to the sterilization of bottles, the +measuring of milk, and the addition of lime water +thereto. The medical man took the opportunity to +deliver a lecture upon the feeding of infants with some +reference to their early care and discipline, and Virginia +took base advantage of her position as picnic +manager to hold the babies while they enjoyed bottled +refreshments. She would have also kissed each recipient +of her favor had she not been sternly repressed +by Dr. Jackson, much to the amusement of Mrs. Henderson.</p> + +<p>“Let the child kiss the babies if she wants to, Doctor,” +urged the widow.</p> + +<p>“No,” he refused with firmness. “Kissing is dangerous. +Now that we have prohibition, if we could +get rid of smoking and kissing, things would be about +right.”</p> + +<p>“Are you engaged, Doctor?”</p> + +<p>“No, certainly not. What made you ask me that, +Mrs. Henderson?”</p> + +<p>“I wonder why I did, myself, Doctor. It was a +foolish question.”</p> + +<p>At the close of the infantile banquet, the mothers +returned their offspring to the line of cots, where, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span> +protected by mosquito netting, they straightway relapsed +into slumber.</p> + +<p>Kelly, who had returned alone from the depths of +the woods into which he had departed with the dripping +Mr. Jones, was greatly interested, and addressed Miss +Knight. “Watch those kids pound their ears! They +sure eat sleep as soon as they hit the hay.”</p> + +<p>The nurse looked at the bookkeeper inquiringly. +“What are you? Wop, Guiney, Polock or Sheeny?”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“You must hate the English language. I thought +that you must be foreign.”</p> + +<p>His eyes were dancing when he looked at her and +said, “My name is Kelly, Miss Knight.”</p> + +<p>“That explains it,” she laughed.</p> + +<p>The bachelor farmer who owned the grove watched +the pleasant scene from a seat upon the well curb. +Resting upon the damp planking, he philosophically +sucked upon a black pipe, and gave ear to the prevalent +wisdom on baby feeding. He modified this, no doubt, +in his own mind, in the light of his own experience +as a successful stock feeder.</p> + +<p>With that social spirit always noticeable in his character, +Ike joined the agriculturist and entered into casual +conversation. “Dis is er fine grove you got yere, +Misto Elgin.”</p> + +<p>“It’s by long odds the best grove on the river.”</p> + +<p>“Yas’r.” The chat languished until reopened by +Ike on other lines. “You has er fine view, Misto Elgin, +an’ you has got fine trees an’ you has got fine aiah.”</p> + +<p>The farmer chuckled. “If you’d a bin ’round here +yesterday afternoon when I cleaned out the well I’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span> +bet the air would have made you sick at your stomach, +boy.”</p> + +<p>“How cum?” Ike demanded sharply, his eyes rolling +white with anxiety.</p> + +<p>“The old hole was full of dead reptiles and varmints. +I got a skunk, a rabbit, two frogs and three snakes +out and a couple of things so far gone I couldn’t tell ’em. +Gorry but they stunk.”</p> + +<p>“You ’spec’ dey mek dat water bad?” pleaded Ike, +in a voice pathetic in its intenseness.</p> + +<p>“Water with things like that in it is deadly pizen, +I cal’late,” the farmer told him, with a shudder at his +own repulsive memories.</p> + +<p>Ike leaped to his feet hurriedly. Fear lifted him +“’Scuse me, Sar,” he murmured, as if he had been suddenly +taken ill. A moment later, discovering the medical +man resting in the shade of a great tree, the negro +approached him with an air of indifference tempered +with respect. For all that he knew this might be a +dreaded “night doctor”–one of those fearful beings +who steal about in the late hours of the night despoiling +sepulchers and seizing late strollers for the benefit +of science. It is obviously unwise to irritate such +characters, lest evil befall one.</p> + +<p>“Dis is er fine day, Doc,” Ike suggested.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Doc, do pizen hit er man suddin?”</p> + +<p>The physician glanced lazily at the negro. The spirit +of mischief seized him. “Look here, boy,” he cried, +in a threatening manner, “I warn you as a friend as +well as a medical man to keep away from poison. You +are so tough, so ornery, so low down good for nothing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span> +and lazy, that poison would have to work slow under +your hide and you would die a lingering and painful +death.”</p> + +<p>Without another word Ike departed. The verdict +had been handed down and sentence passed. Before +him lay a dreadful death. He sought solitude in which +to pass his few remaining hours and to prepare for +his fearful end. Stumbling along, he came upon the +ice cream freezers and the lunch baskets. Serena and +Mr. Vivian sat among them, engaged in debate regarding +the preparation of certain types of cake in view +of the high cost of eggs.</p> + +<p>To Ike’s mind, this was the kitchen. His home, his +place of retirement, should logically be back of this. +Within him burned increasing fear. Upon self-examination, +he discovered that peculiar symptoms beset +every part of his body. Unquestionably the fatal +hour approached. The time of paroxysms and fits +was at hand. Trembling and almost blind from apprehension, +the chauffeur circled the refreshments and +the culinary argument. He came upon a shady nook. +The tall brush had been pulled aside and fashioned +into a rude canopy which, with the tree branches overhead, +afforded a double protection from the sun. +Within it, his confused eyes made out that which appeared +a couch decked forth with old blankets and +gunny sacks. Ike sank upon this with a moan of anguish +and, with his kinky head buried in the crook of +his elbow, awaited the final agony which would herald +the passing of his soul.</p> + +<p>With that love for solitude and self-communion, so +common to unusual minds, Mr. Quince had not mingled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span> +with the ladies. While technically a member of the +picnic party, he was not one with it in spirit, in taste or +in aspiration. Those who go down to the sea in ships +give but little heed to infant culture. Therefore, he +strolled about the circumference of the festivities instead +of in their midst and thus came upon the recumbent +Ike.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter now?” he demanded in the +rough manner of a man hardened by contact with nature +in her wildest moods.</p> + +<p>Ike emitted a dismal groan.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince, ever one of action, promptly applied that +treatment deemed peculiarly efficacious in the treatment +of those intoxicated. He seized the negro by his +shoulders and shook him violently. “Come up!” he +roared. “Git a move on yer, yer lazy bum.”</p> + +<p>“Lemme go!” protested Ike, astounded at the administration +of such radical restorative measures to +one about to shuffle off. “Ah’m er dead man. Ah’m +er gwine to pass away.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince registered intense interest. “Yer don’t +say?” He scratched his head reflectively and brought +the cold light of reason to bear upon the problem. +“Whatcher talkin’ about,” he went on in tones of regret. +“Yer hain’t dead”; and concluded more hopefully, +“Leastways not yit.”</p> + +<p>“He’p,” moaned Ike, apparently in intense agony.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince pensively spat a stream of tobacco juice +across the bier of the dying one. “Maybe that doctor +mought give yer some dope,” he suggested, with +great deliberation.</p> + +<p>Ike’s answer was a sepulchral groan.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span>Dr. Jackson, with the utmost possible composure +was receiving from a group of mothers that feminine +adulation usually accorded the members of his profession.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince slowly approached them. “That black +boy is er dying over there,” he hailed, as an officer ex-changing +casual greetings from his bridge with a passing +ship.</p> + +<p>The doctor leaped to his feet with a startled look. +So did the mothers as well as every one else who was +sitting down. They moved in a body to the side of +the expiring chauffeur. About his couch they grouped, +as it is painted that courts gather by the bedside of +expiring monarchs to receive the royal farewell.</p> + +<p>Before the assembled multitude, Ike moaned and +groaned in anguish of mind and body.</p> + +<p>Dr. Jackson examined him. “What’s the matter?” +he asked.</p> + +<p>“Ah done drink poison,” Ike whined. “De col’ +chills is er runnin’ down ma back an’ ma laigs. Ah’s +gwine ter die.”</p> + +<p>Serena drew near. Her extensive acquaintance with +the young man made her skeptical in all things concerning +him. She examined his surroundings with +interest and cried, “Ef dat fool ain’ got no bettah +sense an’ to lay hisse’f out on ma ice why ain’ he got +col’ chills?”</p> + +<p>Lifting a sack, Dr. Jackson exposed the smooth surface +of a block of ice.</p> + +<p>Ike sprang from his chilly couch.</p> + +<p>Serena made indignant outcry. “Howcum yo’all +mek er coolin’ boa’d out er ma ice when ah needs it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span> +fo’ lemonade? Ah fin’ out mighty quick ef you is er +dyin’ when ah surves de fried chicken.”</p> + +<p>Disgust developed among the mothers; but Ike took +no note of popular feeling. His was the joy of a reprieved +man as his pains flew away before the reassuring +laughter of the medical man.</p> + +<p>“Let’s have something to eat,” suggested the +chuckling practitioner, when he had completed this cure +by faith.</p> + +<p>As if by magic, the luncheon was spread, and how +those blissfully contented mothers did eat and make the +woods ring with the merriment of their holiday. The +fun was given greater impetus by the reappearance of +Mr. Jones who, pending the drying of his own more +luxurious apparel, was clothed in garments of rural +simplicity loaned by the farmer.</p> + +<p>Embarrassment spoke from every feature of the +stenographer as, in the midst of laughter, he approached +the festive spread.</p> + +<p>Virginia perceived his sad case and beckoned him +to her side. “Here is Mr. Jones,” she announced. +“He suffered for the cause and shall be our guest of +honor.” With her own hands she arranged a place for +him and saw that he had food enough for two men. +This she made sweeter with smiles of approval and +appreciation.</p> + +<p>The private secretary said but little. Yet the day +became beautiful, and once again joy rested in his +heart.</p> + +<p>In the coolness of Elgin’s grove, the afternoon of +the hottest day South Ridgefield ever experienced +passed lazily. The mothers chatted and laughed and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span> +some took naps; but best of all the babies ate and slept +in comfortable rotation as the hot hours passed.</p> + +<p>Upon repeated urgings by Mr. Quince the tired +party re-embarked upon the <i>Nancy Jane</i> after supper. +The riverman explained gloomily, “I hain’t got no use +for this old river after dark. The government hain’t +hangin’ no lanterns on the snags in the Lame Moose, +and I hain’t got nothin’ to steer by but the lightnin’ +bugs.”</p> + +<p>Regardless of the skipper’s attitude, the departure +was delayed because a postprandial nap of Sim’s had +allowed the steam to get low while the commanding +officer persuaded the passengers to return aboard.</p> + +<p>Becoming aware of this condition, rough language +was used abaft the beam, as the Captain addressed the +crew. Mutiny was evidently rampant, as the crew +was heard to invite the Captain to return home on foot +if dissatisfied with its efforts. Then came arbitration, +and, after a time, above the noise of argument, the +hissing of steam sounded in increasing volume.</p> + +<p>The shadows of night lay upon the waters as the +<i>Nancy Jane</i> left Elgin’s Grove. Since it was too dark +for the navigator to procure his accustomed view of +the river bottom, he peered into the gloom with anxious +eyes. Upon the banks the tops of the trees showed +clear against the evening sky; but the shadowy mass +below was of a nature to baffle the judgment of all but +the most experienced pilots.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince was not baffled. He laid the <i>Nancy Jane</i> +upon a course down the middle of the stream, and, +laying aside the tiller, he retired to the engine room +where, in a voice which reached every ear upon the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span> +lightless deck, he conversed with the engineer regarding +the more intimate details of navigation. “How +much steam have you got on the old tea pot?” he +asked, and when Sim told him, complained, “That +hain’t enough to make this yere turtle crawl home.”</p> + +<p>“It’s all this leaky kettle kin hold,” objected the engineer.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince made technical explanations. “Steam +is a blowin’ out of the safety valve. That’s where yer +air losin’ power. I cal’late the old flat iron is er slippin’. +I’ll fix ’er.”</p> + +<p>The shuffling of feet sounded.</p> + +<p>“How kin you tell where you are a-puttin’ that flat +iron?” protested Sim. “You’re a goin’ to bust the +darned oil biler a foolin’ with that valve in the dark. +You can’t see what you’re doin’ no more than a mole.”</p> + +<p>“I hain’t slipped ’er out er notch. She’s where she +orter be. This biler hain’t er goin’ to blow up. +What’s it to yer any way; it hain’t your biler.”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t I got to stand by the blame thing?”</p> + +<p>“What’s eatin’ on yer?” asked Mr. Quince, a trifle +obscurely. “Yer know dern well you’re too blame +lazy to shovel enough coal under the old wash biler +to git her het up none before we git home.”</p> + +<p>This struck Sim as reasonable. He changed the +subject and inquired, “Where are we?”</p> + +<p>A voice remarkably like that of Mr. Quince, although +it could not have been that experienced river man, responded, +“I dunno.”</p> + +<p>Leaves rustled along the roof, and the skipper departed +hurriedly for his post or, more accurately, his +pole. For a time he wielded it energetically. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span> +current was assisting the engine and so they moved +fairly rapidly. The glow of South Ridgefield showed +above the trees, and, with ever greater frequency, the +lights of scattered houses gleamed upon either bank. +They passed the suburbs. Upon either shore lay dark +masses of manufacturing plants lighted by isolated electric +lights. They were abreast of Obadiah Dale’s mill +now, while a short block away stretched the ghostly +fabric of the highway bridge, dimly traced by its own +arch of lights. Beneath it was their landing place; so +the mothers began to prepare to land and to thank Virginia +for their pleasant day.</p> + +<p>Mr. Quince, of course, was at his post. Resting +himself upon his pole, he was enjoying that satisfaction +over duty well performed which abides in the +breasts of ships’ captains and locomotive engineers +when they bring their passengers to a safe journey’s +end.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the bow of the <i>Nancy Jane</i> rose slowly +and imperceptibly. There was a sizzling, grinding +sound, and the boat stopped abruptly but softly as +against a cushion, aground on a sand bar. As the +craft struck there was a forward movement upon her +deck, and a shifting of passengers and freight. A +resounding splash sounded in front of the wrecked +vessel. Mr. Quince, resting meditatively upon the +pole, had been, sad to relate, hove over the bow of his +own ship. At the moment of his departure he gave a +diabolical yell.</p> + +<p>A scene of terror ensued. Mothers sending forth +wild screams hugged their babes to their bosoms as +they faced the unknown perils of the night. They +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span> +were not made calmer by a rhythmic heaving of the +deck, accompanied by a mighty boiling and beating of +the water astern, as the paddle wheel exerted itself +against the sand bar. Perhaps Sim wished to emulate +“Jim Bludso” of heroic fame, and, in the absence of +his pilot, keep the engine going “to hold her nozzle +agin the bank.”</p> + +<p>With soothing and calming words, Kelly and Dr. +Jackson finally brought a partial calm when panic +seemed assured.</p> + +<p>At the first alarm, Ike had leaped up from a box +upon which he had been resting from the labors of +the day. With rare presence of mind, Mr. Jones +seized it for personal use as a life preserver in case of +need. Reassured by the remoteness of danger, Ike +endeavored to sit where no seat was, and, with a +crash, measured his length upon the deck. This episode +did not tend to allay the nervousness of female +minds.</p> + +<p>From the shadows of the night, a dripping figure +scrambled over the bow of the ship. It was Mr. Quince +returning from whence he had been hove. He reassumed +command. “Stop the engine!” he squeaked, +in a voice made husky by too much moisture. “Want +to burn all the coal up for nothin’?” Obediently the +engine slowed and stopped. Again the voice of the +skipper sang out, “Better fix that old safety valve. +I mought a shoved ’er too far in the dark.” Suddenly +a tremendous hissing of steam arose and then +died softly away. Mr. Quince hurried to the engine +room and addressed Sim at close quarters. “Yer +dern fool, what made yer let all the steam outer the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span> +biler. We hain’t got no power now. How’re we +goin’ to git ’er off?”</p> + +<p>“You ain’t goin’ to git ’er off. She’s stuck for +good,” prophesied Sim.</p> + +<p>It is not easy to discourage great spirits. “Ef I +can’t git ’er off now, I kin wait for high water. The +old tub hain’t hurt none,” Mr. Quince made answer.</p> + +<p>Basing the duration of their experience as castaways +upon these remarks, the mothers gave away to tears. +Babies awakened and wept also. A chorus of woe +swept shoreward.</p> + +<p>“Who knows how to swim?” Dr. Jackson asked +in a sharp voice.</p> + +<p>The ladies construed this remark as implying an +early necessity for this accomplishment. The resulting +increase in grief was with difficulty subdued.</p> + +<p>From the information educed, it was clear that Sim +was among the most experienced swimmer among +those present. Being untrammeled by the mandates +of fearful females, he had since his early youth spent +much of the summer season in the water.</p> + +<p>“Sim, you swim ashore and get help,” ordered the +doctor.</p> + +<p>A difficulty arose, “I ain’t a goin’ to swim with my +clothes on,” objected Sim. “Maybe I only have to +wade, but I might get into a hole and have to swim. +Clothes drag a feller down.”</p> + +<p>“Very sensible,” agreed the physician. “Take +them off.”</p> + +<p>“I ain’t no heathen. I ain’t agoin’ to take my +clothes off before all of these womenfolks.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span>“Don’t be silly,” urged the doctor. “We will turn +our heads.”</p> + +<p>“Take ’em off behind the biler,” suggested Mr. +Quince.</p> + +<p>“Yes, fry myself on the durned old thing.” Additional +complications struck the youth. “What am +I goin’ to wear when I git ashore. The cops will git +me sure, if I run around town naked.”</p> + +<p>At last, a compromise was reached. Sim, simply +attired in trousers, disappeared towards the shore. +Then followed a long period of silence in which the +babies slept in comfort and only the sobbing mothers +were unhappy.</p> + +<p>Voices sounded on the shore. Sim had carried the +news of shipwreck to waiting husbands and succor +drew near. They built a fire and shouted words of +encouragement. A search was made for boats; but +they were few in South Ridgefield and well protected +from marauders. Even the only seaworthy skiff of +Mr. Quince’s fleet was securely locked, and the key +in his pocket, as Sim reminded him from the shore.</p> + +<p>The night wore on. Great activity with little result +took place about the fire. Policemen, firemen and +newspapermen viewed the scene with interest. Such +prominent men as Obadiah Dale and Hezekiah Wilkins +exchanged ideas over the fire with factory employees +and laborers. It was Pat Murphy, a teamster, who +solved the problem of rescue. As the eastern sky was +lighted by the first streaks of the coming day, a mule +team and a wagon in a few trips landed the passengers +of the <i>Nancy Jane</i>.</p> + +<p>In accordance with the traditions of the sea, Mr. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span> +Quince stayed by his ship. The last load departed +leaving him drying himself before the furnace. The +reflection of the fire lighted up the deep lines of his +face, its pensive look and the rhythmic movement of +the powerful jaws, as the faithful mariner kept vigil +upon the waters.</p> + +<p>But, as the rays of the rising sun turned the eastern +horizon into gold, an early observer might have perceived +Mr. Quince arise, stretch himself, and solace his +palate with chewing tobacco. The same beholder might +then have witnessed the riverman step overboard and +wade slowly towards the shore, bearing his shoes, +wrapped in his trousers, before him, while the morning +breeze flapped the tails of his old flannel shirt about +his thin legs.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span><a id='link_15'></a>CHAPTER XV<br /><span class='h2fs'>A MAN IN DISGRACE</span></h2> + +<p>“Virginia, come here!” roared Obadiah on the +morning after the trip up the river.</p> + +<p>There was a rough commanding note in his voice +which made the girl spring to her feet, and, shaken +by dread of impending calamity, with throbbing heart +and startled eyes, hurry down stairs to where he +awaited her in the living room.</p> + +<p>He stood before the great mantel. The morning +paper was stretched between his hands, his nervous +fingers crushing its edges. His face was flushed with +passion and his eyes, as they met those of his daughter, +were cruel in their anger. “Look here! See +what you have done,” he cried, in a voice which shook +with the intenseness of his emotion. In his haste he +tore a corner from the paper as he thrust it towards the +trembling girl.</p> + +<p>She accepted the sheet as if she were in a dream. +Never had he spoken so to her. Never had she seen +him in such a rage. Fear of him–of the primitive +masculinity of the man–clutched at her heart. +Everything seemed unreal. It was as if she were in +the midst of a horrible nightmare from which she +might, if she would, release herself. She sank into +a chair, the paper across her knees. As her eyes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span> +dropped, the print danced queerly for a moment before +her vision cleared. There, she read in staring +headlines, “The Wreck of the <i>Nancy Jane</i>.”</p> + +<p>The comical side of the vicissitudes of the <i>Nancy +Jane</i>, with its passenger list of mothers and babies had +so impressed the reporter that he had prepared his story +in a humorous vein. Unfortunately, he had elected to +weave his story about Obadiah Dale, the manufacturer, +and his daughter, instead of about Mrs. Henderson or +any humble individual. The story was funny. The +way the scribbler linked the generosity of Obadiah towards +the babies, the navigation of the Lame Moose +by the <i>Nancy Jane</i>, and Elgin’s Grove, was a scream to +those who knew the selfishness of the mill owner, the +shallow depth and harmlessness of the Lame Moose +and the lurid history of the grove. The editor-owner +of the paper had little use for Obadiah and in running +this article–good natured and harmless on its face–he +had hit the manufacturer in a vulnerable spot. +Obadiah could not stand ridicule.</p> + +<p>While Virginia read, the wide toed shoes of her father +resounded, as he tramped excitedly up and down +the room. She finished the article and looked up at +him. Little chills of fright thrilled up and down her +spine, and yet she found no reason for it in the column +she had been reading. That struck her as rather silly.</p> + +<p>As she dropped the paper, Obadiah glowered down +at her. “Now,” he yelled, in his high voice, “I hope +that you are satisfied. You have made me the laughing +stock of this town–made a perfect ass out of +me.” He shook a long forefinger at her. “I’ve stood +enough of your foolishness and it’s got to stop.” The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span> +old man was nearly frantic with anger as he scowled +at her, a pale, crushed little thing in the big arm chair. +“I’m tired of it,” he raged. “You make me ridiculous +by your failure to appreciate that there is such a +thing as personal dignity. You’ve mixed me in the +most nonsensical affairs. Think of it! Parading +down the main street of this town behind a minstrel +band with a load of negroes!” He almost gnashed +his teeth at the thought. “You got up that fool band +concert at the Old Ladies’ Home. It was a farce with +the fire department dashing up in the middle of it. +Now,” he bellowed, “you had to go and get mixed in +this mess on the river.” Obadiah had to pause in the +catalogue of his grievances to catch his breath. His +temper was choking him. “I’ve always tried to protect +my reputation,” he went on. “I’ve minded my +business and let other people attend to theirs. But you +have to drag me into this. My name is a hiss and a +byword in this town today. I’ll never hear the last of +it. You are to blame for it all.” Self-pity brought +Obadiah to the verge of tears.</p> + +<p>But immediately a returning wave of anger engulfed +his sorrow. “You are extravagant–wickedly so. +You force me to pay out large sums of money. +You’ve made me buy ice cream for the old ladies, the +veterans, the firemen and all the mothers and babies, +too.–Pretty nearly the whole town has been entertained +at my expense,” he groaned. “Worst of all,” +he continued with renewed temper, “were your fool +admissions and asinine agreement which forced me to +endow that room at the hospital.</p> + +<p>“It’s time to call a halt,” he raved. “I’ll stand it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span> +no longer. It must stop.” He paused before the +shrinking girl and shook his fist in the air. “Hereafter +you will mind your own business and not interfere +in the troubles of others. You’ll stay at home +where you belong and quit gadding about.”</p> + +<p>Stunned by his vehemence and crushed by his words, +the forlorn little figure raised pleading eyes to him +as he strode out of the room. “Daddy,” she cried +after him, but he took no notice of it.</p> + +<p>In her own room, tears brought relief to Virginia, +and in time she was able to review her father’s behavior +with a degree of calmness. She trembled anew as she +remembered his anger. Then, with a start, she awakened +to the fact that he had forbidden her to continue +to do those things which she had done in the spirit of +her mother’s message. Her mind traveled over his +actions in the past and reconsidered remarks that he +had made. Suddenly she realized that he had never +been in sympathy with her, that he had frankly told her +so, and that she had refused to believe him. With +sickening alarm, she awakened to the conflict between +the ideals of her father and her mother. She sat upon +the bed, a dejected heap of sorrow, and gazed at the +wall with dry eyes, frightened and unseeing. What +must she do? That was the question. It smothered +her acute grief at his angry words. Worshiping the +mother whom she had never known with all the hunger +of a lonely heart, it was a solemn and tragic decision +which she forced upon herself. The gravity of it +urged her to physical action. She could not bear to +lie there, she must move about.</p> + +<p>It was a sad eyed girl who went downstairs. From +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span> +Serena she learned that her father had telephoned that +he would not be home for lunch.</p> + +<p>The old negress used all of her arts to persuade her +mistress to eat something. “Ain’ yo’all gwine pick at +dis yere salad an’ tast’tes some o’ de custard ah fix +special fo’ ma honey chil’?” she begged. To comfort +Virginia she belittled the episode of the morning. +“You’ Daddy done git mad fo’ er minute caze dat ole +boat stick in de mud. He gwine fo’git it quick. He +ain’ tek no ’count o’ de babies wot ’joy deyse’fs er +eatin’ an’ er sleepin’.”</p> + +<p>The girl ate sparingly as Serena forced food upon +her.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the old servant reached out and patted her +mistress gently upon the shoulder, her black face filled +with a great tenderness as she said, “You’ Mammy +done say, ef er pusson try to do right, dey ain’ nothin’ +else wot mek no diffe’nce. Dat’s jes wot Miss Elinor +she say.</p> + +<p>“Yas’m, she done say dat right befo’ ma eyes,” +explained Serena, and then she hastened away to answer +the door bell, leaving Virginia gazing dreamily +out of a window, wonderfully comforted.</p> + +<p>The shrill voice of a woman uplifted in excitement +sounded in the hall. “We must see some one. We +have come a long distance and Mr. Dale is not at his +office.”</p> + +<p>“Dey ain’ nobody heah fo’ yo’all to talk no business +to. You might jes as well go ’long,” Serena answered +with firmness.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Dale has a daughter,” the voice suggested.</p> + +<p>“She ain’ gwine be ’sturbed. She jes er chil’ an’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span> +ain’ know nothin’ a tall ’bout her pappy’s business. +Bettah gwan away f’om heah.”</p> + +<p>“What is it, Serena?” asked Virginia, hurrying into +the hall.</p> + +<p>“Jes some pussons dat ain’ know whar dey ’long,” +snarled the old negress, beginning to vibrate under the +stress of anger as she glared at three highly indignant +women waiting without.</p> + +<p>Virginia felt that it was necessary to interfere in the +tense situation. “I am Miss Dale. I shall be glad +to talk to you if you wish to come in,” she told the +strangers, to Serena’s disgust.</p> + +<p>The hostility of these visitors melted in a degree at +this display of hospitality; but their manner was cool +as they followed the girl into the living room.</p> + +<p>“We are a committee from the Women’s Civic Club +of Amity, a town situated ten miles below here on the +river,” explained Mrs. Duncan, a stern faced female, +after they had introduced themselves. “We ask that +you inform your father of our call.”</p> + +<p>“I shall be glad to do that,” Virginia promised. +“Am I to explain the purpose of your visit to him?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Duncan gazed questioningly at the girl. “We +ask you to do that, and if you have a heart we hope +that you will use your influence in our behalf. You +may tell him–” her eyes blazed–“that we come on +the part of the women of Amity to protest against his +killing us by putting poison in our drinking water.”</p> + +<p>“What?” gasped an astonished Virginia.</p> + +<p>“We don’t propose to sit quiet and allow Obadiah +Dale to murder our children.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span>The very evident amazement and horror of the mill +owner’s daughter at her words caused Mrs. Duncan to +expand upon them in the cause of clearness. “Amity +gets its water supply from the Lame Moose River,” she +explained. “The waste from your father’s mill has +made the water unfit for human consumption. It has +been getting worse for years and now we have much +sickness, especially among children, which the doctors +trace to this cause.”</p> + +<p>“Why, that is terrible. I am sure that my father +knows nothing about it,” cried Virginia with great +earnestness.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Duncan gave an audible sniff of disbelief. +“Oh, I think that he does. We tried to get him to do +something before we took the matter up with the State +Board of Health, but he wouldn’t. They have taken +samples of the water and have decided that the waste +makes it unfit for the use of human beings. So that is +settled.”</p> + +<p>“If that is true why don’t they take the matter up +with my father? Why should you come to him?” +asked Virginia, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“Because,” Mrs. Duncan continued, “your father +is rich and powerful, and even if the Board of Health +orders him to stop running waste into the river he may +take the matter into court and fight it for years. That +is what we are worrying about now. Must Amity go +on drinking poisoned water while your father and the +Board of Health fight in the court? Our purpose is +to attempt to persuade him not to contest the decision of +the Board.”</p> + +<p>“If my father is certain that the waste from his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span> +mill is making people sick, he surely will stop running +it into the river.”</p> + +<p>“It is the only decent thing for him to do,” agreed +Mrs. Duncan, greatly mollified by the attitude of the +girl. “Perhaps the Board of Health has not notified +him of its final decision,” she conceded. “Of course +our Club is greatly interested and we have kept in close +touch with the case. Our representatives have called +frequently at the office of the Board.” She laughed. +“We even had a committee which used to go with Mr. +Joe Curtis, the Board’s representative, every time he +took samples of water at Amity.”</p> + +<p>“Who took the samples?” asked Virginia, instantly +alert.</p> + +<p>“A young man by the name of Curtis. He used to +come out on a motorcycle. He worked for the Board +of Health.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll take the matter up with my father, tonight,” +Virginia promised the women when they left. “You +can be sure that he will do the right thing about it.”</p> + +<p>Her old confidence in her father surged up in the +presence of the callers; but after they had gone the remembrance +of the morning’s episode, with her new +realization of her father, persisted in returning. She +caught herself wondering if it were possible that he, +knowing that the waste from his mill was polluting +the water and causing sickness, had done nothing about +it. Loyally she fought back the thought. He +wouldn’t do that–a wicked thing. He didn’t know +the truth–if the water <i>was</i> bad. That was the point. +Before she talked to him she ought to be certain about +it. Joe Curtis knew and could tell her the truth. Her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span> +father, hearing it from her, would be glad to do the +right thing.</p> + +<p>Yet, regardless of her hopeful reasoning, the memories +of the morning–of her father’s temper torn face +in all of its selfish cruelty of expression–came back +to her and filled her with strange indefinite forebodings +of evil.</p> + +<p>So, it was a different Virginia who came to Joe Curtis +that afternoon. It was one in whose face there +were vague shadows of anxiety and sadness which, regardless +of pathetic efforts at disguise, spoke of an +unquiet heart.</p> + +<p>He sensed the change in her as she greeted him. But +his cheery salutation and his boyish bursts of humor +could not arouse the care free girl whom he had +known.</p> + +<p>She came quickly to the matter which was uppermost +in her mind.</p> + +<p>“Joe, you work for the State Board of Health, +don’t you?”</p> + +<p>His face sobered at her question, as if he recognized +the approach of complications. He nodded affirmatively.</p> + +<p>“You took samples of the river water to find out if +it were made unfit for people to drink by the waste +from my father’s mill, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>He delayed his response so long that she was forced +to repeat her question before she could get even a nod +of admission.</p> + +<p>“Joe, does my father’s mill spoil the water?”</p> + +<p>His head moved uneasily upon his pillow; but he +was silent.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span>“Please answer me,” she urged. “It is very important.”</p> + +<p>He turned upon her almost shortly. “How can I +tell? I never analyzed the water. I couldn’t do it if +I wanted to. You know that I am working my way +through college. I have only had one year of chemistry. +On the rolls of the Board of Health, I am carried +as a laborer. I get samples and certify to the +time and place I took them. The laboratory analyzes +them.”</p> + +<p>“You were around the laboratory. You brought +in the samples. Naturally you must have had some +interest in the matter–in your work. Won’t you +tell me what you know?”</p> + +<p>“Why ask me?” he complained sharply. “I +shouldn’t discuss this matter with you, Virginia. Talk +to your father. He knows all about the case. Let +him tell you.”</p> + +<p>“My father knows!” she exclaimed. She leaned +over the bed and gazed down at him. Though she had +guessed his answer, she must have it in words. “Joe,” +she whispered, “you promised to be my friend. I +must know the truth. I can trust you. Please tell me +about the water.”</p> + +<p>There was a pathetic pleading in her eyes which tore +at his heart. He tried to resist the spell she cast about +him but his face softened beneath her gaze. “I’m +sorry, little girl,” he whispered, and then blurted suddenly, +“Everybody connected with the Board of Health +knows that the waste makes the water fierce. It’s not +fit for a dog to drink.”</p> + +<p>That afternoon Obadiah arrived home early. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span> +Perhaps he meant to patch up a peace with his daughter. +He asked for her as soon as he entered the house and +seemed disappointed when he learned that she had +gone out.</p> + +<p>Virginia came back from the hospital soon after the +arrival of her father. Serena met her when she arrived, +after having viewed her employer with great +hostility through an opening in the portières. The old +negress’ eyes were keen enough to read the shadow +of apprehension lurking in the depths of the blue eyes. +To the faithful servitor it indicated the approach of +sorrow or tragedy to this peaceful domestic haven. +She sought to intervene against fate. “Ain’ you +bettah res’ youse’f befo’ dinner, honey chil’? You’ +Daddy, he’s a readin’ his papah an’ ain’ want to be +’sturbed,” she urged.</p> + +<p>There was determination in the girl’s face. She +pushed aside the black hand which in kindness would +have detained her. “No, Serena, I must see him at +once,” she said, and passed on into the living room.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Virginia. Where have you been hiding +yourself?” was her father’s friendly greeting, but he +gave her a sharp glance.</p> + +<p>She sat down as she told him. “I have been to the +hospital, Daddy.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s face hardened and he scanned the page +before him.</p> + +<p>She watched his movements with unconcealed +anxiety. She was very pale and it was only with an +effort that she could calm herself to say, “A committee +of ladies from Amity came to see you this afternoon.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span>“What did any committee of women want with +me? Money?” he suggested, with a suspicious eye +upon his daughter.</p> + +<p>“No, they came, they said, because the waste from +the mill is spoiling the river water and causing sickness +in their town.”</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t they come to my office about that?”</p> + +<p>“They did, but you were not in.”</p> + +<p>He shifted uneasily in his chair. “Did you talk to +them about it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. They explained the matter to me. They +said that the Board of Health has found that the water +is unfit to drink. They wanted to persuade you not +to go into court about the decision. A law suit might +last for years.”</p> + +<p>He laughed harshly. “They are waking up, are +they? They thought that they could scare me with +the Board of Health. Did you say anything to +them?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Daddy, I told them that if you were assured +that the waste from your mill was making people sick +you would stop running it into the river.”</p> + +<p>There was a crackling sound as he crushed the paper +in his hands.</p> + +<p>“You see, Daddy,” she went on, “I was careful to +make the point that you could not be expected to do +anything unless you were sure that it was the waste +from your mills which was responsible.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah leaped to his feet. A smile of relief swept +over his face. “You caught the point exactly, dear. +How do I know that my mill is responsible for the +trouble?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span>She did not respond to his change of mood but continued, +“The ladies assured me that the Board of +Health, after a careful investigation, has decided that +it is.”</p> + +<p>“Is that so?” he sneered.</p> + +<p>She looked up at the change in his tone. His manner +seemed to make her more resolute as she spoke +again. “The matter was so important that I wanted +to be sure that you knew the truth about it.” Her +voice was trembling now. “I went to the hospital and +asked Mr. Curtis. It was he who took the samples of +water for the Board of Health, and I knew that he +would tell me the truth.”</p> + +<p>“What?” demanded Obadiah, his voice pitched +high.</p> + +<p>“I asked him if the waste from your mill made the +water bad.”</p> + +<p>“Well of all the preposterous interferences–”</p> + +<p>“Joe said that it wasn’t fit for a dog to drink.”</p> + +<p>“What does that booby know about it?”</p> + +<p>“As he works for the Board of Health, even though +he is only a laborer, he knows what they think about +it, and–” she looked squarely at her father–“I believe +him, Daddy.”</p> + +<p>“Believe that idiot?” shouted Obadiah, his face +black as night. “He didn’t have sense enough to +gouge me when your fool admissions gave him the +whip hand. He’s a fine specimen of a man for you to +be running after,” declared the mill owner with scorn. +“It’s a nice thing for a respectable girl to be doing. +You’ll get yourself talked about if I don’t watch you.”</p> + +<p>A change came over Virginia. She stiffened and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span> +her fear seemed to leave her. There was a glint of +anger in her eyes as they showed large against her pale +face. Her soft round chin set in an almost comical +reflection of his obstinate jaw. She arose, and her +level gaze met his angry glower, unafraid. “Stop, +father.” She spoke with wonderful self-restraint. +“You have said quite enough about Mr. Curtis. We +are talking about something else. The waste from +your mill is making people sick. What are you going +to do about it?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” cried Obadiah, in his wrathful falsetto, +his face working convulsively. “I’ve been running +waste into the river for years. If people don’t like it, +let them make the most of it–go thirsty for all I +care. I’ll give them a real fight.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean that, knowing your mill is poisoning +the water which people are forced to drink, you’ll fight +the matter in court as they were afraid you’d +do?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll drag them through the courts until they get +so warm that any water will look good to them.” +Suddenly his temper blazed anew. “What did I tell +you this morning?” he demanded. “I warned you +that I would no longer tolerate your silly interference +in other people’s business. I certainly will not permit +you to butt into my affairs. You go too far–you +and the friends whom you pick up in the street. Do +you understand?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I understand. You spoke too plainly this +morning for me to misunderstand your meaning–as +you are doing now. Daddy, I know that I have made +many mistakes. Yet, everything which you criticize +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span> +was done to aid some one else and in a small way they +did spread happiness.”</p> + +<p>“If you had minded your own business you’d be +happier now.”</p> + +<p>“I was trying to help other people.”</p> + +<p>“God helps him who helps himself,” quoted Obadiah, +virtuously.</p> + +<p>“That doesn’t mean to think only of yourself.”</p> + +<p>Her quiet voiced argument infuriated him. “You’ll +attend to your own business in the future,” he bellowed.</p> + +<p>She did not flinch before his bluster but held her +ground in white faced determination. “You want me +to lead a life of selfishness when there are so many +opportunities to help others?”</p> + +<p>“Call it what you like, only get into your head the +idea that hereafter you will attend to your own affairs +and let the rest of the world do the same.”</p> + +<p>Abruptly her mood changed. She gazed at him with +a great longing. “Oh, Daddy dear, surely you are not +so selfish as all that. I know that deep in your heart +you are not.”</p> + +<p>For an instant it seemed as if his mood were softening +to hers; but his obstinacy reasserted itself and he +hardened himself against her appeal. “I have always +managed to take care of myself and I expect the other +fellow to do the same,” he rapped. “In the future, +you and I will follow that course and avoid this sort +of trouble.”</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i4'></a><img src='images/illus2.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +“‘<span class='sc'>I must choose between your way and the way of my Mother</span>’” +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span>For a moment the pleading look of the girl faded +into one of utter helplessness. She fought to regain +control of herself as if, having reached a decision, she +needed to arouse the physical force to carry it out. +Turning slowly, she moved over to the center table. +From its drawer she took the book which had belonged +to her mother.</p> + +<p>He watched her, silenced, as he perceived the emotional +conflict which was shaking the girl strangely.</p> + +<p>When she confronted him again, her face was tragic +in its sorrow. In those few seconds she had aged. +She had leaped from a girl into womanhood. Her +poise was maintained by sheer power of will. When +she spoke it was in a forced voice, as if the muscles +of her throat strained to hold back the sobs which her +tones confessed to be near. “Daddy, there are two +persons whom I should obey,” she said. “You, my +father, and–” her eyes filled with tears as she raised +the book and clasped it to her breast and whispered +ever so tenderly–“my mother.”</p> + +<p>Wonder held Obadiah speechless in its grasp.</p> + +<p>“A moment ago,” she went on, “you condemned +me to a life of selfishness.” She held the worn little +volume towards him, and then clutched it to her heart. +“In this book is a message from my mother. It is as +plain and clear to me as if I had heard it from her own +lips. She tells me to be unselfish and to think of +others. I must choose between your way and the way +of my mother. I do it now in your presence.” The +girl’s voice softened into an ineffable sweetness. +“Perhaps mother is here, too, and understands about +it. I choose her way, Daddy.”</p> + +<p>Her manner was firmer now, except for the telltale +twitchings of the muscles of her face, as she continued. +“Knowing my mother’s wishes, I could not live as you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span> +would have me. I must go away.” Her voice caught. +“I must go where I can try to be unselfish. You can’t +object to my going to Aunt Kate’s–she has asked +me to visit her so often.” She swayed. Her hand +clutched at the table for support. For an instant her +face worked convulsively, and then, with a little cry +of utter misery, she ran from the room, holding the +book to her breast.</p> + +<p>Late that evening Serena softly knocked at Virginia’s +door. When she was bidden to enter, the +crumpled and disheveled form upon the bed and the +tear streaked face told the story of grief to the big +hearted negress. “Ain’ you gwine eat er li’l suppah, +honey chil’?” she urged.</p> + +<p>“No, Serena, I’m not hungry.” A great sob shook +the girl.</p> + +<p>“Bettah lemme han’ yo’all er cup o’ tea an’ suthin’ +to pick on,” the old darkey pleaded. “Ah fetch it in +er minute.”</p> + +<p>“No, Serena, I can’t eat. I don’t believe that I will +ever want to eat again.” A paroxysm of sobs +wrenched the little frame of the girl and she dabbed +frantically with a moist handkerchief at the great tears +which welled up in the blue eyes.</p> + +<p>The springs of the bed groaned and strained as +Serena seated herself upon its edge. A gentle mothering +look was in her face, and she began to rub the +white arm gently with her big black hand. “Res’ +youse’f, ma li’l honey baby,” she murmured. “Serena +ain’ gwine let nobody hu’t her baby gal.” Suddenly +she bristled. “Dis yere hu’tin’ ma honey chil’ +bettah stop. Ah bus’ somebody plum wide open,” she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span> +growled ferociously. “Ah fights fo’ ma baby agin de +whole wo’ld.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s sobs lessened enough for her to speak. +“I am going away, Serena.”</p> + +<p>“Whar you gwine go, chil’?” exclaimed the old +woman with much excitement.</p> + +<p>“I am going to Aunt Kate’s home in Maine.”</p> + +<p>“W’en is we gwine start?”</p> + +<p>“I go day after tomorrow,” explained Virginia sorrowfully. +“You stay here, Serena.”</p> + +<p>“Howcum? Who plan dat foolishness? Wot +gwine keep me heah w’en ma honey chil’ done leave? +Ah bets ah follers ma baby ef ah has to clim’ ba’foot +th’ough fiah an’ brimstone. Yas’r.”</p> + +<p>“You must stay and take care of my father, Serena.”</p> + +<p>“Wot ah wor’y ’bout him fo’? He done mek ma +baby cry disaway. Ah follers yo’all.”</p> + +<p>“But, Serena, he is my father.”</p> + +<p>“Ain’ ah know dat? But ain’ you ma baby?” +Serena arose in great excitement and pointed a quivering +finger towards the hallway. “You’ Ma done give +you to me,” she cried. But her voice softened tenderly +as she resumed, “De day you’ Ma pass ovah de rivah, +ah wuz er settin’ by de baid er tryin’ to ease ’er wid +er fan. She know dat de good Lord gwine call ’er +home presen’ly, an’ she wuz er waitin’ fo’ de soun’ o’ de +angel’s voice. Her eyes wuz closed jes as dough she +wuz er sleepin’. Jes afo dusk she open ’em an’ look +up with er smile, jes like yourn, honey chil’. She say, +‘Is you still thar, Serena?’ Ah say, ‘Yas’m, Miss +Elinor.’ She say, ‘Ain’ you bettah res’ youse’f on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254'></a>254</span> +dat pallet ovah thar.’ Ah say, ‘Ah ain’ ti’ed none, +Miss Elinor.’ Den you’ ma she look at me kinder +pleadin’ like, an’ say, ‘Serena, you is gwine tek good +caah o’ ma li’l baby, ain’ yer?’ Ah answer, ‘Is ah +gwine ’sert ma own baby?’ Den she ’pear mo’e at +’er ease. De smile come back ag’in. She whisper +kinder sof like, ‘Yes, Serena, you' own baby,’ Den +Miss Elinor close ’er eyes an’ in er li’l w’ile she heah +de sweet voice er callin’ ’er home.” Great tears rolled +down the black cheeks of the old negress. Burying +her face in her apron, she began to sob, and a muffled +voice pleaded pathetically, “Ah caint let ma own baby +go away f’om me.”</p> + +<p>Before the sorrow of her faithful servitor, Virginia’s +own grief was temporarily subdued. She sat up on +the bed and met the unexpected interference with her +plans with firmness. “Serena, I must go. I know +that my mother would want me to go.”</p> + +<p>“How you know?” demanded the practical Serena.</p> + +<p>“I am sure of it. Something deep in my spirit +moves me.”</p> + +<p>“Ef de spi’it move you chil’ you gotta go,” she +admitted, greatly persuaded.</p> + +<p>“But, Serena, even if my mother wants me to go, +she wouldn’t want me to take you away and break up +my father’s home. That would be dreadful. What +would happen to the house? Ike would get into all +sorts of mischief.”</p> + +<p>Serena gave thoughtful heed to the catastrophe +which her departure would bring down upon the house +of Dale.</p> + +<p>“I am not going to stay away from you forever, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255'></a>255</span> +Serena,” Virginia continued, as she made a sorry attempt +to smile through her tear stained eyes. “You +know that I wouldn’t desert you. Promise me to take +good care of Daddy while I am gone, Serena,” pleaded +the girl. “Nothing must happen to him. He must +not be disturbed or made uncomfortable.”</p> + +<p>“Why ah gwine wor’y ’bout him fo’?” demanded +the old negress, obstinately.</p> + +<p>“My mother loved him, Serena, and so do I. +Won’t you take care of him for us?”</p> + +<p>This plea weakened her stand. “Ah promises to do +de bes’ ah knows how fo’ a w’ile but ef yo’all stays +too long ah gwine pack ma duds an’ come whar you is. +Yas’m.”</p> + +<p>Virginia awakened the next morning with a bad +headache. Serena busied herself around her mistress +and finally persuaded her to take a long walk. The +brisk exercise in the fresh air refreshed the girl, and +she decided to go to the hospital and see Joe Curtis +for the last time before she left South Ridgefield.</p> + +<p>In the hall of the institution she met Dr. Jackson.</p> + +<p>“You should have seen my patients this morning,” +he told her. “Those infants are a gay lot. They +cried so loud that they gave me a headache. None +of that fretful weeping with which they serenaded me +last week. That trip up the river helped those kids +wonderfully, and, with the cool weather we are having +now, some of those youngsters are going to see +snow fly who never would have done so if it hadn’t +been for the voyage of the <i>Nancy Jane</i>.”</p> + +<p>Miss Knight came up and slipped an arm about Virginia’s +waist. “Tell the doctor and his babies good +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256'></a>256</span> +bye. He will talk a week about them if you’ll stand +and listen to him,” she laughed, and as she drew the +girl away, explained, “I have a surprise for you, dear.”</p> + +<p>“I can guess it. The room for the motorcyclists is +ready.”</p> + +<p>“No, you’re wrong. I’ll have to show you.” The +nurse led the girl through a door which opened upon +a small porch and pointed over the railing at the +grounds which, lay on the side of the building. +“There,” she said proudly. “Look.”</p> + +<p>Virginia did as she was told. In the shade of a tree +was Joe Curtis seated with outstretched leg in a roller +chair. He answered their waving hands, and his face +lighted up with a smile of pleasure which still remained +when the girl descended the stairs and came to him.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t this fine!” she exclaimed, her delight at seeing +him out of bed dwarfing her own anxieties. “It +seems now as if you were getting better.”</p> + +<p>His eyes danced with pleasure at her coming. Yet, +when he recognized, regardless of her efforts at concealment, +that the gloomy influence, the shadow of +which had cloaked her spirits at their last meeting, had +not departed, his face clouded. He was conscious that +his own disclosures, even though forced from him by +her, might have had some part in causing her unhappiness +and he endeavored to make amends by cheering +her. “I asked Miss Knight to send for my motorcycle +engine,” he informed her. “I told her that I +wanted to hitch it to this chair and get a little speed +out of the thing. I promised her, ‘Whither thou goest, +Knightie, thither will I roll.’”</p> + +<p>Virginia expressed interest in the nurse’s reply.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257'></a>257</span>“After bawling me out for calling her Knightie, she +said that I was getting so attached to her that I spent +my waking hours devising schemes to get hurt so as +not to have to leave her.”</p> + +<p>His visitor’s smile of appreciation comforted Joe +greatly. He took a deep breath and flinched when his +tender ribs rebelled. His eyes roamed over the grass +and trees and he watched the fleecy clouds floating in +the azure sky. He pursued his campaign of encouragement. +“It is great to take a breath of air without +the ether flavor. It’s a wonderful old world anyhow,” +he announced, as he again viewed his surroundings +with great complacency. “Gosh!” he went on, +“I wish I may never again see the inside of a building. +Me for a job in God’s own sunshine.”</p> + +<p>In spite of the consolatory nature of Joe’s remarks, +a great loneliness had descended upon her. As she +looked at him it seemed impossible that such a change +could have come into her life since they two had +planned for the hospital room. Then she had everything +to make her happy. Now she was pledged to +leave her father, her home, the few friends of her +childhood, to go to a relative who was almost a stranger +except in name. As she pictured the future, its loneliness +frightened her. There came the temptation to +bow to her father’s will–to do anything to avoid that +cheerless future.</p> + +<p>Then, in a moment, she was filled with sweet and +tender thoughts of her mother and the creed of unselfishness. +Straightway her resolution was strengthened. +She would follow the way of her mother and +be true to the message, no matter what the cost. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258'></a>258</span> +Surely, God would make her father understand. Until +that time she must wait.</p> + +<p>Joe’s eyes returned to the girl at his side, when, lost +in her own thoughts, she was unconscious of his +scrutiny. The unhappiness which he caught in her +face troubled him anew. “What makes you so sad, +little girl?” he demanded uneasily.</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” she maintained, with a smile so forced +that it pathetically denied the truth of the statement.</p> + +<p>“There is something wrong, I know,” he worried. +“Am I in any way to blame?”</p> + +<p>She shook her head violently and then told him, “I +am going away.”</p> + +<p>“How long will you be gone?” He could not +watch her averted face; but something told him that +this was no ordinary trip.</p> + +<p>“I can’t say, Joe. Perhaps always.”</p> + +<p>As he watched the soft curls at the nape of her neck, +the thought came to him that only owls and prairie +dogs find lodgment in the same hole with a rattlesnake; +whereupon the youth ceased to question and announced +as a fact of noteworthy interest, “So long as nobody +is dead, there is always a way to mend things.”</p> + +<p>There was a suspicion of moisture in her eyes when +she turned to him and said, “Joe Curtis, you are certainly +a cheerful somebody.”</p> + +<p>“Why shouldn’t I be? I might have been killed in +the accident and I wasn’t. Now I’m nearly well.” +Into his optimism came tenderness, as he whispered, +“Best of all, I met you.”</p> + +<p>“Was it worth it?” She was moody for the moment.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259'></a>259</span>“You bet your life,” he exclaimed. “Aren’t you +glad that you met me?”</p> + +<p>Her eyes answered him.</p> + +<p>After a moment, he went on. “Will you tell me +where you are going, Virginia?”</p> + +<p>“I am going to Maine. To Old Rock.”</p> + +<p>“Old Rock, Maine!” he shouted in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Yes. Why not?”</p> + +<p>“It is near the home of my mother. The place is +so small that it seems strange that, with all of the +rest of the world to go to, you should be going +there.”</p> + +<p>Virginia arose from the bench and came over by his +chair. “Good bye, Joe,” she said, very softly. “I +hope that you will soon be well.” A sad little face +looked down at him. “Please, forgive me for hurting +you. I am so sorry.” Her lips trembled.</p> + +<p>“Forget it,” he said roughly; but there was that in +his face which contradicted his tone. “I ran into +you.”</p> + +<p>“We can’t agree, can we?” she said thoughtfully, +and her voice broke as she continued, “I want to ask a +favor of you, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Sure.” He eyed her expectantly.</p> + +<p>“Will you see that the room–is nicely arranged?”</p> + +<p>“You bet I will.”</p> + +<p>“When I am gone there will be no one to care–but +you.” She fought back the tears and put up a +brave front. “Good bye, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Wait a minute,” he commanded.</p> + +<p>She reached for his hand and repeated, very sweetly, +very softly, “Good bye, Joe.” She moved away a few +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260'></a>260</span> +steps; but turned back to cry very tenderly, “Good +bye, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Come back, please, Virginia,” wailed Joe.</p> + +<p>She hesitated, battling with tears.</p> + +<p>“Please, come back, Virginia. Remember, I am +helpless. I can’t come after you.”</p> + +<p>She retraced her steps. “What is it?” she asked, +her averted gaze apparently interested in the street beyond +the grounds.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps this is not good bye.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him now with great interest.</p> + +<p>He seized her hand and drew her closer to the chair, +smiling up into her face, as he explained, “It may not +be good bye for us, because–if I were quite sure +that you wanted to see me–I might come up to Old +Rock.”</p> + +<p>She smiled at him. It was as if storm clouds had +broken and let the rays of the sun through. “Oh, +Joe,” she cried, “it would be lovely if you came up. +Old Rock seems to be a dreadfully lonesome place.”</p> + +<p>“Old Rock lonesome!” he protested. “Not a bit +of it, Virginia. There are lots of interesting things +to do. We can take grand tramps.” In his enthusiasm +for his home town, Joe forgot his game leg. +“Some evening, I’ll take you down to the big granite +bowlder, from which the town gets its name, on the +shore of the pond. We can get on top of it and watch +the moon come up over the tree covered hill on the +other side until it makes a shimmering pathway across +the water and turns the old white church on the hill +into a castle of silver. I love to sit there and watch +the lights of the village go out, one by one. It’s lovely +then. The only sounds are the song of the crickets, the +distant tinkle of a sheep bell, the splash of a leaping +bass or maybe the hooting of an old owl. It is a +beautiful place, Virginia, and with you there it would +be wonderful.”</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i5'></a><img src='images/illus3.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +“‘<span class='sc'>I think that I shall love it,’ she said softly</span>” +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261'></a>261</span>She listened to his words, her eyes big with interest, +and a new happiness struggling in her heart. “I think +that I shall love it,” she said softly, and, after a moment’s +hesitation, “How long–how soon will you +be able to come, Joe?”</p> + +<p>An attendant approached to take the injured motorcyclist +back to the ward.</p> + +<p>Virginia hastily withdrew her hand from Joe’s grasp +and immediately gave it back to him, when he cried, +“Not good bye but until we meet in Old Rock.”</p> + +<p>As she watched the attendant wheel the injured man +away and turned to leave the hospital grounds, the +girl was wonderfully cheered, and her mind accepted +Joe Curtis’s picture of Old Rock by moonlight as conclusive +evidence that this ancient village was not lonesome.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262'></a>262</span><a id='link_16'></a>CHAPTER XVI<br /><span class='h2fs'>VIRGINIA MUST GO</span></h2> + +<p>Virginia sank limply into the parlor car seat. +After a moment she raised herself and looked out +through the wide window upon the busy platform of +the South Ridgefield station. Serena and Ike waited +by the car nervously, endeavoring to locate the position +of their mistress by peering into the coach. The old +negress was publicly weeping.</p> + +<p>As they caught sight of the girl, the train started +and with rapidly increasing speed moved down the +platform. Ike grinned a cheerful farewell while Serena +screamed her adieu, and, as if unable to bear the +separation, started to waddle along with the train, frantically +waving her black hands.</p> + +<p>Virginia signaled back and shouted embarrassed little +good byes, subconsciously aware that they would +be heard by no one except her traveling companions. +As the two negroes were swept from her sight, a feeling +of utter loneliness wrapped her in its gloomy folds. +Pent up tears flooded her eyes, and so, through a mist, +she saw at the end of the platform a man and woman, +waving handkerchiefs from an automobile, who looked +remarkably like Hezekiah Wilkins and Mrs. Henderson. +Likewise, through a curtain of moisture, when +the train crossed the bridge, she perceived the stranded +<i>Nancy Jane</i>, symbolical of her own wrecked efforts.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263'></a>263</span>As the roar of the train upon the bridge died away, +the girl sank back again into her seat and succumbed +completely to her grief. During those last few hours +at home she had steeled herself not to display her feelings. +She had met her father on the previous day and +explained her plans quite as calmly as if she were about +to take an ordinary vacation trip.</p> + +<p>The decision of his daughter to leave him, based as +it was upon the inspiration of her mother, dead these +seventeen years, had left him strangely helpless. In +his passion he had thrust aside the cloak of idealism +in which she had arrayed him and exposed his true +character. She had struck back, unwittingly selecting +a weapon which had swept aside his momentary anger +and left him shaken and perplexed at the edge of the +abyss which had opened between them. Obadiah, too, +had been unhappy in those hours. He loved Virginia +with all the affection of which his nature was capable. +There had been moments when he would have surrendered +abjectly to his daughter on her own terms but +for the grim obstinacy which obsessed him.</p> + +<p>It may be that she intuitively appreciated his mental +struggles, because, excepting only her determination to +leave home, she treated him with the tenderest consideration. +In his perplexity, Obadiah drifted for the +moment and blindly followed the girl’s lead, as if +through her alone could come the solution of the problem +which separated them. Their breakfast that morning +had been a difficult ordeal as had been their leave +taking. He had displayed no desire to accompany her +to the train and had parted from her with a grim indifference +which his troubled face belied.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264'></a>264</span>Now, at least, there was relief in the luxury of a +good cry; but after a time the tears ceased and a weary +peace came. Resting her head against the back of her +chair she gave herself up to thoughts of the few little +happinesses which gleamed like bright stars in the darkness +with which she was surrounded.</p> + +<p>She thought of Joe Curtis and thrilled when she remembered +the long hand clasp. His picture of Old +Rock comforted her anew as she assured herself that +such a place could not be lonely. She reviewed the +few moments in which she had bidden farewell to Mrs. +Henderson. She had dreaded Hennie’s embarrassing +questions. But, strangely, Hennie was not inquisitive. +She had broken away to rush into her kitchen crying +loudly that something was burning. This belief, from +certain remarks which had floated back, had irritated +Carrie, her cook, exceedingly. Returning, she had enveloped +the girl in a wealth of motherly tenderness, so +that in reality the visit had consisted of much sobbing +upon the older woman’s shoulder to an accompaniment +of soothing endearments and a train of explosive exclamations +from which little could be gathered.</p> + +<p>Soon she began to think of her Aunt Kate and of +the new home to which she was going. Little enough +she knew. Once, shortly before the death of Elinor +Dale, Mrs. Kate Baker had visited South Ridgefield. +At the time, she had a baby daughter of Virginia’s age +and was mourning the death of her husband. For +years there had been irregular correspondence; but, as +far as Virginia was concerned, her father’s sister and +her cousin were merely names.</p> + +<p>The day of tiresome travel slowly passed. There +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265'></a>265</span> +were times when, in a wave of despair, Virginia pictured +herself adrift on a sea of sadness, where all was +dark and cheerless; but there were moments when sweet +thoughts of her mother strengthened her and made her +resolve to stand by her colors, no matter what the cost.</p> + +<p>It was late that evening when the train arrived at +Old Rock. The unusual excitement and the fatigue of +traveling had brought on a persistent headache, so that +it was a most forlorn and miserable Virginia who was +helped down from the car. Hardly had her bag been +dropped at her side when the train moved on. As the +metal doors clanged shut, it seemed to the girl as if it +were the sound of the gates of her old life closing +against her. She gazed timidly about the station. It +was very dark to this girl of the city–this child of +the electric lights. The fear of the unknown seized +her. Sick, frightened, every limb of her trembling, +she hesitated helplessly.</p> + +<p>A figure approached through the gloom, and the soft, +cheery voice of a girl inquired, “Cousin Virginia?”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s throat was dry and husky. “Yes.” Her +answer was only a whisper. A frightened little sound, +but it was all that she could make.</p> + +<p>Now a hand seized her arm and she was led along the +platform. They came under a station lamp, and again +the voice spoke as they faced a tall, angular, plainly +dressed woman. “Here she is, mother.”</p> + +<p>Virginia looked up into a face which made her gasp +in astonishment. In the eyes, the mouth, the deep cut +lines, was resemblance to her father but, oh, with what +a difference. It was Obadiah sweetened by love and +affection. The harshness, the obstinacy, the selfishness +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266'></a>266</span> +of him were memories here. In their place lay a gentle, +motherly look beneath the soft, white hair and from +the eyes beamed a tender welcome to the lonely girl.</p> + +<p>As Virginia hesitated diffidently, the lamp overhead +brought out the pallor and the pathos of her wan +tired little face. With never a word but just a soft +exclamation she sank into the outstretched arms of her +aunt.</p> + +<p>“You poor tired darling,” whispered Aunt Kate. +She fixed a look of great severity over Virginia’s shoulder +at her own daughter. “Helen,” she cried, “do +you expect visitors to carry their own baggage? Take +Virginia’s bag to the surrey.” As Helen obediently +departed, Aunt Kate gave her guest a motherly hug, +meanwhile making strange noises in her throat. Releasing +one arm with great care lest the girl be disturbed, +she endeavored to wipe a tear from her wrinkled +cheek with a finger. “Come, child,” she said +sharply. “You must get to bed. How do you feel?” +When she learned of the headache she commiserated +with her niece. “You poor child. Sleep is the best +treatment for that.”</p> + +<p>A surrey drawn by a remarkably fat horse was waiting +for them back of the station.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you feel well, Cousin Virginia?” inquired +Helen from the front seat.</p> + +<p>“It’s only a headache, Cousin Helen.”</p> + +<p>There was sincere relief in Helen’s voice as she replied, +“I am so glad that it is nothing worse.”</p> + +<p>Virginia and her Aunt climbed into the back seat of +the conveyance.</p> + +<p>“Hush,” cried Helen in a loud whisper. “Archimedes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267'></a>267</span> +is asleep. It’s a shame to disturb him. I +haven’t the heart to hit him,” she giggled.</p> + +<p>“Be careful and don’t strike that horse cruelly, +Helen,” Aunt Kate warned her daughter, as if that +maiden were habitually guilty of cruelty to animals.</p> + +<p>Helen disregarded her mother’s remark. “Archimedes +is dreaming of corn and oats and hay and green +pastures. He must dream of such things, as he never +thinks of anything else,” she laughed.</p> + +<p>“Stop your nonsense, Helen. I have a sick girl +here who should be in bed.”</p> + +<p>“I’m better already,” protested Virginia.</p> + +<p>“Get up, Arch,” cried Helen.</p> + +<p>Archimedes stood fast.</p> + +<p>“Arch,” she called again.</p> + +<p>No movement followed.</p> + +<p>“Pull on the reins, Helen,” suggested Aunt Kate.</p> + +<p>“Mother, how many times must I tell you that to +pull on the reins is no way to start a horse. A logical +minded animal would expect you to push on the lines +when you want him to stop, and that wouldn’t do at +all.” That mischievous giggle came again and Helen +gave the horse a smart tap with the whip.</p> + +<p>The lazy steed flinched slightly and moved slowly +forward.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be cruel, Helen, and keep in the gutter.”</p> + +<p>“Mother, there are no automobiles out at this time +of night. For once, when we have company, we should +drive in the middle of the road. As we pay taxes, we +have a right there,” argued Helen. “I am getting +curvature of the spine from driving with one wheel in +the gutter.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268'></a>268</span>“It is so much safer, Helen. Archimedes can’t get +out of the way quickly.”</p> + +<p>“Why should he? Let the automobiles make room +for us once. Are we frightened chickens to flee from +them?”</p> + +<p>“It makes the people in the machines so cross, Helen. +They say such unkind things.”</p> + +<p>Delightful remembrances returned to Helen. +“Mother, are you thinking of the man who offered to +lend us his jack to move Archimedes out of the road?”</p> + +<p>“That man was very angry.”</p> + +<p>“He was, mother. I hope that he has gotten over it +by now,” laughed Helen. She clucked energetically +and went on, “As you are with us tonight, we will +pursue our usual humble way in the gutter. But,” she +declared emphatically, “when Virginia and I go driving +we will take the middle of the road and keep it in +spite of all the horn-blowing goggle-eyed men in the +state of Maine. Archimedes shall not be insulted. +His proud spirit rebels.”</p> + +<p>They jogged along, the proud spirit of Archimedes +being well content with a modest speed. Turning into +a driveway, they ascended a slight incline and drove +into a large barn.</p> + +<p>“This is my department,” Helen told her cousin +with pride as she unharnessed Archimedes. When he +was safe in his stall she paused before the white face +of a Holstein cow. “Cowslip,” she giggled, “this is +your cousin Virginia who has come to visit you.”</p> + +<p>A door opened and Aunt Kate called, “Helen, bring +your cousin in. Don’t keep her out in that barn when +she has a headache.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269'></a>269</span>So, with an arm about her cousin’s waist, Helen +guided her on her first trip along a Maine domestic +pathway which begins in the stable, or even chicken +house, and runs under one roof to the parlor.</p> + +<p>Virginia paused in a doorway that opened into a +large oblong room. In its center was a great, square, +brick chimney which divided it into a cosy kitchen +forming a most convenient part of the dining room, +and a dining room which was a most pleasant part of +the kitchen. The low room with its old-fashioned +paper, its white-curtained, square-paned windows and +its painted floor, was delightfully homey and cheerful. +It seemed particularly so to Virginia, with the motherly +face of her aunt smiling a kindly welcome and the +arm of her pretty blonde cousin drawing her affectionately +towards its comfort.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, with a bag in one hand and a +candlestick in the other, Helen led her cousin up the +stairs to the cosiest little bed room imaginable. Its +low ceiling sloped with the roof except where broken +by dainty curtained dormer windows. A mahogany +four poster, a highboy and a table with some chairs +constituted its furniture, while upon the floor were +round rugs of woven rags.</p> + +<p>After Helen had departed and she had removed the +traces of her journey, Virginia seated herself in a +rocker for a moment. She felt as if a weight had been +lifted from her shoulders. The fear of the unknown, +which had so terrified her, was gone. In spite of her +sadness, when she thought of her father, she felt reassured +and comforted. As the girl sat there, a tender +dreamy look of indescribable sweetness crept into her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270'></a>270</span> +face. Her lips moved and she whispered ever so +softly, “Mother, your way is not so hard.”</p> + +<p>The simple little supper, to which the three women +sat down that evening was delightful to Virginia. +And afterwards, what a gay time they had with the +dishes. The city cousin, whose headache was now a +thing of the past, donned an apron and assisted in drying +them. Never had Serena permitted her this proud +privilege and how pleased she was to do it now. She +polished the few plates upon which she had the time to +apply her intensive treatment until they shone and +sparkled bravely beneath the lamplight.</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate watched her strenuous efforts for a time +in silence and then burst forth, “Good land, if I +weren’t sure that the blue on that old willow ware was +burned deep, child, I’d be afraid you’d rub it off.”</p> + +<p>“Virginia is exercising, mother,” laughed Helen.</p> + +<p>“If she exercises that hard on each dish, she won’t +have either the strength or time to do the rest of her +work. No man would want to marry a girl who puts +in her time wiping dishes. Most of them would rather +look at good things to eat in their plates than at the +reflection of their own faces, I’ll warrant you.”</p> + +<p>How the two girls did enjoy Aunt Kate’s sage remark +and what a pleasant little chat they had when +supper was over.</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate sat in her easy chair and sewed, and now +and then interjected a word of wisdom into their conversation +which convulsed them. Finally she yawned, +and, looking at the old wooden cased clock upon the +mantel, announced, “It’s time all honest folks were in +bed and rogues were movin’.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271'></a>271</span>A short time after this pointed remark, Virginia, +tingling with the chill of the northern night which +swept in as she opened her windows, climbed into bed, +and, pulling the blankets about her, she gave a little +sigh and, very much like her old self, plunged into a +deep and dreamless slumber.</p> + +<p>When she awakened the next morning, sunlight was +streaming into the room. Filled with curiosity over +her new surroundings, she sprang from her bed and +gazed out of the window. Across the road, which ran +in front of the house, a newly mowed meadow rolled +down to the shore of a lake or pond a short distance +away. Its surface, rippled by the morning breeze, glittered +and sparkled in the sun. Beyond the water, rising +abruptly from its edge, was a great hill, its slope +covered with a forest of pine and fur and hemlock. +The green expanse of the meadow was broken by +islands of maple and oak while several huge granite +bowlders stood forth against the sod in all of their grey +majesty. The color of the soft, rich summer sky, +dotted with floating masses of fleecy white, was reflected +in the flashing water. The trees and grass, yet +glistening with the morning dew, were a moist green, +untouched by the yellow of sun scorch or drought. It +was a restful verdancy which spoke of frequent rains, +of cool days and of cooler nights.</p> + +<p>“Virginia, are you awake?” came the voice of her +aunt from the hall.</p> + +<p>She climbed hastily back into bed as her aunt entered.</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate smiled sweetly down at the girl whose +serious eyes reflecting the color of the morning sky, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272'></a>272</span> +gazed at her from a mass of wavy black hair. “How +is the headache?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“It left last night, Aunt Kate, and hasn’t come +back.”</p> + +<p>“That’s good.” Aunt Kate’s voice was very gentle +and sympathetic. She sat upon the edge of the bed +and, leaning forward, patted the soft cheek of her +niece.</p> + +<p>Again, in the lined face of her aunt, Virginia recognized +that resemblance to her father, so wonderfully +softened by kindness and sweetness. The thought +came to the girl that her mother would have had such +a tenderness of look had she lived. A flood of memories +swept down upon her and tears welled up in her +eyes.</p> + +<p>Her aunt gathered her into those mothering arms +again, and almost before the girl appreciated what she +was doing she had opened her heart and told her woes +in the gloomiest way possible.</p> + +<p>After she had soothed her niece, until she could give +a teary little smile, Aunt Kate arose and, moving to +the window, viewed the familiar landscape with a stern +eye, sniffing portentously. In a moment she began to +speak. “We Dales are a selfish and obstinate family. +We were always so.” There was a note of pride in her +voice. “The men are worse than the women–much +worse–more obstinate and selfish, dear,” she repeated. +“I know my brother Obadiah–better than +he knows himself. I am very glad, child, that you +told me about the whole thing.” Suddenly her voice +became sharp and emphatic and she fastened a severe +look upon Virginia. “Don’t you for a minute get it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273'></a>273</span> +into your head that you have run away from home. +If you had, I should take you back myself. You +should have visited your cousin Helen and me a dozen +times before, and now we will make up for your neglect +and give brother Obadiah a chance to calm himself +after the disturbances you have created.” She +paused for a moment and then went on, smiling sweetly, +“I want you to be your own sweet self here and have +a jolly time with Helen.” Her tones became gentle. +“Follow the way of your mother until the end of your +life. Sometimes it will lead through gloomy valleys +but it is the road which leads to the sunshine of the +heights. Hum,” she cried sharply, “read ‘Pilgrim’s +Progress,’ child. It says the same thing, but better.”</p> + +<p>A much cheered Virginia came down to breakfast, +and, like the very healthy young person she was, in +obedience to her aunt’s command and the natural law +of youth, forgot the unhappiness of yesterday in the +joys of the present.</p> + +<p>The days which followed were crowded with happy +hours. There were drives long in time but short in +mileage behind the majestic Archimedes over tree-shaded +roads. Unaccompanied by the timid Aunt +Kate, they forsook the humble gutter and seized the +crown of the road. With peals of ringing laughter, +they pursued their slow way, unmindful of irate tourists +filled with the belief that the road and the width +thereof was theirs to be covered at fifty scorching miles +an hour, and that delays from slow moving taxpayers +were an interference with their vested rights as well as +to their progress towards the uttermost parts of the +earth.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274'></a>274</span>There were plunges into the cold depths of the pond +followed by wild scrambles, when, with chilled muscles, +they ran through the cool air over the meadow to +the house.</p> + +<p>There were long paddles in the canoe where every +curve and bend of a stream opened a new vista of +loveliness, of woods, of stream, of hill, of rolling +meadow.</p> + +<p>There were tramps through forests of fir and pine +where their feet sank into the soft cushion of needles +and they climbed until they came out on the rugged +tops of hills where, resting in weariness, they drank +deep of the pure air and feasted their eyes upon the +pleasing prospect below them.</p> + +<p>Tired and weary but happy beyond relief, they would +return in the evening and, catching sight of Aunt Kate +waiting upon the porch, greet her with gay shouts and, +both speaking at once, relate stirring adventures of +field and flood with cows and frogs and sheep and +dogs.</p> + +<p>Jolly feasts these three women had when sore muscles +rested after the day’s effort. Never were such +vegetables grown as came from the garden back of the +barn. Where else, pray tell, could such desserts be +found as Aunt Kate made? Or what could be more +delicious than those big bowls of raspberries or blueberries +afloat in Cowslip’s rich, thick contribution to +the feast?</p> + +<p>Afterwards, Virginia would write letters until too +soon a nodding head and leaden eyelids would force +her to bed. Her correspondence was large in those +days. She wrote to Mrs. Henderson and Serena and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275'></a>275</span> +Joe Curtis; but more often she wrote to her father, +telling him all that she did.</p> + +<p>Regularly to her, came letters from him. They were +formal, precise epistles in a style which might be described +as having commercial tendencies and obviously +prepared by Mr. Jones at the dictation of Obadiah.</p> + +<p>As the weeks passed “V,” as Helen nicknamed +her cousin, developed muscle and flesh and grew amazingly, +and the coat of tan she acquired would have +been a scandalous thing in any beauty parlor in the +land.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276'></a>276</span><a id='link_17'></a>CHAPTER XVII<br /><span class='h2fs'>A FRIEND IN NEED</span></h2> + +<p>A weatherworn, disreputable hammock swung +lazily between two big fruit laden apple trees beside +Aunt Kate’s home. Time was when it had been a +gaudy, betasseled thing taken into the house each night. +But familiarity breeds contempt for choice possessions +as well as friends. Now the hammock hung unwatched +from June until October. No longer a cherished +chattel, it was left to face the ravages of time +and weather and man.</p> + +<p>Yet, in its ripe old age, it had achieved the goal of +all good hammocks. It had found its place, not, of +course, in the sun–that not being the custom of hammocks–but +in Aunt Kate’s household. It had become +a place of conference, of discussion, aye, even of mutual +confession for Helen and her cousin Virginia.</p> + +<p>It swung lazily in the light breeze of the morning. +Not slothfully, but in the relaxation of resting strength +prepared instantly to meet its burdens and responsibilities. +It was well that this was so. Upon the self-same +breeze which swung it, came sounds of laughter +and the patter of small feet. With sudden strain and +elastic resistance, carried even to the uppermost twigs +of the trees, the hammock received the two girls as +they precipitated themselves into its lap.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277'></a>277</span>“I beat,” cried Helen with the pride of victory, +changed suddenly into a wail of anguish as a dislodged +Bell-flower apple dropped upon her head. “Oh-o-o-o,” +she groaned; “those apples make me mad. This is +the second time that one of them has struck me on the +head and I am getting tired of it.”</p> + +<p>In her own end of the hammock Virginia was coiled +in a most precarious position. She was so interested +in her letter that she failed to give her cousin the full +measure of tender sympathy to which that maiden felt +herself entitled.</p> + +<p>Helen rubbed her head with vigor. “Say something +‘V.’ Is anything the matter with your heart?” +she exclaimed, fixing reproachful eyes upon her absorbed +companion.</p> + +<p>“Did it hurt?” Virginia, deep in her letter, politely +inquired. Her words, however, lacked that warm condolence +for which the head and heart of her cousin +yearned.</p> + +<p>“Did it hurt?” mimicked Helen in disgust. “What +a question! It is exactly as bad as if a brick had +fallen off the chimney on my head. Yet you sit there +and ask if it hurt. What do you think my head is +made of?”</p> + +<p>“Fudge,” cried Virginia as the wind twisted her letter +so that she could not read it.</p> + +<p>“Wh-a-at?” Helen was highly indignant until she +discovered that her cousin’s remark was not a personal +allusion. “Never mind,” she threatened; “see how I +treat you the next time that you get hurt.”</p> + +<p>Virginia finished her letter. She wiggled over towards +Helen, an operation which placed both girls in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278'></a>278</span> +imminent danger of being pitched upon their faces. +“I am sorry for your poor head, dear,” she giggled, +“or should I be sorry for the apple? Let me look.”</p> + +<p>Helen thrust aside the inquisitive fingers. “Let me +alone, you unsympathetic wretch. Wait until my turn +comes. Even if you writhe before me in great agony, +I shall laugh. Laugh coldly–ha–ha.”</p> + +<p>Virginia disregarded future calamities. “I have a +letter from Joe Curtis. It happens to be one which +I might read to you, if you are real nice.”</p> + +<p>Instantly, feminine curiosity caused Helen to forget +injuries and pledged vengeance. “Please, ‘V.,’ I +should love to hear it,” she begged, and then listened +with rapt attention as her cousin read,</p> + +<div class='bquote'> +<p>“<i>My dear little girl</i>:</p> + +<p>“This morning Miss Knight brought your letter to +me on the grounds where I had been taken in the roller +chair. She was grumbling about it being the business +of the Post Office Department to establish a rural free +delivery route and not expect her to chase around with +my mail.</p> + +<p>“I spend most of my time in the chair, now. Soon +I’ll be on crutches, and after that it won’t be long +before I am discharged.</p> + +<p>“But this letter is written to give you the big news. +The room for motorcyclists is open for business. Miss +Knight took me to see it and it is dandy. I asked her +what she thought about it now, seeing that she had so +much to say when we were planning it. Her answer +was, ‘It’s the best cure for blues I know. If I am +downhearted, all I have to do is to come up here and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279'></a>279</span>think about you two innocents and I laugh myself sick.’</p> + +<p>“I told her that her ideas of humor led towards the +psychopathic ward and warned her to beware of alienists +or squirrels because they might develop a personal +interest in her.</p> + +<p>“What do you think? The very day they opened +the room it had a patient. You never would guess who +it was. It was that fellow Jones who works in your +father’s office. He must be a regular dare devil of a +rider. When the accident happened, he had cut in +front of a moving street car. The machine hung in +the fender and Jones went on and landed in a city +trash wagon at the curb. His head and face were cut +but the trash was soft. He bled so that the by-standers +decided that he was dying and sent him to the hospital. +Of course, the doctors kept him.</p> + +<p>“Miss Knight said that, from the odor about Jones +when he came in, she guessed people were careless about +separating trash from garbage. She told Jones that +he must have thought he was among old home folks +when he landed.</p> + +<p>“To be neighborly, I called upon him. Everything +was beautiful in the room but him. I told him that he +looked as out of place as a dead rat in a flour barrel. +That peeved him, so I asked him if he hadn’t felt more +at home in the trash wagon. He got sore and grabbed +up a glass. ‘I’ll bounce this off your ventilator if you +don’t get out of here,’ he yelled.</p> + +<p>“That made me mad. ‘You can't put me out,’ I +told him. ‘I’ve got more right in here than you. If +you don’t stop yapping around my heels I will pull you +out of that bed and get in it myself.’</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280'></a>280</span>“He got crazy then and started to climb out of the +bed but Miss Knight came in and shoved him down +on his pillow. ‘Take that big cheese out of here before +I break his other leg,’ he bawled.</p> + +<p>“She began to laugh fit to kill herself and said, +‘Joe, what kind of gentle sympathy do you give the +weak and injured which makes them wish to rise up +and fight?’–when she rolled me away from that wild +man.</p> + +<p>“Your letter made me homesick for the north country. +I have fished all over that pond. You wouldn’t +catch hornpouts if you fished in the right place and +used the proper kind of bait. I used to go to the north +end of the pond by the lily pads. Bait your hook with +a live minnow and drop it in there about sundown. +The fun will come suddenly. Mr. Pickerel strikes with +the speed of an express train. Try it. When I come +up we will go fishing.</p> + +<p>“A tray is coming my way so I must stop. I think +of you every day and, believe me, just as soon as this +hospital turns me loose I am going to go where I can +see and talk to the nicest girl in all the world.</p> + +<p>“Good bye, Miss Hornpout catcher.</p> +</div> <!-- block quote --> + +<p class='btar'>“Affectionately,<br />“<span class='sc'>Joe</span>.”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s face was aglow with happiness as she finished +reading and turned to Helen. “He is the nicest +man. Doesn’t he write interesting letters to me?” she +murmured softly.</p> + +<p>The sentimental Helen gazed into the distance, lost +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281'></a>281</span> +in dreams conjured by this epistle. “Yes, he does,” +she agreed. “You must adore him, dear.”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s face crimsoned at this bold remark. +“We are only friends,” she protested.</p> + +<p>“Sincere friendship and complete understanding between +two is wonderful,” sighed Helen from her eighteen +years’ experience of the vicissitudes of life, and she +displayed further keen insight into the problems of existence, +when she continued, “Sympathetic appreciation +strengthens one to meet sorrow.”</p> + +<p>Virginia gazed raptly at her cousin.</p> + +<p>“Such sincere friendship should be cherished as +some tender flower,” Helen went on. “Is it not +written that from the mouths of babes shall come +wisdom?”</p> + +<p>“You do express yourself so well, Helen. You +have so much feeling in your nature–such breadth to +your character, dear,” responded Virginia.</p> + +<p>The two girls pensively viewed the pond, possibly +recuperating from the strain of their conversation.</p> + +<p>“It almost seems that I know him,” Helen whispered.</p> + +<p>Virginia turned suspiciously upon her cousin. “Did +you know Joe Curtis? Did you go to school with +him?” she demanded.</p> + +<p>“I can’t remember the name, ‘V.’ What does he +look like?”</p> + +<p>Very valiantly Virginia attempted a word picture of +Joe. “He is a big fellow. His eyes are black–and +large–and dreamy.” She mused for a moment +and resumed with animation. “His eyes are bright–and +snapping–and brave–” again she paused and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282'></a>282</span> +then she concluded very softly–“and sweet. He has +a smile which tears your heart.”</p> + +<p>“How wonderful he must be!” sighed Helen. She +shook her head emphatically. “If I had met him, I +should have remembered him until the last hour of my +life.”</p> + +<p>There followed a dreamy silence devoted to maidenly +meditation concerning the manifold charms of Joe +Curtis until an idea caused Helen to cry, “Virginia, +you should go fishing in the place Joe wrote about. I +know where it is. Think of it, you would fish in the +same place, in the same water and by the same lily pads +where he has been. We couldn’t catch the same fish +but we might catch relatives.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s go now,” agreed Virginia, moved greatly by +Helen’s sentimental suggestion.</p> + +<p>It was a long pull in the row boat to the head of the +pond; but they took turns at the oars and at last arrived +at their destination. The day was warm and the +exercise at the oars did not cool the girls.</p> + +<p>Helen noted the position of the sun which yet hung +high. “Nothing will bite, now ‘V.,’” she objected. +“We came hours too soon. He said to fish at sundown. +We had better go ashore and wait.”</p> + +<p>Glad to get out of the burning sun, they rowed to the +shore and, clambering up the bank, dropped down in a +shady spot.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Helen became restless. “I hear a strange +humming noise,” she worried.</p> + +<p>Virginia was likewise nervously alert. “I hear it, +too. It’s a low buzzing–much louder than mosquitoes,” +she agreed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283'></a>283</span>“What can it be?” Helen troubled.</p> + +<p>“It’s my hornets’ nest,” cried a childish voice behind +them.</p> + +<p>With startled exclamations, the girls turned their +heads.</p> + +<p>Looking over the top of a granite bowlder a short +distance away was a small boy. He was a very thin +and delicate child about five years old, wearing a pair +of faded khaki rompers and a shirt of the same material.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know any better than to sit under a hornets’ +nest?” he exclaimed in disgust. “Do you want +to get yourselves stung to death?”</p> + +<p>The two girls raised their eyes. Partially concealed +by the lower branches of the tree, a great cone of clay +hung above them. From it and the insects flying about +it came the buzzing sound.</p> + +<p>“Crawl, Virginia, and don’t you dare make a noise,” +whispered Helen.</p> + +<p>From the top of the rock the infant witnessed the +ignominious retreat from dangerous territory. +“Come over here,” he urged. “Much hornets never +come near me.”</p> + +<p>Relying upon the superior judgment of the masculine +mind, the girls turned and humbly crept towards this +place of refuge.</p> + +<p>“I guess you might stand up, now,” the boy told +them. “If the hornets had wanted to sting you, they’d +have done it before.”</p> + +<p>They arose and forthwith began to dust their skirts.</p> + +<p>“Stop!” commanded the child in a voice of alarm. +“Haven’t you got any sense? Want to get me stung? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284'></a>284</span> +If you make a noise the hornets will come sneaking +over to see what is going on.” His manner changed +to one of great politeness as he went on, “I have a +house back here. You can come over there and dust +yourselves if you want to.” He slid down back of the +rock. When he reappeared around its corner, he made +funny little skips and for the first time they noticed +that he used a crutch. One of his legs was flexed by +distorted muscles until he carried it a couple of inches +above the ground. Notwithstanding this handicap, he +moved rapidly along a pathway ahead of him. Where +the grass of the meadow began at the edge of the +woods, he waited for them and pointed with pride to +a small opening in a clump of birches. “This is my +house,” he told them.</p> + +<p>Virginia dropped upon her knees and peeped in. +“How lovely,” she cried.</p> + +<p>Before her the flat top of a rock projecting slightly +above the surface of the ground served as a floor. +A thick hedge of birch saplings grew about it, constituting +the walls. The branches arching it had been +cut away as high as a man’s head. Above this they +joined in a dense mass, forming the roof of the bower.</p> + +<p>Following their little host, the girls entered.</p> + +<p>“What a lovely house,” said Helen. “Did you +make it?”</p> + +<p>“God made most of it,” he answered with great +solemnity. “Mother cut away the high branches and +I cut the low ones and it was done. I didn’t have it +all, at first, though.”</p> + +<p>“How was that?” Helen inquired.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Woodchuck lived in the cellar beneath the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285'></a>285</span> +stone. There is his stairway.” He pointed to an +opening at the edge of the rock, surrounded by pebbles +and clay. “As soon as I moved in Mr. Woodchuck +moved out.”</p> + +<p>“Are you all alone now?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no indeed, a chipmunk lives over there, who +is very friendly. Up in that tree is a bird’s nest; but +the young ones have gone away now. Then there are +the hornets and a snake lives under the rock over +there.”</p> + +<p>“Snakes!” screamed both of the girls.</p> + +<p>“Yes, a grass snake.” The infant was openly disgusted +at the display of feminine timidity. “Who’s +afraid of an old snake? I’m not. That snake is so +afraid that I will catch him that he don’t dare come +out.”</p> + +<p>The neighborhood distrust relieved the fears of the +visitors and they began to make themselves comfortable.</p> + +<p>“Oh, ‘V.,’ this would be a grand place to eat our +lunch,” suggested Helen and to the boy she said, “We +have something to eat in our boat. May we bring it +here and will you have lunch with us?”</p> + +<p>“That would be fine,” he agreed. “You get your +lunch and I will get some milk for us to drink from +my mother.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t disturb her,” protested Virginia. “We +have plenty. And we have a thermos bottle of water, +too.”</p> + +<p>“My mother won’t care a bit. She loves to have +me eat and she wants me to drink lots of milk so that +I will grow big and strong to take care of her. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286'></a>286</span> +haven’t any father, you see.” Without further words +the lad disappeared.</p> + +<p>Taking care to avoid the hornets, the girls brought +their lunch from the boat and were soon joined by the +boy bringing a pitcher of milk and some tin cups.</p> + +<p>“Mother said that she was glad for us to have the +milk and that after lunch I am to bring you up to see +her. Please come,” he begged. “I want my mother +to know both of you so that after you are gone I can +talk to her about you and she will understand. I don’t +often have visitors at my house.” In a burst of confidence, +“I never had any before. Please do come.”</p> + +<p>The pleading face of the boy was very attractive to +Virginia as she looked into it. Its wistfulness persuaded +her. “We will go and see your mother,” she +promised.</p> + +<p>A happy, satisfied smile came into his face. There +was something familiar about that to Virginia. Her +eyes became dreamy.</p> + +<p>“I’m going to kiss you,” Helen suddenly announced.</p> + +<p>He resisted violently but was overpowered and force +prevailed. “What do you want to do that for?” he +objected, unappreciative of the favor so generously +showered upon him by the fair Helen. “It spoils the +fun. Don’t you know any better than to want to kiss +a feller all the time?” he complained.</p> + +<p>The sight of food pacified the infant as the girls +spread the lunch. They all enjoyed the feast in the +leafy bower and consumed a remarkable quantity of +sandwiches, doughnuts, apple pie and milk. “My, +but that was good!” he announced. “Don’t you think +that my house is a good place to eat in? I told my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287'></a>287</span> +mother that if I could eat here all of the time I would +get fat; but she said that I would become a worse little +savage than I am.”</p> + +<p>The boy chattered on as he led them over the meadow +towards the back of a weather-beaten farmhouse. +“Moth-er, Moth-er,” he shouted, as they approached +the back door.</p> + +<p>A middle aged woman of good appearance came to +the door. Trouble had deeply marked her face. +“Won’t you come in?” she urged. “Charles Augustus,” +she reproved her son, “you should bring ladies +to the front of the house, not to the kitchen door.”</p> + +<p>“What’s the difference?” he argued. “You can +get in either way, mother, and this is the nearest.”</p> + +<p>The girls, much amused at the reasoning of Charles +Augustus, followed his mother through a spotless +kitchen and dining room into a very plainly furnished +front room.</p> + +<p>For a time Charles Augustus sat most sedately in a +chair, listening to the conversation of the girls with +his mother; but as the minutes passed; he became restless.</p> + +<p>Recognizing this, his mother suggested that he get +some sweet apples from a tree in front of the house +for their guests.</p> + +<p>Passing out of the open front door, he paused upon +the stoop and began a shrill little tuneless whistle. As +he moved forward, his foot or his crutch slipped. He +lurched forward as if about to plunge headlong down +the flight of steps which led to the yard below.</p> + +<p>The eyes of the women had followed the little fellow, +and as he swung forward they were filled with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288'></a>288</span> +alarm. With half suppressed screams they sprang to +their feet, thrusting out their arms as if they might +catch him.</p> + +<p>By a marvelous effort, the boy recovered his balance. +He resumed his whistling as if nothing had +happened and clumped heavily down the steps, disappearing +from their view.</p> + +<p>With a sigh of relief the girls sank back into their +chairs.</p> + +<p>But the mother remained standing, her eyes yet +upon the doorway through which her son had departed. +Her raised hands dropped to her side and +the look of horror passed from her face, leaving it old +and tired looking.</p> + +<p>Helen arose and, with a word of explanation, disappeared +after Charles Augustus.</p> + +<p>Virginia marked the hands of the woman yet trembling +from her shock. She reached forward and, gently +pulling her down into a chair, pressed her soft +cheek against the wrinkled face.</p> + +<p>The woman fought to control her emotion, but her +face sank into her hands and she began to weep. +After a time her sobs lessened and she became calmer. +She tried to smile through her tears at the girl. “He +is my baby,” she whispered; “my lame, helpless boy.” +A change came over her. She threw back her head and +resistance blazed in her eyes. “He shan’t be lame,” +she cried, shaken by the intensity of her feelings. +Quickly the mood merged into one of utter helplessness. +“If I could get the money,” she groaned, but +almost instantly her former temper returned. “I will +get it,” she resolved. “My boy shall have a fair start +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289'></a>289</span> +in life if I have to crawl on my hands and knees to +get it for him.”</p> + +<p>Virginia endeavored to soothe the almost hysterical +woman. At last the tense nerves relaxed and self-control +returned.</p> + +<p>“You must think me silly and weak,” the woman +told her. “I have been worrying too much. I am +so alone with my thoughts here.”</p> + +<p>“You have Charles Augustus,” suggested Virginia, +as she stroked the bent shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” admitted the woman. “But he goes to bed +at six o’clock and that leaves the long evening in which +to sit and think–and hate,” she blazed. Yet, in an +instant her anger had departed and she went on sadly, +“It is very lonely after Charles Augustus is asleep.”</p> + +<p>“Is he your only child?” the girl asked.</p> + +<p>“No, I have another boy, much older. He is big +and strong and handsome and can take care of himself +and his mother,” she explained with pride. “But he +is young and is working his way through college. His +pay is small and he has had some bad luck, but he is +a joy and happiness in my life.”</p> + +<p>Virginia watched the woman as if fascinated.</p> + +<p>Thought for the comfort of her callers returned +with composure to the mother of Charles Augustus. +“My dear,” she said kindly, “I suppose that you are +in Maine for a vacation. You don’t look like a native. +It’s a shame for me to spoil this beautiful afternoon +for you with my tears and troubles. I am +nervous and overwrought. I had wonderful news yesterday. +News which may make me glad all of the +rest of my days or make me always sad.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290'></a>290</span>“Please tell me about it,” begged Virginia.</p> + +<p>The woman yielded to the girl’s entreaties and explained +that, on the previous day, Charles Augustus +had been taken to a physician in Old Rock because of +some infantile disease. After treating the boy, the +doctor had examined his leg with great interest. +Hunting up a copy of a recent medical journal he had +shown the mother a description of an operation for a +similar case in a New York hospital. It had resulted +in the complete recovery of the use of a crippled limb. +“That boy’s leg could be cured if we could get him on +an operating table before he is too old,” the doctor had +declared with confidence.</p> + +<p>The news of the possibility of her son’s cure had +filled Charles Augustus’s mother with joy; but her inability +to raise the money for such an operation had +almost driven her frantic.</p> + +<p>When she ended, Virginia took hold of her hands. +“Won’t you let me help you?” she begged softly. +“There must be a way to do it and I should like to, +for–” she hesitated a moment and then–“the sake +of Charles Augustus.”</p> + +<p>The woman looked into the girl’s eyes. She found +a sweetness there which appealed to her. “I would +have no right to refuse any help which would rid my +boy of that crutch,” she answered.</p> + +<p>At the door Virginia glanced back. “Charles Augustus’s +crutch would make nice kindling wood,” +she called. “A motorcycle would be much nicer for +him.”</p> + +<p>A hopeful smile crept over the tired face of the +woman. “Life would be very beautiful if my Charles +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291'></a>291</span> +Augustus could run and play and ride a wheel like +other boys,” she said.</p> + +<p>Virginia found her cousin and the lad in the midst +of a great romp. He beamed at Helen, of whom he +had become a great admirer, regardless of her sentimental +tendencies. “We didn’t miss your cousin one +bit, did we?” he announced, and then, “I don’t see +anything in that to laugh at,” when the girls gave vent +to their merriment.</p> + +<p>“We are going now, Charles Augustus,” Helen told +him. “Kiss me good bye.”</p> + +<p>Regardless of his earlier attitude, the lad succumbed +to the allure of a beautiful woman as has man since +the beginning of things.</p> + +<p>“Are you coming again soon?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Virginia answered. She was very serious +and thoughtful as she followed the lad and the gay +and talkative Helen another way to the pond. As she +passed the mail box, she raised her eyes and upon it +read the name, “Curtis.”</p> + +<p>“I knew it,” she whispered. “Joe has his mother’s +eyes.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292'></a>292</span><a id='link_18'></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>AUNT KATE LENDS A HAND</span></h2> + +<p>The next morning Virginia wrote Mrs. Henderson +about the case of Charles Augustus. She wrote also +to Joe Curtis, but in her letter she did not refer to her +meeting with his mother and lame brother or to her +visit to his home. Afterwards she went out and sat +in the hammock. Swinging gently, she gazed with +serious eyes at the landscape; but her thoughts gave +but little heed to the beautiful scenery which lay before +her.</p> + +<p>With motherly interest, Aunt Kate watched her +niece through the kitchen window. Wise in the habits +and customs of young women, she noted unfavorable +portents. “Lands sakes,” she called to Helen, “Virginia +is moping away in the hammock trying to make +herself homesick. Hurry out and cheer the poor child +up. Don’t let her get lonesome and unhappy.”</p> + +<p>Helen obediently entered upon her kindly mission. +Seating herself by her cousin, she put an arm about +her and gave her cheery greeting, “Hello cuticomes. +Of whom are you dreaming?”</p> + +<p>“I am thinking of Charles Augustus.”</p> + +<p>“He is a darling kid. I could eat him for candy.” +The cannibalistic Helen smiled anything but fiercely at +the thought of her tender prey.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293'></a>293</span>“He is so sweet, Helen. That makes it sadder.”</p> + +<p>“Makes what sad?”</p> + +<p>“His lameness. It is dreadful. Think of it, Helen, +never to be able to run and play in comfort.”</p> + +<p>Shadows of unhappiness clouded the usual cheerfulness +of Helen’s face. “It is terrible,” she sighed.</p> + +<p>“All through his life,” the melancholy Virginia +went on, “that crutch must be with him. Even when +he proposes to a girl it will be beside him at her feet.”</p> + +<p>“He could leave it in the hall with his hat.” Helen’s +optimism attempted to thrust aside the enshrouding +gloom.</p> + +<p>“No.” Virginia was determined that no ray of +light should brighten the dark picture she was painting. +“When Charles Augustus proposes, unless the +crutch is near, he can’t get from his knees.”</p> + +<p>Helen conceded the point by a helpless nod. “It +won’t be a bit romantic. It will be pathetic,” she +whispered.</p> + +<p>“Not if the girl loves him truly. Not if he is the +answer to the call of her heart.”</p> + +<p>“He would be the Knight of her thoughts then,–the +Prince of her dreams,” interjected Helen, the +sentimental.</p> + +<p>“With a crutch. He will rest on it even at his +wedding.”</p> + +<p>“When they go away on their wedding trip, the +rice and old shoes will beat against it,” groaned Helen.</p> + +<p>“It will be at his bedside when he dies.” Virginia’s +eyes filled with tears. “Were he a soldier it would be +a badge of honor–a mark of patriotic suffering; but +poor Charles Augustus was always that way and must +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294'></a>294</span> +always remain so unless some one will pay for an operation.” +Virginia buried her tear-drowned eyes in +her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>The sympathetic Helen succumbed to the prevailing +sorrow of the occasion and wept also.</p> + +<p>From her watch tower at the kitchen window, Aunt +Kate espied the sorrowing ones. “My sakes alive, +what has got into those girls?” she exclaimed. “They +must be hankering for a funeral.” Hastening forth, +she planted herself before them and viewed the weepers +with stern eyes. “What is all of this crying +about?” she demanded.</p> + +<p>They told her, abating no jot or tittle of gloom.</p> + +<p>“Was Charles Augustus unhappy yesterday?”</p> + +<p>“No,” they admitted.</p> + +<p>“Well then,” Aunt Kate’s voice rang forcefully, +“what’s the use of crying over happiness? Tears are +to wash sorrows away.” Her final remark pointed her +thoughts in a practical direction. “You two can wash +the surrey as well as for me to pay Tom fifty cents +to do it. You can use some of those tears around +here if you get tired of pumping water.”</p> + +<p>So the grief stricken arrayed themselves in bathing +suits and tugged the surrey into the sun. They +hitched the hose to the force pump and labored diligently +amidst floods of conversation and torrents of +water. They polished and, inadvertently or with +malice aforethought, turned water upon one another +until peals of laughter echoed into the kitchen. A +complacent Aunt Kate gave but little heed to them +until they presented themselves before her, much bedrabbled +but in an exceedingly cheerful frame of mind.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295'></a>295</span>She gazed over her glasses at them and said, “Mercy +sakes, I told you girls to wash the surrey not yourselves. +Get off those wet clothes before you catch +your death of cold.” As they disappeared towards +the stairs she called after them, “You girls were bound +to have a moist morning. Now I hope that you are +satisfied.”</p> + +<p>Days passed which Aunt Kate, in her wisdom, saw +were busy ones. At last an answer came to Virginia’s +letter to Mrs. Henderson. Hennie had a habit of accomplishing +the things which she undertook and her +response was most satisfactory. She had arranged +for the operation upon Charles Augustus at the New +York hospital. A place had been found for Mrs. +Curtis to stay and tickets had been placed at the Old +Rock station for her and her son.</p> + +<p>Sufficient funds had been raised to cover everything +but the operating fee. But as soon as the case came +to the attention of the surgeon, he had suggested that, +as the matter of age was a very important factor in +the ultimate success of his efforts, the operation be +performed at once. He was quite willing to await +the result of Mrs. Henderson’s further exertions for +the payment of his bill.</p> + +<p>A very happy and delighted Virginia cried the good +news aloud to Aunt Kate and Helen. “Right after +lunch we will go and see Mrs. Curtis and Charles +Augustus and tell them the good news,” she planned. +“Isn’t Hennie perfectly splendid?”</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate was making pies. Her eyes twinkled +as she told Virginia, “I don’t gather from this letter +that your friend Mrs. Henderson spent much time +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296'></a>296</span> +weeping over Charles Augustus’s crutch. She is going +to get rid of the old thing. That line or two you +wrote did the lame boy much more good than all the +tears you and Helen wasted around here the other +morning.”</p> + +<p>Virginia bobbed her head in agreement with the +wisdom of her aunt. Then she climbed the stairs to +make ready for her trip, lifting a sweet little voice in +song.</p> + +<p>As Aunt Kate heard her, she smiled gently; but her +face grew suddenly stern as she muttered, “Until I +settle brother Obadiah’s hash, I’d better keep an umbrella +and a mackintosh handy if I don’t want to get +wet”; after which she dusted the flour from her hands +with great vigor.</p> + +<p>The two girls gave little time to their lunch that +noon, and soon afterwards started up the pond in a +canoe. Helen was filled with energy. She dug her +paddle into the water and pulled mightily.</p> + +<p>“Stop, Helen, we are turning around,” protested +Virginia.</p> + +<p>“Paddle your share, ‘V.’,” retorted Helen with an +air of injury. “Remember, you are not a passenger.”</p> + +<p>By vigorously wielding her paddle, Virginia managed +to hold the canoe on its course. “Please don’t +make me work so hard, Helen,” she objected. “We +want to hurry and get there.”</p> + +<p>“We are doing that splendidly, ‘V.’ We can’t go +very fast if you want to sit and dream. Paddle, dear +heart–work your way.”</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i6'></a><img src='images/illus4.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +“‘<span class='sc'>You are my sweetheart,’ the brazen Helen told him</span>” +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297'></a>297</span>So it came to pass that Virginia paddled to keep +up with Helen and that young woman paddled to make +her cousin work, and thus the light canoe was driven +over the water with speed and they soon reached the +end of their voyage.</p> + +<p>Charles Augustus espied their approach afar off +and hobbled down the meadow path to meet them with +joyous outcry. “Hello, you came to see me, didn’t +you?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. You are my sweetheart,” the brazen +Helen told him.</p> + +<p>“My!” he sighed, shaking his head after the manner +of an elderly philosopher. “It’s been a long time +since I saw you. I expected you every day. Mother +said that she guessed you were busy people.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Curtis came to the door at the sound of voices. +Her face lighted when she recognized them. “Charles +has been watching for you each day,” she told them. +“I tried to persuade him that you might have interests +besides visiting small boys; but I wasn’t very +successful.”</p> + +<p>Charles Augustus balked in the pathway, pulling at +the hand of Helen. “Don’t let’s go in. It’s much +nicer out here. Let’s play as we did the other day.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Curtis nodded understandingly when Helen +bowed to her admirer’s wishes, and led Virginia into +the house. “It is nice of you to come and see me +again so soon,” she told the girl when they were +seated in the front room; “especially after the way +I must have tired you with my troubles and drowned +you with my tears.” Her forced gaiety could not deceive +one to whom she had opened her heart. The +marks of trouble and anxiety showed too plainly in +her face.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298'></a>298</span>Virginia saw the opportunity to transmit the good +tidings she had brought. Its very bigness embarrassed +her. “I have some good news for you,” she +cried, and abruptly thrust the letter towards the older +woman, her eyes big and tender with the joy of her +message. “There!” she stammered. “Read–read +that, please.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Curtis took the letter from Mrs. Henderson +and began to peruse it.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Virginia that she would never finish.</p> + +<p>At last Mrs. Curtis turned towards the girl. Her +face was pale and the stress of her emotion weakened +her. “I can’t thank you,” she whispered in a queer +strained voice. Suddenly her strength swept back to +her. Under the force of the joy which enveloped her +she spoke in a dead monotone, staring ahead of her +with unseeing eyes. “My Charles will walk and play +like other boys. In a few weeks–perhaps before +Thanksgiving Day–he can throw aside his crutch.”</p> + +<p>Virginia, agitated by the intenseness of the other’s +feelings, watched in silence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Curtis had forgotten her visitor now. She +was thinking aloud. “What a happy day it will be +for Joe and Charles and me,” she murmured,–“the +happiest since my husband died.”</p> + +<p>The gladness of the other thrilled the girl.</p> + +<p>Like a flash there came a change in Mrs. Curtis’s +mood. Her joy came into conflict with a defiant +pride. Her face became cold and hard. “It’s charity,” +she wailed, “just plain charity. Am I a beggar +now?”</p> + +<p>She turned furiously upon Virginia, transformed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299'></a>299</span> +by passion, “If my husband had lived–if I, a weak +woman, had been given a fair chance to make an +honest living in this land of the free,” she sneered, “I +too would ride in my automobile in silks and diamonds +and extend charity to the poor. If there were justice +among men I would not be in a position where people +could offer me charity.”</p> + +<p>A bewildered Virginia listened timidly as the woman, +almost beside herself, went on, “There is no justice–there +is no right,” Her eyes seemed ablaze to the +startled girl. She thrust her arms above her head. +“The wicked prosper and the good are ruined. It’s +all wrong–wickedly wrong,” she screamed and, rushing +into an adjoining room, cast herself across the +bed, sobbing convulsively.</p> + +<p>Amazed at the effect of Hennie’s letter, Virginia was +tempted to run away. She hesitated, however. +Through the doorway she could see the shaking form +of Joe’s mother upon the bed. Quickly the passion +died out of the sobs of the weeping woman and in its +place came a note of pathetic helplessness which +clutched at the girl’s heart and seemed to call her.</p> + +<p>In a moment Virginia was at the side of the bed. +Leaning over, she took one of the toil worn hands into +her own. There came an answering pressure and the +girl seated herself by the bed-side holding the knotted +fingers in her own. The sobs lessened, the quivering +form became calmer, and at length Mrs. Curtis sat +up and raised wet eyes to those of her visitor. “You +must think me lacking in appreciation of the generosity +of your friends,” she choked, still shaken by the +reflex of her sobs. “It’s not true, though. That was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300'></a>300</span> +a display of my silly pride. It’s about all that I have +left of the happiest days of my life. Forget my words, +dear, and forgive me. From the bottom of my heart, +I thank you for what you have done for my boy and +me. To have him walk without a crutch, on my +hands and knees I’d scrub the most crowded street in +the world. There is no humiliation too great for me +to undergo for him. I would glory in it.” In the +glow of mother love her face softened and became +beautiful. Now she seemed to grasp the full significance +of the news and to be filled with unrest as if +afraid that the opportunity might escape. “When +can we go?” she worried–“tomorrow?”</p> + +<p>“Today, if you wish,” Virginia explained.</p> + +<p>Her woes cast aside and filled with excitement, Mrs. +Curtis dried her tears and returned to the other room +with the girl. Through the window Charles Augustus +could be seen hobbling about in a game with the active +Helen. His mother watched his awkward movements +intently for a moment. “In a few months he +will be running about without the crutch,” she whispered +and, swinging about, she seized Virginia by her +shoulders, looked deep into her eyes as she murmured +gently, “May God bless you and yours for what you +are doing for me and mine, and may happiness be +yours and theirs until the end of time.”</p> + +<p>Charles Augustus displayed greater interest in the +journey he was about to take than in the fact that he +might no longer need his crutch. As he passed through +the meadow with the girls he explained his position. +“It’s great fun to travel on the cars. I don’t care +a bit where I go, so it’s some place else.” Possible +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301'></a>301</span> +objections arising from the change struck him. +“When I come back, will you come and see me, even +if I don’t have a crutch?” he asked Helen.</p> + +<p>The enchantress caught him in her arms and answered +him with a kiss.</p> + +<p>Regardless of this attention, dissatisfaction crept +into his face. “If I don’t have my crutch, I will +catch you all of the time. There’ll be no fun in playing +with a girl who always has to be ‘it.’”</p> + +<p>His fears did not impress Helen the agile. “When +you are able to play without your crutch,” she promised +him, “I shall fly with delight.”</p> + +<p>“Like an aeroplane?” inquired Charles Augustus +with great seriousness.</p> + +<p>They left him standing upon the shore. As they +paddled away he was leaning on his crutch, watching +something. Suddenly he made a hopping dart and +dropped to the ground. Instantly he was up again, +shouting triumphantly, “Look–look at the old bullfrog +I caught.” He held the slimy creature aloft, by +one of its legs, for the admiration of the girls and +asked, “Do you think that my mother will let me +take him to New York with me?”</p> + +<p>“Ask her,” suggested the diplomatic Helen.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the happy outcome of her efforts +to help Charles Augustus, Virginia was very silent +and preoccupied that evening.</p> + +<p>“That child is homesick,” Aunt Kate thought, as she +kissed her good night and watched her slowly ascend +the stairs, candlestick in hand.</p> + +<p>As Virginia undressed, she was very thoughtful. +She went over to the dresser and, holding Mrs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302'></a>302</span> +Henderson’s letter close to the candle’s flame, re-read it. +There was a wistful, helpless look in her face when +she was ready to climb into bed. “Oh, Daddy, +Daddy,” she whispered sadly, “please believe as +mother did, so that I can come back home.” An hour +afterwards she fell asleep upon a pillow moistened +with tears.</p> + +<p>The two girls were at the station in the morning to +say good bye to Charles Augustus and his mother as +they departed for New York.</p> + +<p>Before the train left Charles Augustus complained +to Helen, “Mother wouldn’t let me take my frog to +New York.”</p> + +<p>“That is too bad,” commiserated the deceitful +Helen.</p> + +<p>“Mother said that the frog wouldn’t care for New +York. He might get lonesome there.”</p> + +<p>Helen gravely considered the problem. “Your +mother is right, Charles. A frog would find few +friends and little amusement in New York.”</p> + +<p>Virginia bade Mrs. Curtis good bye at the car steps. +“You will write and tell us about everything, won’t +you?” she begged.</p> + +<p>The older woman embraced her. “Good bye,” she +murmured. “Words can’t tell what I would say to +you, dear. Of course I will write.”</p> + +<p>Again the days passed and the best of news came +from New York. The operation was performed and +the twisted muscles worked into place. The surgeon +was confident of the success of his efforts and felt +sure that, at the worst, Charles Augustus would only +have a slight limp which would disappear with age.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303'></a>303</span>Yet Virginia was not happy. Very sweet she was +and thoughtful of others; but she was serious and +often, too, a look of sadness rested on her face.</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate watched her with the vigilant eye of a +mother in those days. One afternoon she discovered +her niece alone in the hammock, viewing the pond with +a melancholy countenance. “Land sakes, that child +is moping again,” she groaned. Leaving her work, +she joined the girl and commanded, “Tell me your +thoughts, Virginia?”</p> + +<p>For the moment the girl was startled. “I was +thinking about South Ridgefield,” she confessed timidly.</p> + +<p>“I knew it,” Aunt Kate exclaimed, apparently much +puffed up by her mind-reading ability. “You are +trying to see how unhappy you can make yourself and +every one else who looks at you.”</p> + +<p>Virginia was mute before this accusation.</p> + +<p>“Were you thinking of your father?” asked Aunt +Kate, proceeding with her examination of the witness.</p> + +<p>The girl nodded sadly.</p> + +<p>“Why do you think of him?” Aunt Kate seemed +shocked at the depraved taste of Obadiah’s daughter.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Aunt Kate, I do wish that he would pay for +Charles Augustus’s operation. I would feel as if +there might be some chance of my going home some +day.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry that you don’t care for the company of +Helen and me, Virginia.”</p> + +<p>The girl gave her aunt a pleading look. “You +know what I mean. I love you and Helen dearly.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304'></a>304</span>The older woman softened, patting her niece upon +the cheek; but she stuck to the business at hand. +“That water business would cost your father a lot +of money, wouldn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“I think so,” Virginia agreed.</p> + +<p>“Hum,” muttered Aunt Kate. “We’d better give +Obadiah a light dose to begin on.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand you, Aunt Kate,” said the girl.</p> + +<p>“No matter,” responded the older woman. “What +I want to know is, have you asked your father to pay +for the operation on that lame boy?”</p> + +<p>“No, he knows nothing about it,” admitted Virginia. +“Aunt Kate, I would be afraid to ask him +after the way he talked to me.”</p> + +<p>“Afraid!” Aunt Kate was filled with astonishment. +“Afraid of Obadiah? My stars and garters! +You must begin some place! How on earth do you +expect him to give to something he never heard of? +Don’t you know child, that to get a Dale to do anything +which costs money you must ask them not once, +but thrice. Seventy times seven is about right for +Obadiah.”</p> + +<p>“But, Aunt Kate, after what my father said, I +couldn’t ask him to help pay Charles Augustus’s +bill.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” demanded Aunt Kate.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know why. I am sure, though, that I +couldn’t.”</p> + +<p>“I know why,” declared Aunt Kate. “It is obstinacy–plain +Dale obstinacy sticking out of you.”</p> + +<p>Virginia was silent for a moment, possibly reviewing +her personal characteristics as illuminated by her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305'></a>305</span> +aunt. Then she asked, “You think that I should ask +him?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, give brother Obadiah a chance.”</p> + +<p>“But, Aunt Kate, he will refuse.”</p> + +<p>“We will write him then that you are going to stay +with me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” groaned Virginia, great tears springing into +her eyes opened wide with alarm. “Then I could +never go home as long as I live. I’d never see Daddy +or Serena or even Ike again.”</p> + +<p>“Fiddlesticks, child, don’t be a weakling.” Her +eyes twinkled. “This is no tragedy. It is only a +difference of opinion, with brother Obadiah, as usual, +wrong.”</p> + +<p>“It would be a tragedy if I could never go and +see my father.” Virginia shook her head sorrowfully. +“I have been thinking about it lots lately, and +sometimes I wonder if my mother would want me +to stay away from home much longer.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate put her arm about the girl. “Won’t +you trust to the judgment of your old aunt, who knew +your mother before you? I don’t want your efforts +to help other people to be turned into a punishment.”</p> + +<p>“I have thought of that, too.” Virginia was very +solemn as she spoke. “Perhaps I went about it the +wrong way. If I had done things differently perhaps +I wouldn’t have made Daddy angry.”</p> + +<p>“You must not allow yourself to worry, dear. We +will give your father a chance to help Charles Augustus. +If he doesn’t do it, something else will come up +and we will keep on giving him the opportunity. In +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306'></a>306</span> +the end everything will work out for the best, I am +sure.”</p> + +<p>So that afternoon Virginia wrote to her father and +asked him to contribute towards the expense of the +operation upon Charles Augustus. It was a cheery +letter and in no word of it could one guess the tears +and longings between the lines.</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s answer, as befitted a good business man, +was prompt. While he admitted the sadness of the +case he could see no reason why he should be asked +to pay for an operation upon a boy of whom he knew +nothing. He enclosed a small check and concluded +his letter with directions that his daughter return home +at once.</p> + +<p>“Just as I expected,” announced Aunt Kate, when +Virginia, the bewildered subject of conflicting emotions, +brought it to her. “Obadiah is wild to have +you home. That is our strength. Don’t you surrender +to him, Virginia. I wouldn’t be a slave to any +man and certainly not to brother Obadiah. I always +made him step about, I can promise you. And if you +follow my advice you can, too.”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s face was wistful. “I don’t want to make +Daddy step about, Aunt Kate.”</p> + +<p>“You started this revolution, Virginia, and you +must see it through. Now, I am in it. The only +slave in that big house in South Ridgefield is going to +be Obadiah. My dander is up, child, and I am going +to make him sweat. I must finish the job of training +which I started years ago. He never disobeyed me +then and he had better not try it now.” Her eyes +flashed and her manner was extremely menacing. “In +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307'></a>307</span> +the meantime,” she stormed, “he has brought you into +the world, which complicates matters but does not relieve +me of my responsibilities.”</p> + +<p>The second letter to Obadiah was in the hand of +Virginia but it breathed the words and spirit of his +sister Kate. It was an independent document. Every +line of it bristled with the spirit of ’76. It regretted +his decision not to help in the case of Charles +Augustus and also that Virginia had not completed +her visit so that she could return to South Ridgefield. +In vague terms it referred to a home with her aunt, +and discussed a career, as well as certain positions for +teachers available in and about Old Rock.</p> + +<p>Virginia copied the letter and signed her name. +Then she re-read with increasing alarm the ultimatum +which she had approved. Had she been alone it +would have been instantly destroyed; but under the +stern eye of her aunt she was helpless. Obediently +she addressed the envelope and, shaking way down in +her very boots, she watched her aunt fold, seal and +bear away for personal mailing the bolt which was to +be cast at her father’s head.</p> + +<p>At the door Aunt Kate turned and, with the greatest +assurance, told the fear-shaken girl, “Mark my words! +This letter will make brother Obadiah sit up and take +notice.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308'></a>308</span><a id='link_19'></a>CHAPTER XIX<br /><span class='h2fs'>OBADIAH “COMES TO”</span></h2> + +<p>As it is written that a prophet is not without honor +save in his own country and in his own house, it is +deemed just that such matters as have to do with the +coming to pass of Aunt Kate’s prediction concerning +her brother Obadiah should be duly set forth herein +that they may be not suppressed through local jealousy.</p> + +<p>Obadiah received Virginia’s letter late one afternoon +as he was about to return home. He did not immediately +read it, but carried it with him that he might +enjoy it in the greater seclusion of his own domicile. +What took place thereafter is best described in the +words of a confidential communication from Serena +to Ike. “Dat ole man is er ra’in’ an’ er ta’in’ ’roun’ +in dyar jes lak sumpin done stung ’im. It’s de badness +er wo’kin’ out. De hot fiah o’ to’ment singe ’im an’ +de cont’ary spi’it cry aloud fo’ he’p lak er lamb afo’ +er ragin’ lion in de wilde’ness.”</p> + +<p>Ike received these tidings concerning the spiritual +pass of his employer with an interest that lacked the +kindly sympathy which should be extended to a brother +struggling with the forces of evil. He made answer +in a casual manner, “Mr. Devil done run dat ole man +to ea’th er long time ergo. He jes er settin’ back, +lafin sof’ to hisse’f, er watchin’ de houn’s er scratchin’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309'></a>309</span> +an’ er clawin’. He gwine dig ’im out presently. Ah +’spects dat de ’pointed hour is at han’.”</p> + +<p>At dinner Obadiah was in a surly mood which he +vented upon Serena by making cutting criticisms concerning +the food and service. She received his comments +in silence, storing them up until a more propitious +hour of reckoning. Meanwhile she solaced +herself by certain outbursts at Ike.</p> + +<p>Unconscious of impending disaster, the chauffeur +had seated himself adjacent to the range. Here he +rested from the labors of the day, having in view a +tempting repast of chicken and sweet potatoes. He +endeavored by agreeable conversation, to make smooth, +or grease if you wish, its pathway to his stomach. +“Miss Sereny, yo’all is er movin’ mighty peart dis +evenin’,” he remarked in tuneful tones, as the old +negress hastily re-entered the kitchen, severely wounded +by a barbed dart of Obadiah’s temper.</p> + +<p>She whirled upon him and snapped, “Shet up dat +big mouf. Yer ’minds me o’ er ole alligator er settin’ +thar workin’ yer jaws an’ ain’ say nothin’.”</p> + +<p>A glance at Serena’s face showed Ike that storm signals +were unmistakably flying. He thought to assuage +the tempest by the tender of assistance. “Caint +ah he’p you, Miss Sereny? Ah ’spects dat yo’all is +plum ti’ed er wo’kin’ in dis yere hot kitchen.”</p> + +<p>She fixed him with smoldering eyes. “He’p me, +he’p me,” she repeated indignantly. “De onlies way +er lazy nocount lummox lak yo’all kin he’p me is by +er movin’ yer triflin’ carcass out o’ ma kitchen stid o’ +layin’ ’round ma stove lak er houn’ dawg. Lif youse’f +off dat chair, boy.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310'></a>310</span>Ike, the indirect victim of Virginia’s letter, removed +himself in haste from his comfortable corner and retired +to the cool steps of the back stoop, to allow the +domestic cyclone to blow itself out before attempting +again to procure his evening’s nourishment.</p> + +<p>Obadiah had an uncomfortable night. A remembrance +of the lance like thrusts of Aunt Kate, which, +in the name of his daughter, had so cruelly lacerated +him in spite of his armor of egotism, drove sleep away. +Tossing upon a bed of discomfort, he heard the clocks +toll out each passing hour until, weary and tired eyed, +he left his bed, ill prepared to face the burdens and +perplexities of the new day.</p> + +<p>At breakfast, Serena served Obadiah efficiently; but +her attitude was hostile. The wounds of the proceeding +night were yet raw. When he had eaten, she faced +him sternly and demanded, “When is yo’all ’spectin’ +Miss Virginy is er gwine come home?”</p> + +<p>“One of these days,” he answered with indifference.</p> + +<p>She was not to be thus summarily dismissed. “Dat +day bettah be er comin’ mighty quick,” she threatened. +“Ah is er gittin ti’ed er waitin’ ’roun’ yere. Presen’ly, +ah gwine pack ma duds an’ go whar she at.”</p> + +<p>“You attend to your own business,” he snarled petulantly.</p> + +<p>His irritation was an elixir of strength to her. +Hands on hips she gazed defiantly at him. “Ma business +is whar Miss Virginy is. Ah ain’ promise Miss +Elinor dat ah tek care o’ yo’all. Ah gives ma word +to watch dat chil’. Ef you is er countin’ on me er +stayin’ in dis yere house yo’all bettah git dat gal back +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311'></a>311</span> +quick. Ah ain’ got no time fo’ no man so se’fish dat ’is +own kin folk done turn again ’im.”</p> + +<p>Before the righteous indignation of his own servant +Obadiah fled from his dining room, speechless +with indignation.</p> + +<p>He entered his office at nine o’clock. The sound of +Mr. Jones’s typewriter should have greeted him and +he should have perceived Kelly recording profits in the +great ledgers. This morning their seats were vacant. +There was a lonesomeness about the place distasteful +to the manufacturer. His sleepless night and the altercation +with Serena had caused him to develop a fit +of indigestion which was not allayed by the lack of +punctuality on the part of his heretofore punctual subordinates.</p> + +<p>Footsteps sounded in the hallway, also happy laughter. +Tardy employees approached their work joyously, +not stealthily, as is the normal custom of such +miscreants. No cheery smile of cordial welcome mantled +Obadiah’s face. No well turned quip, to amuse +his minions in their hours of toil, was upon his lip. +He sternly awaited the coming of these frivolous and +delinquent workers.</p> + +<p>As Mr. Jones and Kelly entered, there were glad +smiles upon their faces. There was something different +about the stenographer. There was a marked outward +change in him. His clear complexion proclaimed +good health. He carried himself as if in complete +control of his muscles. In place of awkwardness had +come a distinct grace of carriage.</p> + +<p>There were more subtle changes in Mr. Jones, also. +A clearness of eye, a steadiness of gaze and a quiet +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312'></a>312</span> +self-confidence were a novelty to his friends of other +days.</p> + +<p>But, strangest of all, the private secretary’s old time +beauty was marred by a discoloration of the right +eye, poorly disguised with powder, by several small +cuts upon his face and by certain bandages on his +hands.</p> + +<p>Obadiah gave Mr. Jones a sweeping glance which +failed to grasp details essential to a clear understanding +of a subordinate. “What do you mean, loafing +in here at noon?” he demanded most inaccurately, +“I pay you to get here at nine o’clock. What does +this mean?” The cruel glance of Obadiah’s eye +pierced the optic of Mr. Jones as if to plumb the depths +of his soul and wrest his innermost secrets forth to +be exposed, naked and ashamed, in the pitiless light of +publicity.</p> + +<p>The mill owner’s efforts to read the stenographer’s +mind through the eye were futile. Had he succeeded, +the result of his research would have shocked him. +Believing himself to be peeping into the eyes of a +turtle dove, he would have become aware that he +might, with greater safety, have attempted to stare +down the baleful glare of a Bengal tiger.</p> + +<p>Lacking in the ability to read the human mind, +Obadiah could not know that Fate, seeking a recipient +for her favor, had plucked a peaceful soul from in +front of a typewriter and made it fierce.</p> + +<p>Had the manufacturer been able to view Mr. Jones’s +mind as the scenes of a movie, he would have beheld +thrilling events taking place upon the previous evening. +He would have observed his stenographer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313'></a>313</span> +simply arrayed in trunks, socks and shoes, with eight +ounce gloves laced upon his hands, give battle for the +feather-weight championship of the Fifth ward, before +a multitude of wildly excited male citizens.</p> + +<p>Had Obadiah by similar means reviewed the mind of +Kelly, he would have watched the battle as through +the eyes of a second. He would have seen, beneath +the electric lights, the muscles of the little fighting men +play, panther like, under the healthy pink of their +skins. If one drop of red blood remained in his +anæmic old body, the mill owner would have thrilled +as Mr. Jones, his arms playing smoothly as well oiled +connecting rods, treading upon his toes softly as a +cat, advanced, retreated and side stepped, ever warily +studying the face of his opponent. He would have +perceived that his stenographer ducked and dodged +with incredible swiftness, his gloved hands playing +always to feign, to ward and to deliver blows which +resounded with the thud of leather against quivering +flesh. Obadiah’s eyes would have recognized the rich +red of blood smearing the marble of human flesh, and +he would have tingled at the excitement of the spectators +when, rising from their seats, they tumultuously +applauded the giver of a lucky blow.</p> + +<p>Through five gruelling rounds of fighting the manufacturer +would have followed the fortunes of his private +secretary until that final moment when, panting +and heaving, he stood over the prone form of his adversary, +counting the motions of the referee’s hands, +whose voice could not be heard above the thunderous +applause which acclaimed him victor.</p> + +<p>But no picture of this battle could have told +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314'></a>314</span> +Obadiah that in the moment of triumph the spirit of Mr. +Jones was reborn; that from the building, into the portals +of which he had been almost dragged by Kelly, +he had come forth a red-blooded fighting man whose +gore had mixed with that of his antagonist.</p> + +<p>Ignorant of these happenings, Obadiah angrily +awaited an answer from his unpunctual servants.</p> + +<p>The smile had faded from the face of Mr. Jones at +Obadiah’s rough greeting. He failed to behave in accord +with the best usages among private secretaries. +Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath, thereby +greatly straining a gusset only recently let into the back +of his vest. Suddenly he shoved his head forward. +As his face advanced, it changed into an ugly countenance +with a nasty eye, such an one as would make +its recipient ill at ease. This was Mr. Jones’s fighting +face, developed with care under the kindly advice of +Kelly. Sporting characters considered it a valuable +asset.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones’s expression startled Obadiah. For +years, when at a loss for words or thoughts, he had +studied the lamb like face of his stenographer. That +timid look was gone now, replaced by a countenance +which had borrowed coldness from the glance of a +rattlesnake and combined it with a grizzly bear’s cruelty +of aspect. To Obadiah it spoke of arson, of +the assassination of capitalists, of the proletariat running +mad. He quailed before it.</p> + +<p>“Where do you get that noon stuff?” snarled Mr. +Jones.</p> + +<p>Obadiah turned towards the clock as if to place the +blame for any misstatements of time upon that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315'></a>315</span> +instrument. The hands pointed to five minutes past nine +thereby also indicating their owner to be a liar.</p> + +<p>Again Mr. Jones spoke. Roughness replaced refinement.</p> + +<p>“For five years I have worked overtime for you, +two or three afternoons a week, sometimes fifteen +minutes, sometimes an hour. I also put in many an +evening and some Sundays for you. I never received +a word of thanks for it. Now, because I am delayed +by important business and come in five minutes late, +you put up a squeal as if I’d stepped on your sore corn. +Say, what kind of a cheap skate are you?” the stenographer +roared in conclusion.</p> + +<p>Obadiah ignored the question in haughty but uneasy +silence.</p> + +<p>“You think so much of your ugly old self that you +can’t think of anything else. But believe me, everybody +else has got your number and they’re wasting no +time loving you. Say,” growled Mr. Jones so roughly +that Obadiah jumped, “have you a friend in the +world?”</p> + +<p>For an instant it appeared that the manufacturer +contemplated a hurried retreat from his own office, but +the pugnacious stenographer barred the way.</p> + +<p>“You hain’t,” announced Mr. Jones ungrammatically +but emphatically, producing a gigantic roll of +currency from his pocket. It was his share of the +fight receipts, and, although the denominations averaged +low, it bulked large to the surprised eyes of +Obadiah. Mr. Jones shook the money in the face +of his employer. “See that?” he inquired, as if suspecting +that his employer suffered from failing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316'></a>316</span> +eyesight. “I don’t care to hold it too near to you or you +might try to pinch it.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah viewed the roll of bills with a repugnance +astounding in him.</p> + +<p>“I had to work to get that money, last night,” Mr. +Jones continued. “It wasn’t the easy kind of money +that you pull down. But that isn’t the point. Kelly +and I have bought a gymnasium up the street. We intended +to treat you fair–to give you full notice so +that you could fill our places before we left. But as +you’ve had to be a little meaner than usual this morning, +I think we’ll bid you good-bye right now. How +about it, Kelly?”</p> + +<p>“I say we will,” agreed that successful trainer with +emphasis, and he and the fighter abruptly left the room.</p> + +<p>Obadiah closed the door of the office with a resounding +slam behind his departing staff and, taking +a bunch of unopened letters from Mr. Jones’s former +place of labor, he bore them into his own lair. As he +sank down behind his desk he thumbed them over and, +selecting one, opened and read the paper it contained. +It was a formal order from the State Board of Health +forbidding the further discharge of waste from the +dye house at his mill into the Lame Moose River. As +the manufacturer grasped the import of the document, +his face purpled with rage and the paper shook in his +hands. Finally he petulantly cast it aside and groaned +aloud at a twinge of indigestion. Dropping back in +his chair he took Virginia’s letter from his pocket and +re-read it. “I’ve had bad luck ever since she left,” +he growled. “Things don’t break right. I can’t keep +my mind on my business. She must come home.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317'></a>317</span> +Unhooking his telephone, he asked Hezekiah Wilkins +to come to him.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah responded, smiling pleasantly. “Good +morning,” he exclaimed. “What has happened to the +boys? Not sick, I hope.”</p> + +<p>“I fired them,” Obadiah rapped. “They were too +fresh around here and I let them go.” His anger and +resentment displayed itself. “They are no good. I +wouldn’t give them recommendations as dog catchers.”</p> + +<p>“Hump,” ejaculated Hezekiah. “Both at once? +It leaves you short handed.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah invited the attention of his attorney to +business by handing him the order of the Board of +Health.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah read the document with care and, returning +it to the manufacturer, gazed at the ceiling reflectively.</p> + +<p>“Well, what do you think of it?” Obadiah’s manner +was short.</p> + +<p>“I have been expecting it,” the lawyer replied with +calmness. “What else could you expect? You are +ruining the water that people have to drink.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t be forced. They won’t drive me,” Obadiah +maintained with his usual obstinacy.</p> + +<p>“They’ll drive you into court fast enough, if you +don’t obey that order,” Hezekiah warned him with a +chuckle.</p> + +<p>“That’s just where I want to be. It’s up to you +to develop a plan to flim-flam that bunch of fool doctors. +You’re losing your ‘pep’ or you’d have worked +out something before this,” sneered Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I am losing my ‘pep,’” Hezekiah +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318'></a>318</span> +mimicked, and his eyes flashed as he went on. “I have +enough mental alertness left to advise you not to bite +off your nose to spite your face.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah flushed angrily but controlled his temper. +“Listen,” he snarled, “while I tell you what I pay +you to tell me. The Lame Moose is a navigable +stream, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah nodded, his eyes dancing with amusement.</p> + +<p>Obadiah frowned at his attorney and continued, +“We’ll raise a federal question and get the case into +the U. S. Courts and with dilatory pleas, continuances +and appeals it will take years before a final decision is +handed down. How’s that?”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah laughed. “As your legal adviser, I can’t +approve it. The waste from the dye-house at your +mill is spoiling the water that some thousands of people +have to drink. There is a simple remedy open to +you but they have none. Common justice demands +that you consider the rights of these beings.” The attorney +turned loose his oratorical voice. “Common +justice demands it, sir.”</p> + +<p>The manufacturer flushed and shifted uneasily. +Quarrelsome as he was, he could not afford a break +with this man.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah relapsed into a careful study of the metal +cornice over the way.</p> + +<p>“Think it over. Think about it,” snapped Obadiah +after a moment’s silence. “You may be able to catch +my point of view. I have another subject which I +want to discuss with you–an embarrassing personal +matter.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah gave him a covert glance but immediately +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319'></a>319</span> +resumed inspection of the metal work across the street.</p> + +<p>“It’s about my daughter,” continued Obadiah. “I +have a letter from her which I wish you to read.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah perused Virginia’s letter with great care +and attention. “Did she write that?” he asked +abruptly, as he returned the communication.</p> + +<p>“It’s in my daughter’s handwriting but I suspect +that my sister Kate may have had a hand in it. Virginia +never wrote such a letter to me before. It is an +unusual letter.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is an unusual letter,” Hezekiah agreed. +There was merriment in his eyes but otherwise he +presented the serious aspect befitting a counsellor in +the presence of a client. “It is an implied threat to +sever domestic relations. Such counsel as I give +should have in contemplation the facts which led up +to this–ahem–veiled ultimatum.”</p> + +<p>This reasonable request embarrassed Obadiah +greatly; but after some hesitation he explained the circumstances +under which Virginia had left home as the +act of a defiant, headstrong girl.</p> + +<p>“Dear me, an exceedingly unfortunate matter,” exclaimed +Hezekiah, as if astonished at the revelation. +Therein his manner partook of deceit, as Hennie had +favored him so often with the details of the matter, +gathered from Virginia herself and more completely, +through Carrie, from Serena, that he knew them by +heart. The lawyer went on, “The adjustment of such +family differences requires tact–the utmost tact and +diplomacy.”</p> + +<p>The happenings of the morning had sorely inflamed +Obadiah’s indigestion. As he repeated his woes to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320'></a>320</span> +the attorney, remembrances of the lonely hours he +had spent since the girl’s departure came to him and +he believed himself a sadly ill-used man. Miserable +in body and spirit, he flamed into tempestuous rebellion +at the mild measures proposed by his legal adviser.</p> + +<p>“Tact and diplomacy the devil!!” he exploded. +“I’ll use force, if necessary. She is my daughter, +isn’t she?”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah gravely conceded Obadiah’s claim of +paternity.</p> + +<p>“The law gives me some control of her?”</p> + +<p>“As an unmarried woman, you have certain rights +over her,” Hezekiah admitted.</p> + +<p>“Well then, I want her back,” bellowed Obadiah, the +notes of his voice getting higher as the intensity of his +feeling increased. “You go and get her and make +her come home.”</p> + +<p>“Did you have in mind legal proceedings to compel +your daughter to return under your roof?” inquired +Hezekiah in a suave manner, in marked contrast +to the bluster of his employer.</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t make any difference how you do it. +Kidnap her for all I care. What I want is to get her +back,” the mill owner stormed.</p> + +<p>“Has it occurred to you, that in such matters care +must be taken to avoid a serious rupture of those affectionate +relations which, after all, are the basis of +the home and the natural tie between a father and +daughter?” Hezekiah suggested quietly.</p> + +<p>Obadiah’s face was swollen with passion, his obstinacy +written deep in it. “She must come home,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321'></a>321</span> +he proclaimed. “I want her. I’m tired of living +alone. You go and make her come back.”</p> + +<p>The smooth shaven countenance of the lawyer hardened. +His usual good-humored expression melted into +one of resolution as he said with great calmness, “I +have thought, sometimes, Obadiah, that you fail to +display a clear conception of an attorney’s duties.”</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“You don’t appreciate the scope of my employment.”</p> + +<p>“What has that got to do with my daughter?”</p> + +<p>“It has this. I do not conceive it my duty to force +your daughter to return to your home against her +wishes.”</p> + +<p>“You refuse to obey my instructions?” Obadiah +almost screamed, throwing discretion to the winds +in the tumult of his wrath.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I refuse,” answered the lawyer, leaping to +his feet and talking down at his employer. “I refuse,” +he repeated in a voice in which passion found +no place, “as I have always refused when you would +have seduced me into doing an unjust act. There are +questions upon which fair minds may differ. Men of +honor may argue for the side in which they believe or +have been retained. From divers contentions, strongly +maintained, comes the bright star of right, shining +clear, in its purity, above the storm clouds of litigation. +But, Your Hon–” Hezekiah paused and began +anew–“But, sir, there are fundamental questions +involving moral law upon which right minded +men must agree.”</p> + +<p>“What’s this tirade got to do with me?” Obadiah +demanded.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322'></a>322</span>Hezekiah silenced the mill owner with a gesture of +great dignity. “Never interrupt counsel in the midst +of argument,” he protested, absently. “Undoubtedly +you will be afforded ample time to present your own +views.” He paused, blinking nervously. The interruption +had disturbed his train of thought, but in a +moment he continued. “At stated periods, prudent +merchants take trial balances and invoices that they +may know the condition of their business. It is likewise +well for men at times to take account of their +relations with their associates. It is my purpose to +do that now, Obadiah Dale.” In Hezekiah’s eyes was +a far away look now. “It’s nearly thirty years since +I entered your employ–thirty years, Obadiah, the +cream of my life. Its period of highest power I have +given to you. My life must be judged by my accomplishments +for you. You and I alone know what part +my judgment has had in the development of your +great business. As a young man, I liked you, Obadiah. +I admired your energy and perseverance and that combativeness +which made you give battle in open competition +for new fields of commercial activity. Success +came to you in a measure permitted to but few, +and the tremendous power of wealth accompanied it. +Thoughts come to me of your wife, that fair rose of +the Southland, who not only brought sunshine into +your own house but spread it among all those who +were privileged to know her. In her you were a twice +blessed man. A daughter was born to you, the image +of her mother, and so were you thrice blessed.”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah’s face became stern. “I have tried to +judge you fairly at the bar of my heart, Obadiah. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323'></a>323</span> +Old friendship has pleaded for you. Unhappiness +over the loss of your wife may have swayed you. Yet, +something tells me that you were always the man that +you have been of late, concealing the evil in you that +you might the better court success. At any rate, there +has been a gradual outward change in you until here +and now”–Hezekiah was very grave–“I impeach +you before the high court of my heart for divers crimes +and offenses, treasonable in their nature, against the +good will and happiness of your fellowmen.”</p> + +<p>The prisoner at the bar gave a start, possibly remembering +that the historical punishment for treason +was the headsman’s axe.</p> + +<p>“You have hardened, Obadiah,” the lawyer continued +relentlessly, “until you have grown as icy cold +as the winter hills of your native lands. You have +become cruel and rapacious in your business dealings. +Of late years your commercial pathway is strewn with +the wrecks of enterprises, which in no sense affected +your own safety but which you have ruined through +a sheer desire to dominate, a naked lust for power. +Controlled by greed and avarice, no generous thought +for your fellowmen actuates you. Steeped in your +own selfishness, you sit in this room like–” shaking +a forefinger at Obadiah the attorney hesitated, seeking +a fitting condemnatory simile. Suddenly he concluded–“like +a fat hog,” and struck the desk of the +alleged swine such a thump that the pork jumped.</p> + +<p>“Your memory will tell you how many times I have +blocked your devilish schemes by convincing you that, +if persisted in, the anti-trust laws must land you behind +prison bars.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324'></a>324</span>Hezekiah in the pose of a stout statue of liberty, +thrust up his right arm and clasped his left hand to +his breast. He fixed accusing eyes upon the manufacturer +and cried in a big voice, “If the world knew as +much about you as I do, I am not so sure but they’d +incarcerate you under the first law of nature–self-preservation.”</p> + +<p>“Hush!” Obadiah paled visibly and with great +nervousness viewed the open transom.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah leveled an arraigning hand at his employer. +“Your actions should be such that you could rest in +equanimity while they are cried aloud in the market +places. The hour of reckoning is at hand, Obadiah. +You believe yourself invincible. Blinded by a curtain +of obstinacy you have not read your destiny. I tear +it aside and expose your dark future. Your daughter, +beautiful and affectionate, filled, as was her mother, +with thoughts of others, discovers your true character +and, turning from you, prefers the peace of a good +conscience amidst humbler surroundings to a home of +wealth in your company. She leaves you–alone.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah winced.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah returned to his task with renewed vigor. +“This morning your personal staff–men who have +been with you for years–separate from you. I have +no hesitation in assuming that they departed rankling +beneath injustice. They leave you–alone. Now +your attorney”–Hezekiah’s voice was filled with +feeling–“your adviser for years, tenders his resignation +rather than to be a party to enforcing your selfish +demands against your own daughter. He leaves you–alone.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325'></a>325</span>Stunned by this unexpected shot, Obadiah appeared +to shrink in his chair.</p> + +<p>Highly pleased at the effect and sound of his own +words, Hezekiah seized upon the order of the Board +of Health and, shaking it in the face of the mill owner, +waxed ever more eloquent. Floating away upon the +wings of his own fervid oratory, he continued in ringing +tones.</p> + +<p>“The keen eye of this great Commonwealth has +found you out. Now does its strong right arm, +the law, reach forth to protect the weak and restrain +the strong. In ardent pursuit of evil it draws ever +nearer and nearer, until at last it embraces even the +waste–”</p> + +<p>Hezekiah stopped short. A look of horror, loathing +and disgust swept his countenance. He was inexpressibly +shocked at the extraordinary conclusion to which +his simile hastened.</p> + +<p>To Obadiah, the repugnance in Hezekiah’s face depicted +antipathy towards himself. For years the attorney +had been the manufacturer’s one friend. He +had admired the lawyer’s learning and leaned upon +his judgment. For years he had known that words +were playthings in his legal adviser’s mouth; but that +look was too much. The aversion and detestation displayed +crushed the mill owner. Humbled to the dust +he reviewed the calamities which Hezekiah had so ably +painted. With due allowance for rhetorical exaggeration, +they frightened him. He must save Hezekiah +to pilot him through the darkness.</p> + +<p>Sick and weary and miserable but above all else +lonely, Obadiah arose from his desk and confronted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326'></a>326</span> +the lawyer. “Hezekiah, you will not leave me?” he +begged, in pitiful humiliation, his anger gone.</p> + +<p>The placid Hezekiah was shaken to the depths of +his soul at the catastrophe which had befallen him. +Vain of his oratorical ability, he regarded his address +to Obadiah as a worthy effort until his final bull. +Such slips are remembered by one’s professional +brethren until the end of one’s life. He took his grievance +out on the abased Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“I’m tired,” he growled, “tired of your greed and +selfishness, tired of your confounded pigheadedness +and the continual scrap in which you live. You’re old, +Obadiah. I bet you ten dollars that the hearse is in +use which will haul you to the cemetery.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah shuddered and displayed no disposition to +take the wager.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah went on testily. “You worry about +money until every one hates and despises you. It’s +bad for my reputation to work for you–to be caught +in your company. I have saved enough to keep me +comfortable until I die and I’m going to take it easy. +I want to quit fighting law suits and go to compromising.” +A glint of his usual humor flashed in Hezekiah’s +eyes. “If you’d let me compromise your cases, +I might stay.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah made a quick motion as of consent.</p> + +<p>Hezekiah viewed his shaking employer with great +severity. “You must prove your conversion by your +works,” he rapped. “You’ve got to show me.”</p> + +<p>“What should I do, Hezekiah?” the manufacturer, +looking helpless and old, begged. “Give me the benefit +of your advice.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327'></a>327</span>“Do?” snapped Hezekiah petulantly. “Decide +how you think a thing ought to be done and do the opposite. +You’re always wrong.”</p> + +<p>“Please be specific, Hezekiah.”</p> + +<p>At the word “please,” the lawyer started in surprise. +In a moment he growled, “Compromise. +Learn to consider the rights and wishes of other people. +The compromise is a most valuable instrument +in bringing about domestic happiness,” and with this +sage advice, Hezekiah, the bachelor, left his employer.</p> + +<p>Stricken low by physical disorder and verbal assaults, +it was a day of gloomy forebodings to Obadiah. +After Hezekiah’s oration, the path ahead, usually certain +and clear to him, seemed beset with obstacles and +lined with eyes of hatred.</p> + +<p>When he went home that night there seemed to be +a stoop in his usually erect carriage and a deep anxiety +dwelt in his eyes. Hardly touching his dinner, he +sat through it, in his dining room, plunged in thought.</p> + +<p>Serena marked the change in the behavior of her employer +with great interest. Returning to the kitchen, +she told Ike, “Mr. Devil done sna’ah dat ole man wid +er bait o’ shinin’ gol’. Now he gwine hawg tie ’im +wid hot chains outen de fu’nace o’ to’ment so dat he +kin tote ’im to de aige o’ de bottomless pit an’ cas’ ’im +into de fiah an’ brimstone. Dat ole man is er strivin’ +mighty fie’ce to git loose. He’s er gnawin’ off er leg +to git outen de sn’ah, as de hot i’on burns ’im an’ de +brimstone smoke choke ’im.”</p> + +<p>The chauffeur, being for the moment in high favor, +was enjoying a piece of pie as a fitting appetizer for +his later dinner. “He ain’ lif’ up his voice in prah +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328'></a>328</span> +or mek no sign er tall,” responded the youth, giving +close attention to the pastry and but little heed to the +demoniacal trapping going on in the neighborhood.</p> + +<p>“Dey’s er fightin’ ete’nally, boy,” explained Serena +with scorn.</p> + +<p>Ike rolled his eyes, exposing large areas of white until +they rested upon the woman. “Ain’ you mek er +mistake, Miss Sereny?” he suggested respectfully. +“Ain’ you mean infe’nally?”</p> + +<p>“Look yere, boy,” she retorted with great dignity, +“ah ain’ er astin’ no trash lak yo’all to teach me nothin’. +Ah gits ma ’ligion f’om de good book in de chu’ch +house. Min’ you’ own business.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah retired early and again tossed backwards +and forwards through long hours. Hezekiah had indeed +torn aside a concealing veil from the manufacturer’s +life. Obadiah was not a man given to introspection, +but, for the first time in years, the words of +his attorney had forced it upon him. Tonight his +boasted accomplishments were nothing, while episodes +which he would have gladly forgotten loomed large. +Above all else a great loneliness and fear of the future +crushed him.</p> + +<p>In this hour of deepest humility, recollections of his +wife and the far away days of his married life came +to him. Sweet and tender memories these, of occurrences +almost forgotten. He softened to them, and moments +followed when it was as if the spirit of Elinor +Dale had crossed the span of years and labored with +the troubled soul of the selfish, obstinate, purse-proud +old rich man until at last, Obadiah–slept in peace.</p> + +<p>When he appeared in the morning, a change had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329'></a>329</span> +taken place in him. There was strength and decision +in his face; but it seemed as if the lines of cruelty and +obstinacy were altered and smoothed away as the ruts +and tracks upon a sandy beach after a great storm.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330'></a>330</span><a id='link_20'></a>CHAPTER XX<br /><span class='h2fs'>HIS JOURNEY’S END</span></h2> + +<p>Excitement prevailed in the home of Aunt Kate in +Old Rock. There was a soft sound of feminine feet +rushing about. Much searching for mislaid articles +of apparel was taking place and those hastening made +nervous demands for assistance upon those hurrying.</p> + +<p>The disturbance in this peaceful household was due +to the receipt of knowledge that Charles Augustus and +his mother had returned from New York during the +preceding night. Preparations were now in progress +for the departure of Virginia and Helen to greet the +returned ones in a fitting manner.</p> + +<p>At last the two girls were appropriately garbed and +Aunt Kate kissed them good bye at the front door and, +with a kindly smile upon her face, watched them run +across the meadow towards the pond, making farewell +signals with their canoe paddles.</p> + +<p>An hour later there was a sharp rap of the old fashioned +knocker on the front door. “Mercy sakes upon +us,” muttered Aunt Kate. “What business has anybody +coming here at this time of day?” A look of +aversion crept over her face. “I’ll bet my boots it is +an agent or a peddler. I’ll send him packing pretty +quick with a flea in his ear.” Apparently bent upon +carrying out this peculiar attention she hurried into the +hall. Bending low, she pulled aside the curtain of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331'></a>331</span> +side light and peered out. The feet and legs before +her advertised their owner as a man. “It is a peddler,” +she murmured. Her gentle face assumed a stern and +forbidding aspect. Suddenly, she jerked the door +open and, glowering at the intruder, cried, “Go away! +I don’t want–”</p> + +<p>The victim of this unusual reception was her +brother Obadiah.</p> + +<p>“Land o’ Goshen, how you frightened me, Obadiah +Dale,” Aunt Kate reproached him as soon as she recovered +from her surprise. “Don’t you know any +better than to scare a body half to death?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t intend to frighten you, Kate,” Obadiah +protested, when he got over his own astonishment.</p> + +<p>“The bad place is paved with good intentions,” she +quoted with sternness and, as her brother hesitated upon +the porch, puzzled at his extraordinary greeting, she +commanded, “Come in. What are you waiting out +there for? Must I lead you in?” Giving him a ceremonious +kiss, she ushered him into the large back room +where the table prepared for luncheon reminded her to +be hospitable. “Have you had breakfast, Obadiah? +I’ll fix you something in a minute.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, on the train. I don’t want anything to eat, +Kate.”</p> + +<p>Satisfied that her brother was not starving, she gazed +at him over the tops of her spectacles with a humorous +twinkle in her eyes. “This <i>is</i> a surprise. It is the +first time that you have visited me since–” She +paused in sudden indignation. “Obadiah Dale,” she +went on sharply, “you have never deigned to honor +me with a visit in my own home.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332'></a>332</span>He was nervous and ill at ease as he answered, “I +know, Kate, but I’m a very–”</p> + +<p>She interrupted him, in a gentler mood. “Yes, I +know, Obadiah. The years have run swiftly. Yesterday +we were boy and girl together at the old home. +Today we are old folks, the best part of our lives +spent. The page of our earthly hour is nearly written +and there is only room for a few more sentences.” +She glared at him with great severity and sniffed, +“At least, we’d better see that these lines have something +good about us.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Kate,” he agreed meekly.</p> + +<p>“I know that you want to see–Virginia. She’s +not here, Obadiah. She has gone up to the head of +the pond to see Charles Augustus, the lame boy who +was operated upon,” she told him.</p> + +<p>Obadiah nodded. “How far is that from here? +Can I walk it?”</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate considered. “It’s about three miles +by road. You will get lost and never find the place. +The girls will be back by two or three o’clock. Can’t +you make yourself comfortable and visit with me until +then?”</p> + +<p>“I do want to see Virginia. She has been away a +long time.” He jumped to his feet and moved nervously +about. “I think that I shall walk there, if you +don’t mind, Kate.”</p> + +<p>His anxiety awakened the sympathy of his sister. +“You are not used to strolls like that. I am afraid +that it will not be good for you. I have a horse that +is old and fat and slow but he can haul us there if you +can hitch him up.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333'></a>333</span>“That will do.” Obadiah was much relieved. “I’ll +drive your horse. I used to do it when I was a boy.”</p> + +<p>“That was a long time ago. You may have forgotten.” +An idea struck her. “Do fashions change +in harness? If so, you won’t know a thing about it +and it won’t be safe to trust you.”</p> + +<p>The employer of hundreds was disgusted at his sister’s +display of lack of confidence in his abilities. +“Harnesses haven’t changed,” he insisted, dryly.</p> + +<p>At the barn, Archimedes was brought forth and +Obadiah Dale, millionaire manufacturer, essayed to +harness the steed to the family vehicle. He displayed +great energy and his enthusiasm increased with the +passage of time. Archimedes was an ideal animal for +the mill owner’s experimentations. In all of his impressive +dignity of weight and size, the animal waited +motionless while Obadiah buckled and unbuckled straps +in the making and correction of his errors. Minutes +passed and disaster threatened only when, in slipping +the bit between the massive teeth, a couple of the manufacturer’s +fingers inadvertently attended the linked +metal. Being asleep, the animal failed to take advantage +of it.</p> + +<p>At last, Obadiah, viewing his handiwork with pride, +signified that all things were in readiness for the journey. +Aunt Kate had noted his prolonged efforts with +grave suspicion. She now approached Archimedes in +the critical mood of an irritated C. O. at Saturday +morning inspection. Obadiah took humble position, +two paces to her right and rear.</p> + +<p>“That trace is twisted. Straighten it!” she commanded.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334'></a>334</span>He corrected this oversight.</p> + +<p>She surveyed the bridle and whirled upon him, horror +depicted in her eyes. “Obadiah Dale,” she exclaimed, +“haven’t you any better sense than to take +your own sister driving without buckling the reins to +the bit. Lands sakes, I might have been dragged to +a terrible death.”</p> + +<p>Strange to relate, when this grave mistake had been +overcome and all things were in order; in spite of the +conclusive evidences of Obadiah’s incompetence, Aunt +Kate permitted him to drive. As she climbed into the +surrey, she announced, “I’ll sit back here where I can +get out if anything goes wrong.”</p> + +<p>This precaution as well as the general attitude of +his sister towards Archimedes, had persuaded Obadiah +that he had to do with a fractious steed, notwithstanding +that all outward appearances justified the conclusion +that Archimedes was a cow in soul and action.</p> + +<p>The mill owner shoved open the sliding door of the +barn with an anxious eye upon the fat back as if fearful +that he might gallop wildly forth even as a fire +horse leaving a truck house in response to an alarm.</p> + +<p>Archimedes never budged.</p> + +<p>Obadiah climbed clumsily over the front wheel, the +reins hanging loosely from his hands. Seating himself, +he promptly drew them taut, prepared for any +emergency.</p> + +<p>“Be careful, Obadiah,” Aunt Kate warned him from +the back seat.</p> + +<p>“Gid-ap!” Obadiah spoke in a soothing voice +suitable to a high strung animal.</p> + +<p>Archimedes held his ground.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335'></a>335</span>Obadiah raised his voice in some degree, “Gid-ap!” +he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Archimedes might have been cast in a supporting +part in an equestrian statue for all the notice he took +of what transpired about him.</p> + +<p>In vain Obadiah amplified his efforts. “This fool +horse is balky,” he grumbled to Aunt Kate.</p> + +<p>“Archimedes balky, fiddle-de-dee,” she answered. +“Maybe he’s tied.” Past experience caused her to +examine the vicinity to be assured that through inadvertence +they were not made fast to anything by +chains or cables. Suddenly, she became aware of +Obadiah’s firm rein. “No wonder!” she cried, +“You are holding him too tight. You don’t know +how to drive. Give me the lines.” Leaning forward +over the back of the front seat Aunt Kate seized the +reins and gave three or four swinging pulls as a conductor +signaling to the engineman ahead. Simultaneously +she made clicking sounds with her lips reminiscent +of swine enjoying a milky repast.</p> + +<p>Archimedes responded readily to this treatment and +moved slowly forward.</p> + +<p>“There,” Aunt Kate said with great satisfaction as +she returned the reins to Obadiah. “That’s the way +to drive a horse.” As they turned out of the driveway +into the road, she warned him, “Do be careful of the +automobiles.”</p> + +<p>“Why should I be careful of them? Can’t they +take care of themselves up here?” he demanded, meanwhile +tugging at the reins, and then, “Who broke this +fool horse?”</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate leaned forward. “Where?” she asked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336'></a>336</span> +with great anxiety only to quickly drop back into her +seat with a suppressed, “Oh!”</p> + +<p>Regardless of the efforts of the mill owner, the steed +drifted gradually towards the gutter.</p> + +<p>“This horse isn’t bridlewise,” Obadiah declared +in disgust. “I might as well be trying to drive a +cow.”</p> + +<p>“He has more sense than lots of people I know,” +Aunt Kate answered with a meaning look at her +brother. “He wants to get out of the way of automobiles.”</p> + +<p>For a few minutes Archimedes was permitted to +follow the way of the gutter in peace, then, “This is +ridiculous,” protested Obadiah. “I feel like a perfect +idiot driving this way. I’ll be hanged if I’ll do +it.” He yanked and shouted at the horse until, fighting +every inch of the way, the animal drifted towards +the crown of the road.</p> + +<p>With nervous eyes, Aunt Kate searched the highway +back of them for signs of approaching machines. +“Obadiah, look out. Here comes a car,” she screamed.</p> + +<p>Alarmed at her tone, his body stiffened to meet the +shock of imminent collision. He jerked his head about +fearfully to perceive a car following them a mile away. +“Why did you startle me that way? I thought something +was about to hit us,” he blurted.</p> + +<p>The horn of the approaching machine demanded the +road. Obadiah tugged at Archimedes anew. The +horse answered but slowly.</p> + +<p>“Hurry, Obadiah, they are running into us,” +screamed Aunt Kate.</p> + +<p>The mill owner redoubled his efforts to get out of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337'></a>337</span> +the way as a series of frantic squawks and the grind +of brakes sounded from behind them.</p> + +<p>In desperation, Obadiah jerked out the whip and +gave Archimedes a smart clip. The horse bounded +clumsily and stopped in the middle of the road. The +petted animal’s astonishment at this treatment was such +that he had to pause for consideration.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you strike my horse that way,” cried Aunt +Kate indignantly, her mind diverted from the menacing +automobile by the punishment of her property. +“You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah put up the whip, leaving the motionless +Archimedes to meditate upon his injuries in the center +of the highway while the automobile worked its +way around. It came opposite to them, a flivver of +the cheapest type–mere dust beside Obadiah’s own +car.</p> + +<p>A rough, angry man glared at the mill owner and +bawled, “You old moss-back, do you think that you +own this road? When somebody takes a wheel off of +that old ark, it may”–the voice was very doubtful–“knock +some sense into your bean. Don’t you know +enough to put out your hand when you stop, you mutton-headed +fool. If there was a constable about I’d +have you chucked into the calaboose.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah sat speechless under this insolence. Possibly +he was becoming inured to unkind words. As +the car disappeared in the distance his tongue was +loosened, “Kate, did you get their number?” he inquired +with great anxiety.</p> + +<p>“No. Why on earth should I want their number? +I hope I never see them again.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338'></a>338</span>He almost stammered in the flood of his wrath. “If +I had it, I’d prosecute them–have them fined and +put in prison.”</p> + +<p>“What for–scolding us?” inquired Aunt Kate +softly.</p> + +<p>He did not answer for a time. When he turned his +temper had departed. “Kate, I was wrong, I suppose,” +he said.</p> + +<p>She looked at him curiously and there was affection +in her glance; but her voice was stern as she replied, +“Obadiah, you were headstrong and it led you into +trouble, as it used to when you were a boy.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Kate.” In Obadiah’s tones was a new note.</p> + +<p>Thereafter, Archimedes pursued his way in the safety +of the gutter until they turned into a little used lane +where great trees, decked in wonderful autumnal colors, +arched overhead, and unkempt hedges brushed their +wheels. The birds, disturbed in their preparations for +their trip South, made short, noisy flights ahead of the +vehicle, protesting against the intrusion.</p> + +<p>Regardless of this, Obadiah and Archimedes, meditating +upon recent injuries, pursued the path that fate +would have them follow.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339'></a>339</span><a id='link_21'></a>CHAPTER XXI<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE TRIUMPH</span></h2> + +<p>When Virginia and Helen came up the path towards +the Curtis home, they missed the little figure of Charles +Augustus hobbling forth to meet them with joyous +greetings.</p> + +<p>“We’ll go to the front door,” suggested Helen. So +they passed around the house and, ascending the steps, +knocked at the weather-beaten front entrance.</p> + +<p>“Come in,” cried the shrill voice of Charles Augustus. +“I can’t open the door.”</p> + +<p>Virginia obeyed the command of the child with a +smile of delight. As she swung the door back, the +pleasant odor of frying doughnuts assailed her nostrils. +Looking through the rooms, she could see Mrs. Curtis +in the kitchen, fork in hand, awaiting their entrance +with a look of inquiry which melted into a smile of +welcome as she recognized them.</p> + +<p>In the midst of pillows, Charles Augustus sat in one +chair with his legs propped up upon another. As +usual, he was bright, cheerful and talkative.</p> + +<p>Virginia turned towards the child and then she gave +a little gasp of joy as a big fellow with black eyes and +a wonderful smile lifted himself with a cane and limped +towards her.</p> + +<p>“Joe!” she trilled, her sparkling blue eyes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340'></a>340</span> +revealing her heart’s rejoicing. “Joe!” she repeated, in a +voice which breathed its own enchantment.</p> + +<p>He was almost to her, his face alight with his happiness.</p> + +<p>“Joe!” she whispered again, and gave a startled +glance of astonishment as this huge fellow with dancing +eyes stood upon one leg, balanced himself with his +cane and thrust forth an encircling arm. Rooted to +the spot, she could not evade it as it drew her to him +and, with fascinated eyes and curious thrills, she +watched his head bend slowly towards her.</p> + +<p>“Joe”–this time it was the voice of his mother +speaking–“Where did you meet Virginia?”</p> + +<p>His head went up and his arm dropped at his side. +Virginia released his arms which she had clutched and, +with reddened, telltale faces, they turned to Mrs. Curtis.</p> + +<p>“We met in South Ridgefield, mother,” he told her, +and the girl gave an embarrassed nod of agreement.</p> + +<p>“Hum,” said Mrs. Curtis. The utterance meant +little but her manner much. She disappeared only to +return in a moment with a plate of doughnuts and a +pitcher of milk. “Who is hungry?” she asked.</p> + +<p>Among the young people, famine stalked abroad. +In its relief, flushed faces regained their normal color +and Helen’s mischievous giggles were quieted sufficiently +for her to meet Joe with becoming gravity before +giving her attention to her own sweetheart.</p> + +<p>But alas, the course of true love is never smooth. +Charles Augustus made energetic protest when he became +aware that Helen proposed to offer him nourishment +by hand after the manner in which infants but +recently weaned are treated. “Lemme be! My hands +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341'></a>341</span> +aren’t lame,” he objected. An unhappy look spread +over his face. “I get so tired sitting in this old chair. +Every little while, too, mother rubs my leg and works +it up and down. Ding bust it, that hurts.”</p> + +<p>Helen, giving up her attempt to feed the boy, endeavored +to sooth and comfort him. “In a week or so +you will be running about without a sign of a crutch. +Think of that. Won’t that be fine?”</p> + +<p>“I should be out now,” he grumbled. “Something +might happen to my hornet’s nest.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you worry,” Helen laughed. “Neither man +nor beast will interfere with that.”</p> + +<p>“How is Miss Knight?” Virginia asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Bossy as ever,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“She was a good nurse and she was nice to you, +Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he admitted with a chuckle; “but she is a +whole lot nicer to Mike Kelly these days.”</p> + +<p>Virginia was all interest.</p> + +<p>“He’s as pleased with her as a snow bird at a blizzard. +Every time it was Miss Knight’s evening off, +he would make an early call upon me dressed in his +best clothes.”</p> + +<p>There came a knock at the front door.</p> + +<p>Hastening to it at a nod from Mrs. Curtis, Helen +threw it wide open. Aunt Kate and Obadiah waited +without.</p> + +<p>“Daddy,” cried Virginia, for the moment blissfully +forgetful as she tried to get around Joe without hurting +his outstretched leg.</p> + +<p>“Obadiah Dale!” It was Mrs. Curtis who spoke +from the doorway into the dining room and there was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342'></a>342</span> +something in her voice which held them all. The happiness +had gone from her face, leaving it cold and distorted +with passion as Virginia had seen it.</p> + +<p>“Obadiah Dale!”–she fairly hissed the words–“What +do you want in my house? Would you like to +do me greater harm–you robber?” She gave a +shrill mirthless laugh and flung her hands towards the +sides of the poorly furnished room. “Look about you. +There isn’t much left since you got in your devil’s +work.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Curtis’s eyes shifted to Virginia as, startled by +this strange attack upon her father, she waited at Joe’s +side. It was as if the woman struggled between aversion +and regard. “I never thought you were his +daughter,” she snarled.</p> + +<p>White, tense and sickened to the depths of her being +by the fear of shameful disclosures, the girl could make +no reply.</p> + +<p>Joe Curtis was watching his mother with worried +eyes. The frightened faces of Helen and Charles Augustus +peeped from behind Aunt Kate who, from the +subdued exclamations and the indignant glances she +gave her brother, was expecting to hear the worst of +him.</p> + +<p>Clearly, Obadiah was amazed at the woman’s words. +He stood irresolute, his throat working as if he were +trying to swallow something. At last he regained the +power of speech. “Madam,” he began.</p> + +<p>“Madam,” sneered the woman, “Octavia Curtis, the +widow of Augustus Curtis, the man whose business +you ruined by your infernal scheming, whose wife and +two children were dragged by your greed and selfishness +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343'></a>343</span> +from a life of comfort–to this. What business +have you in my house, you thief?”</p> + +<p>Obadiah flushed and quailed under her words. Bewildered +and puzzled, a guilty conscience in business +catastrophes made him feel it advisable to allow his +opponent to develop her case.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Curtis’s words affected Virginia differently. +Her face flushed and her fears passed. “Stop,” she +interrupted, her eyes flashing angrily. “What right +have you to speak so to my father?”</p> + +<p>“Right?” Again that ugly laugh came from Mrs. +Curtis as she urged, “Ask him how he ruined the Curtis +mill at Brenton.”</p> + +<p>Obadiah gave a start.</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate, observing her brother through suspicious +eyes, noted this. “As ye sow, so shall ye reap,” she +quoted, for his greater comfort.</p> + +<p>The mill owner glanced hastily towards the door as +if seeking a line of retreat from this assemblage of +women and lame men. But Aunt Kate, the inner +keeper of the outer gate, barred his way.</p> + +<p>Pale of face but with a determined set to her mouth, +Virginia said softly, “Daddy, explain please. You +must Daddy.”</p> + +<p>“It was a perfectly legitimate business deal. The +Curtis mill had notes upon the market, protected by +a mortgage on the plant. I purchased them. When +they became due and were not paid, to protect myself–and +you–I foreclosed and took the mill. I suppose +this woman was caught in the deal,” Obadiah answered +and moved as if to leave the room.</p> + +<p>“Stop, Daddy,” the girl commanded. “We must +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344'></a>344</span> +settle this matter now. Either too much or too little +has been said.”</p> + +<p>“Settle?” Once more that acrimonious laugh +came from Mrs. Curtis’s lips. “How are you going +to settle for sleepless nights, for worry and for tears? +What can pay for those dreary days which grew into +weeks and months since hope for my children was +torn from my life?” She flung her arms wide in +the anguish which tortured her. “How are you going +to wipe out the fact that my poor lame baby”–she +pointed at Charles Augustus–“had to depend +upon charity to be able to play as other boys–plain +charity,” she almost screamed. “Or that he”–she +indicated Joe–“has been forced into the world to +struggle for an education he might have had in comfort.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” moaned Virginia. The misery of the story +clouded her eyes as they turned from the passion-torn +woman to her father.</p> + +<p>The flood of the emotion-driven woman’s words +seemed to have made Obadiah helpless. He stood as +if awaiting sentence for his evil doing, an old man abject +and forlorn.</p> + +<p>As she looked at him, a wave of pity swept over +Virginia and her love for him struggled in her heart, +regardless of all that had been said against him. “My +father can’t be to blame for all of this. I couldn’t +believe it of him,” she cried.</p> + +<p>It was as if the note of grief and entreaty in the +girl’s voice tempered the anger of Mrs. Curtis. She +dropped into a chair and began to sob. Joe Curtis +arose hastily, limped over to her side, and tried to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345'></a>345</span> +sooth her. At the sound of his mother’s grief, Charles +Augustus put his head upon Helen’s shoulder and wept +also.</p> + +<p>Virginia moved over and gently touched the shoulder +of the sobbing woman, who, flinching from contact +with the girl’s hand, drew herself sharply away.</p> + +<p>“Don’t, mother,” pleaded Joe.</p> + +<p>Virginia withdrew her hand, yet she remained by +Mrs. Curtis’s chair. “Tell me the whole story,” she +begged. “I must know. I have the right to know.”</p> + +<p>Even through her own grief, the anxiety and unhappiness +of the girl touched the older woman. She +raised her brimming eyes. Her temper had died away +and she spoke rapidly, almost in a monotone, broken +by sob hiccoughs. “At my husband’s death every +thing that he left me was invested in our mill. It was +a good business and should have given me and my boys +the comforts and even the luxuries of life. Before +his death, he had borrowed money to make improvements, +giving notes secured by a mortgage upon the +plant.</p> + +<p>“After he had gone, I took charge of the mill and +tried to run it myself. I was not a very good business +woman. I had a hard time to pay the interest on our +indebtedness. When the notes came due, I asked for +a renewal but my request was refused. I was thunderstruck. +I learned that your father had bought the +notes, and wherever I tried to raise money I was refused +because of his influence as a rival manufacturer. +So I lost my mill and had to meet life, a widow with +a baby and a young boy, a little money, and this old +farm.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346'></a>346</span>A flash of her anger returned and she pointed at +Obadiah. “My boys are raised in poverty while <i>he</i> +stands there in the pride of his wealth. When he got +the mill he never used it. He closed it, throwing good +people who had worked for us for years out of employment. +They had to move away and sacrifice their +little homes. It brought sorrow to them as well as to +me. He, Obadiah Dale, is to blame for all of this.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate wiped a tear from her eye.</p> + +<p>“Daddy,” Virginia said softly, “did you know +the harm that you were doing to all of these people?” +Her eyes searched his, as if to discover his answer +before he could utter it, and her tones beseeched him +to justify her love at the altar of her heart.</p> + +<p>Obadiah stiffened. He held up his head and returned +the look of his daughter squarely. He knew +that he was giving battle for her love, aye, even for +her respect. The old man was a fighter. “No!” +he cried. “It is unjust to charge me with all of the +sorrows and tribulations of this family. I built the +first mill in this country–took the chances of opening +the industry. The Brenton mill was established +to compete with me. There was room for one big +plant here and only one. Augustus Curtis knew it and +expected to put me out of business. Mrs. Curtis”–Obadiah’s +voice was firm now–“you have said +some hard things about me today in the presence of +my daughter and sister. I am entitled in common +justice to my defence. I started in business without +a dollar. Much worse off, I think, than your husband. +Business has been a battle of supremacy with +me. I have taken hard licks and I have given them. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347'></a>347</span> +I have fought my way. Remember, I had to. A man +must win or lose in business and many are the weapons +used. I struck with the first one at hand and hit the +man in front of me. Do you blame a soldier for the +suffering of the dependents of those he kills in battle? +I think not. Mrs. Curtis,” he continued, “you never +met me before.”</p> + +<p>“No,” she admitted.</p> + +<p>“How did you recognize me?”</p> + +<p>“My husband pointed you out to me in South Ridgefield,” +she sobbed.</p> + +<p>“Did you ever advertise the fact that you were +running that mill?”</p> + +<p>“I was afraid to,” she moaned. “I used my husband’s +name.”</p> + +<p>“You see,” said Obadiah to Virginia. “I had no +way of knowing that a woman was running the Brenton +mill. I plead guilty to fighting <i>men</i>. When I +get whipped I smile. When I put a man out of business +he starts another. He doesn’t sit down and cry +and blame me for what happens to his family ever +afterwards. I never fought a woman in all of my +life.”</p> + +<p>“It’s true, Obadiah. You used to talk back but +you never fought with me. I am afraid that you are +going to have to get a camel through a needle’s eye; +but you wouldn’t fight a woman,” interjected Aunt +Kate.</p> + +<p>Obadiah disregarded his sister’s fears and went on, +“Did you ever hear of Dalton, the New York manufacturer?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Curtis nodded.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_348'></a>348</span>“Five years ago, he started to put me out of business +by buying up the small mills and pooling them +against me. To protect myself, I bought negotiable +paper, covering mills in this locality wherever I could +get it. Where I could get control of the mills, I +did it. They were my competitors and would have +taken my business or combined against me gladly,” +Obadiah’s eyes rested anxiously upon the face of his +daughter as he concluded, “I was fighting Dalton, +a more powerful man than myself, not widows and orphans.”</p> + +<p>Virginia’s face had softened but there was yet a +question in her manner.</p> + +<p>“I am an old man,” Obadiah continued. “I find +that my ideas are changing and my view of life shifting. +I have believed that the accumulation of wealth +was everything. I know now that the happy man must +accumulate other things or he will find himself deserted +and miserable with his gold. In my life I have been +guilty of many wrongs. I would right those wrongs +if I could. Will you forgive me, Mrs. Curtis, for +unknowingly harming you and yours?”</p> + +<p>“No,” she cried. “You explain your reasons for +loosening the forces which injured me; but there is +no regret in your heart. You’d do the same thing tomorrow.”</p> + +<p>He turned to his daughter. “At least, you understand +me, Virginia?”</p> + +<p>“I know what you have done, Daddy; but Mrs. +Curtis has suffered, and she alone can wipe the slate +clean.” The girl’s face had saddened again, and as +she spoke it was as if she had forgotten that there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349'></a>349</span> +were others in the room. “Mother wouldn’t have +wanted you to make all of this unhappiness. You +brought sorrow and tears where she would have +wanted you to carry laughter and joy. I can’t judge +you fairly. How I have longed for you during the +past weeks and how I have wanted to go home. Unless +Mrs. Curtis can forgive you, Daddy, you haven’t +found mother’s way to settle this matter.” She gave +a queer strained little cry. “I can never go home with +you, Daddy, until you learn to follow her way,” she +sobbed, and dropped into a chair.</p> + +<p>At the girl’s words, Mrs. Curtis had raised her eyes, +and as she listened her face softened. As Virginia +sank into the chair, the woman was beside her, petting +and soothing her.</p> + +<p>It seemed as if his daughter’s words had taken +the very heart out of Obadiah. It was a haggard old +man bowed low with trouble who watched her, the +greatness of his longing written plain upon his lined +countenance.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Mrs. Curtis moved towards him. “Obadiah +Dale”–she spoke so gently that it was hard +to recognize her as the one who had so recently flung +the accusations at him–“a moment ago I told you +that I could not forgive you. I was wrong. Your +daughter told you that it would have been her mother’s +way to have brought laughter and joy to me instead +of sorrow and tears. That which your daughter has +done for my son, Charles Augustus, fills my heart +with joy and brings laughter to my lips. She has +followed her mother’s way. I can’t believe that any +man altogether bad could be the father of such a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350'></a>350</span> +daughter.” She held out her hand to him. “I forgive +you.”</p> + +<p>“When I was at the office of the Board of Health, +yesterday, Virginia,” Joe announced, as one discussing +a topic of great personal interest, “I was told that +your father had agreed to keep the mill waste out of +the river.”</p> + +<p>There was a scream of delight, and a teary Virginia +launched herself into her father’s arms, giving happy +cries of endearment. In a moment she faced Mrs. +Curtis, and cried, “He’s perfectly grand. He’ll do +anything to right your wrongs.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Curtis smiled. “I think that we had better +let your father forget my troubles for a moment,” she +urged.</p> + +<p>“Land sakes,” ejaculated Aunt Kate in a loud +whisper, “I’m glad to see that woman laugh. I was +afraid that she loved her troubles so much she wouldn’t +give them up.”</p> + +<p>“Hush, mother, she’ll hear you,” expostulated +Helen.</p> + +<p>Thus repressed, Aunt Kate delivered a moral lesson +to Charles Augustus in a voice heard all over the room. +“It is easier to receive thanks for doing nice things, +Charles, than to have to beg forgiveness for doing +mean ones.”</p> + +<p>Fortunately Obadiah, diligently engaged at that moment +in erasing the past, was deaf to his sister’s remarks. +He told Mrs. Curtis, “I’ll re-open the Brenton +mill as soon as I can have it overhauled. I can +use it on some contracts I have. The profits shall be +yours. When you can repay the amount of the notes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351'></a>351</span> +from them, I’ll transfer the mill back to you. If you +wish, I’ll buy it from you or rent it until your son is +capable of assuming charge of it.”</p> + +<p>He faced Joe and said, “I understand that you’ll +graduate from college this June. There’ll be a position +waiting for you in my mill.”</p> + +<p>“In South Ridgefield?” Virginia inquired anxiously.</p> + +<p>Obadiah gave his daughter a keen glance and then +stared at Joe appraisingly before he answered. “Yes, +in South Ridgefield, until his mother wants him to +take charge of her own business. By that time, if he +has brains and follows my plans for him, he should +be the finest young mill executive in this part of the +country.”</p> + +<p>The youthful Charles Augustus came under the +mill owner’s eye. “I’ll see that every expense connected +with the operation upon this young man is paid. +We don’t want outsiders in on that.”</p> + +<p>He perceived Helen. “Well, well, how you have +grown,” he declared in surprise. “You want to be +a teacher. I’ll send you to college.”</p> + +<p>“Goodness knows, Obadiah,” protested Aunt Kate, +“a body would think it was Christmas.” She viewed +him doubtfully. “I am afraid that you were always +inclined to be a little extravagant.”</p> + +<p>From the moment that his daughter embraced him, +happiness had filled the soul of the mill owner. The +difficulties of the past few days were forgotten. He +beamed at his sister, generosity oozing from every +pore. “Your house needs painting, Kate. I’ll have +it done. I’ll sell that plug of a horse you have and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352'></a>352</span> +buy you one that is broken or get you an automobile.”</p> + +<p>“Stop right there, Obadiah,” she commanded. “I +have managed my affairs for years without your help. +When you talk about selling a horse like Archimedes, +I doubt your judgment. Look there!” She pointed +proudly through the window. “Who’d care to own +a finer horse than that?”</p> + +<p>Even as the assembled ones followed Aunt Kate’s +finger, Archimedes, wearied by the prolonged call, +gathered his feet beneath him and with a care for the +shafts evidencing practice, sank to the ground. From +this position of comfort, usually reserved by most well +bred horses for the privacy of the box stall, Archimedes +viewed his surroundings apparently with great +complacency.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_353'></a>353</span><a id='link_22'></a>CHAPTER XXII<br /><span class='h2fs'>NOBODY HOME, MR. DEVIL</span></h2> + +<p>The October night was clear, with a bite in the air +which foretold sharp frosts and winter’s snows. There +was no wind, only a great silence, as if all nature had +tucked itself away for a long night’s rest.</p> + +<p>On the eastern horizon, there was a dull glow as if +it were the reflections of a great conflagration. The +light of it brightened, and slowly over the edge of +things arose a golden streak, the curved top of the +moon. In stately dignity, it ascended towards the +zenith, its gold changing to silver and its beams bathing +the world in a flood of gentle light. Over field +and forest and plain the soft veil advanced, spreading +its magic silvery sheen until all it touched became a +mysterious fairyland.</p> + +<p>In this delicate mantle were enfolded the huts of +the poor and the palaces of the rich, the lonely dwelling +and the massed houses of great cities. The thriving +municipality of South Ridgefield was lighted by +this mild illumination which painted with a gleaming +brush the residence of Mrs. Henderson, and even +tinged the bald head of that learned lawyer, Hezekiah +Wilkins, who, seated upon the porch railing, gazed +heavenward and told the widow, “It’s a beautiful +moon, Mary. I have always admired the moon. It’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_354'></a>354</span> +the friend of youth. Since the beginning of time it +has been the one welcome third party at sentimental +trysts. If the moon were a gossip what stories it +could tell. What vows have been uttered in its presence +and signed and sealed–”</p> + +<p>“And broken, Hezekiah?” suggested Hennie.</p> + +<p>“What if the moon should turn tattletale, Mary?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t worry. It’s blind or it would blush red +with shame for the fickleness of men,” Mrs. Henderson +told him and then went on, “Forget the moon and +tell me what you did for Virginia that worked this +miracle?”</p> + +<p>He chuckled. “It was so easy. I told Obadiah +that he made me think of a fat hog. As usual he displayed–ahem–confidence +in my judgment.”</p> + +<p>She leaned towards him, her face filled with delight. +“Hezekiah Wilkins,” she whispered excitedly, +“I could hug you for those words.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been waiting a good many years for you to +do that, Mary.”</p> + +<p>She dropped her head. “It’s the moon, Hezekiah,” +she warned him. “I forgot how to embrace any one +years ago.”</p> + +<p>In the mysterious light, it seemed to him that a +smile played about her mouth. His arm slipped about +her waist. He tipped her chin gently and looked down +into the face which for so long had meant to him the +one woman. “Is it true, Mary? You’ll marry me?”</p> + +<p>A stray cloud passed in front of the moon, and when +it passed, the beams lighted the porch of Aunt Kate’s +house at Old Rock.</p> + +<p>The door opened and Obadiah came out, while his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_355'></a>355</span> +sister drew a shawl closer to her shoulders and waited +in the doorway. “It’s a beautiful night,” she said, +“a perfect Fall night.”</p> + +<p>“It’s chilly–it’s really cold,” he objected, shrugging +his shoulders. He walked to the end of the +porch and looked towards the apple tree where the +hammock swung in lonesomeness. “Where is Virginia?” +he asked.</p> + +<p>“She went walking with Joe.”</p> + +<p>“She’ll freeze,” he worried.</p> + +<p>Humor glinted in Aunt Kate’s eyes. “Girls take +moonlight walks on the coldest winter nights and I +never heard of one freezing, Obadiah. Your blood +is thin. Come in and I’ll build a fire of chips for +you.”</p> + +<p>“No,” protested Obadiah, “I’ll build one for you.”</p> + +<p>The moonbeams bathed the meadow and the pond +in their soft light. They silvered the great bowlder +left by some glacier upon the edge of this inland water. +On a depression in its side sat Joe, and Virginia was +at his side. Before them stretched the shadowed mirror +of the pond. Opposite loomed the tree clad hill +in misty gloom. The moon clothed its summit in a +mantle of light, reflected the tree-broken sky line in +delicate tracery upon the water below, and pushed a +shining pathway to their feet.</p> + +<p>The spell of the night held the girl. It seemed +wrong to speak aloud. “Listen, Joe,” she whispered, +“the world is asleep.” From the hill came the sound +of a cow bell sweetened by distance. Except for this +and the crickets all was still. “It’s not a bit lonely,” +she sighed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_356'></a>356</span>“No, not nearly as lonely as South Ridgefield after +you left,” he agreed.</p> + +<p>“Did you miss me?” She was watching the pond.</p> + +<p>He stole a glance at the curves of her face and the +flash of her eyes. It seemed to him that never since +the beginning of time could there have been such another. +He had lured a spirit of the night to a seat beside +him. “I nearly died of loneliness,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“You poor boy.” Her voice was rich in tenderness. +“Loneliness is dreadful, Joe. I don’t want you to +feel that way.” Surely this was a nymph who had +stolen forth to give him sympathy.</p> + +<p>“I was miserable every moment after you left,” +he told her pathetically.</p> + +<p>She turned her face to him, wonderful in its mysterious +moonlight beauty. “Joe,” she pleaded, “you +must not be sad. Knowing me must not bring unhappiness +to you.”</p> + +<p>“You must never leave me again, Virginia. When +I am away from you I can’t be happy.” Now the blue +eyes were drawing a marvelous power of enchantment +from the moonbeams, and the black eyes were reflecting +the wonder of it. Under the charm of it, he +dropped his cane.</p> + +<p>With a little cry of tenderness she tried to catch it. +Losing her balance she fell towards him. He caught +her in his arms, and the only other cloud in all the +heavens that night drifted before the moon and the +world darkened. Yet, on this old rock, lips touched +and love blazed and hearts whispered words of gladness.</p> + +<p>The cloud passed on and the beams fell upon Serena, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_357'></a>357</span> +who had come forth upon the stoop of the Dale kitchen +for a breath of fresh air. She raised her eyes to the +great orb hanging high above her. Its light displayed +a look of great happiness and contentment upon her +black face as she whispered into the night, “Praise be! +Ma honey chil’ is er comin’ home. De ole man done +conquah de evil spi’it which to’ment ’im. Dat fool +Ike done heard de warnin’ dat come lak er cry in de +night, an’ join de chu’ch. <i>Nobody home, Mr. Devil.</i>”</p> + +<p class='c mt20'>THE END</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c fs12'>THE TRIUMPH OF VIRGINIA DALE<br /><span class='fss'>Another GLAD Book (Trade Mark)</span></p> +<p class='c'><i>By John Francis, Jr.</i></p> +<p class='c'><i>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90</i></p> + +<p>This new novel, marking the advent of a hitherto +unknown writer of fiction, offers, along with a delightful +romance of youth, a tinge of scintillating humor +that stamps itself indelibly on the mind of the reader, +and evokes many a sympathetic chuckle. It fairly +bubbles over with exuberant cheerfulness, and is sure +to inject a good share of its unlimited store of “What’s +good for the world” into every one who is lucky enough +to read it.</p> + +<p>Furthermore, the peculiar magnetism of the characters +is such that the reader cannot believe they are +merely book creatures, <i>and</i>, we wager they are not. +Virginia Dale, the heroine, is a Good Samaritan, Miss +Sunshine, and Glad Heart–all of these–and yet the +most natural young person imaginable, and as she progresses +in her mission of “brightening up the corner” +she builds for her own future one of the most beautiful +characters fiction has ever claimed.</p> + +<p>The story is essentially a “character” story, but +this does not detract from the plot what it just seems to +get in the natural course of things, for, as a venerable +reader once aptly remarked: “When story folk act +natural, we ain’t goin’ to forgit ’em.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>THE PRINCESS NAIDA<br /><i>By Brewer Corcoran</i><br /><i>Author of “The Road to Le Rêve” etc.</i></p> +<p class='c'><i>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated by H. Weston Taylor, $1.90</i></p> + +<p>Adventure and romance are the keynotes of this new +novel by Brewer Corcoran–adventure which will +stir the blood of every lover of fast-moving action and +culminative plot, and romance which will charm all +who have a tender spot for a lovably beautiful girl and +a regular “he” man. It is a tale of today, set amid +the mountains of Switzerland and the ugly rocks of +Bolshevism on which is wrecked the mythical principality +of Nirgendsberg–a story of a brave little +princess who puts unfaltering faith in American manhood +and resourcefulness and finds a newer and a better +throne. Bill Hale is the sort of hero who would win any +girl’s love–a clever, capable chap with two fists and +a keen sense of humor. Whether he is matching wits +with suave Count Otto, romping with tiny Janos, fighting +for his life in the hunting lodge at Wolkensberg or +pleading for the love of his “princess who is all girl,” +he is a man. The story of his fight for all that counts +in life is told with a rush and sweep of action which +will hold the reader breathless. The dialogue, like that +in Mr. Corcoran’s other books, sparkles with humor, +but there is a certain pleasurable grimness in his method +of handling the Bolshevik which will strike an answering +note in every true American heart today.</p> + +<p>“A romance of vivid interest, a love story full of +youth and adventures that thrill. The dialogue is +unusually clever, the characters delightfully real, the +plot one that holds the reader’s interest to the end.” +<i>New York Sun.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>A FLOWER OF MONTEREY<br /><span class='fss'>A Romance of the Californias</span></p> +<p class='c'><i>By Katherine B. Hamill</i></p> +<p class='c'><i>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90</i></p> + +<p>The wealth, beauty and sunshine of the Californias in +the days when Spain controlled our western coast and +England looked with covetous eyes, form the setting +for this beautiful and artistic romance by a new author. +Mrs. Hamill has recreated vividly the little Spanish +town where the mission bells rang silvery at dawn, where +scarlet uniforms flashed in the stately drill of an afternoon +dress parade and beautiful women wore lace +mantillas. Pajarita, the “Flower of Monterey,” is an +American waif, cast up by the sea, who grows up among +the senors and senoritas, happy as the sunshine, but +with a healthy American disrespect for the Spanish +modes of life. Two men love her–Don Jose, the +<i>gobernador proprietaro</i> of all the Californias, and a +young American sailor-adventurer, John Asterly.</p> + +<p>John Asterly, the hero of A FLOWER OF MONTEREY, +came to the Californias from Boston. He is +perhaps thirty years old, adventurous and impetuous. +At a dance on the beach at Monterey, shortly after his +arrival in the Californias, he meets Pajarita, “the +Flower of Monterey,” and falls in love with the girl, +although she is promised to her benefactor, the Spanish +Governor. On the very night before her wedding, +Asterly tries to dissuade Pajarita from her marriage +with some one other than an American, and then the +romance, rivalry and adventure begin. The historical +setting of the story is correct and the romance unfolds +with dash and symmetry.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>WILD WINGS</p> +<p class='c'><i>Margaret R. Piper</i></p> +<p class='c fss'><i>Author of</i> “<i>Sylvia’s Experiment</i>,” “<i>The House<br />on the Hill</i>,” “<i>Sylvia Arden Decides</i>,” <i>etc.</i></p> +<p class='c'><i>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90</i></p> + +<p>In this “story of youth for grown-ups,” the vigorous, +happy Holiday youngsters who lived in the “House on +the Hill” develop into keen, lovable young people, +thoroughly worth knowing. To Tony, as brilliant and +beautiful as a girl can well be and still be human, comes +a successful theatrical career on Broadway, and a great +love, and Larry grows into the industrious, reliant +young doctor that one would expect him to be.</p> + +<p>Few writers today display the ability which Miss +Piper does to “grow up” a large family of boys and +girls, each with an individuality well developed and +attractive, and her Holiday family holds a distinctive +place in American fiction for young people today.</p> + +<p>As the charming characters work their way out of +problems which face all young people of buoyant spirits +and ambitions, WILD WINGS gives a definite message +as to the happiest relationship between old and young.</p> + +<p>“There is a world of human nature and neighborhood +contentment in Margaret R. Piper’s books of good +cheer. Her tales are well proportioned and subtly +strong in their literary aspects and quality.” <i>North +American, Philadelphia.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c fsl'>Selections from<br />The Page Company’s<br />List of Fiction</p> +<hr class='ad' /> +<p class='c'>WORKS OF<br /><span class='fsl'>ELEANOR H. PORTER</span></p> + +<p>POLLYANNA: The GLAD Book (500,000) (Trade Mark)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90</p> + +<p>Mr. Leigh Mitchell Hodges, The Optimist, in an editorial for +the <i>Philadelphia North American</i>, says: “And when, after +Pollyanna has gone away, you get her letter saying she is +going to take ‘eight steps’ tomorrow–well, I don’t know just +what you may do, but I know of one person who buried his +face in his hands and shook with the gladdest sort of sadness +and got down on his knees and thanked the Giver of all +gladness for Pollyanna.”</p> + +<p>POLLYANNA: The GLAD Book. <span class='sc'>Mary Pickford Edition</span> (Trade Mark)</p> + +<p>Illustrated with thirty-two half-tone reproductions of scenes +from the motion picture production, and a jacket with a portrait +of Mary Pickford in color.</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, $2.25</p> + +<p>While preparing “Pollyanna” for the screen, Miss Pickford +said enthusiastically that it was the best picture she had ever +made in her life, and the success of the picture on the screen +has amply justified her statement. Mary Pickford’s interpretation +of the beloved little heroine as shown in the illustrations, +adds immeasurably to the intrinsic charm of this popular story.</p> + +<p>POLLYANNA GROWS UP: The Second GLAD Book, Trade Mark (250,000)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90</p> + +<p>When the story of <span class='sc'>Pollyanna</span> told in The <i>Glad</i> Book was +ended, a great cry of regret for the vanishing “Glad Girl” +went up all over the country–and other countries, too. Now +<span class='sc'>Pollyanna</span> appears again, just as sweet and joyous-hearted, +more grown up and more lovable.</p> + +<p>“Take away frowns! Put down the worries! Stop fidgeting +and disagreeing and grumbling! Cheer up, everybody! <span class='sc'>Pollyanna</span> +has come back!”–<i>Christian Herald.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p>MISS BILLY (93rd thousand)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a painting by G. Tyng, $1.90</p> + +<p>“There is something altogether fascinating about ‘Miss +Billy,’ some inexplicable feminine characteristic that seems to +demand the individual attention of the reader from the moment +we open the book until we reluctantly turn the last page.”–<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + +<p>MISS BILLY’S DECISION (78th thousand)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a painting by Henry W. Moore, $1.90</p> + +<p>“The story is written in bright, clever style and has plenty +of action and humor. Miss Billy is nice to know and so are +her friends.”–<i>New Haven Leader.</i></p> + +<p>MISS BILLY–MARRIED (86th thousand)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a painting by W. Haskell Coffin, $1.90</p> + +<p>“Although Pollyanna is the only copyrighted glad girl, Miss +Billy is just as glad as the younger figure and radiates just +as much gladness. She disseminates joy so naturally that we +wonder why all girls are not like her.”–<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + +<p>SIX STAR RANCH (45th thousand)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated by R. Farrington Elwell, $1.90</p> + +<p>“‘Six Star Ranch’ bears all the charm of the author’s genius +and is about a little girl down in Texas who practices the +‘Pollyanna Philosophy’ with irresistible success. The book is +one of the kindliest things, if not the best, that the author of +the Pollyanna books has done. It is a welcome addition to the +fast-growing family of <i>Glad</i> Books.”–<i>Howard Russell Bangs +in the Boston Post.</i></p> + +<p>CROSS CURRENTS</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, illustrated, $1.50</p> + +<p>“To one who enjoys a story of life as it is to-day, with its +sorrows as well as its triumphs, this volume is sure to appeal.”–<i>Book +News Monthly.</i></p> + +<p>THE TURN OF THE TIDE</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, illustrated, $1.50</p> + +<p>“A very beautiful book showing the influence that went to +the development of the life of a dear little girl into a true and +good woman.”–<i>Herald and Presbyter, Cincinnati, Ohio.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>NOVELS BY<br /><span class='fsl'>ELIOT HARLOW ROBINSON</span></p> + +<p>A book which has established its author in the front rank of +American novelists.</p> + +<p>SMILES, A ROSE OF THE CUMBERLANDS (26th +thousand)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90</p> + +<p>Smiles is a girl who has already made many friends and +is destined to make many more. Her real name is Rose, but +the rough folk of the Cumberlands preferred their own way +of addressing her, for her smile was so bright and winning +that no other name suited her so well.</p> + +<p>“This is the best book I have ever illustrated for any publisher. +I have tried to make the pictures all that you hoped +for them.”–<i>H. Weston Taylor.</i></p> + +<p>E. J. Anderson, former managing Editor of the Boston +<i>Advertiser</i> and <i>Record</i>, is enthusiastic over the story and says:</p> + +<p>“I have read ‘Smiles’ in one reading. After starting it I +could not put it down. Never in my life have I read a book +like this that thrilled me half as much, and never have I seen +a more masterful piece of writing.”</p> + +<p>THE MAID OF MIRABELLE: A Romance of Lorraine</p> + +<p>Illustrated with reproductions of sketches made by the +author, and with a portrait of “The Maid of Mirabelle,” +from a painting by Neale Ordayne, on the cover.</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, $1.90</p> + +<p>A story of human and heart interest. The “Maid,” Joan, is +a personality just as real and lovable as was Smiles.</p> + +<p>“The spirit of all the book is the bubbling, the irrepressibly +indomitable, cheerful faith of the people, at their very best, +against the grave Quakerism from the United States standing +out grimly but faithfully. The tale is simply, but strongly +told.”–<i>Montreal Family Herald and Weekly Star.</i></p> + +<p>MAN PROPOSES; Or, The Romance of John Alden Shaw</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90</p> + +<p>“This is first of all a charming romance, distinguished by a +fine sentiment of loyalty to an ideal, by physical courage, indomitable +resolution to carry to success an altruistic undertaking, +a splendid woman’s devotion, and by a vein of spontaneous, +sparkling humor that offsets its more serious phases.”–<i>Springfield +Republican.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>THE ROMANCES OF<br /><span class='fsl'>L. M. MONTGOMERY</span></p> +<p class='c'>Each one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, $1.90</p> + +<p>ANNE OF GREEN GABLES (355th thousand)</p> + +<p>Illustrated by M. A. and W. A. J. Claus.</p> + +<p>“In ‘Anne of Green Gables’ you will find the dearest and +most moving and delightful child since the immortal Alice.”–<i>Mark +Twain in a letter to Francis Wilson.</i></p> + +<p>“I take it as a great test of the worth of the book that while +the young people are rummaging all over the house looking for +Anne, the head of the family has carried her off to read on his +way to town.”–<i>Bliss Carman.</i></p> + +<p>ANNE OF AVONLEA (255th thousand)</p> + +<p>Illustrated by George Gibbs.</p> + +<p>“Here we have a book as human as ‘David Harum,’ a +heroine who outcharms a dozen princesses of fiction, and reminds +you of some sweet girl you know, or knew back in the +days when the world was young.”–<i>San Francisco Bulletin.</i></p> + +<p>CHRONICLES OF AVONLEA (43d thousand)</p> + +<p>Illustrated by George Gibbs.</p> + +<p>“The author shows a wonderful knowledge of humanity, +great insight and warmheartedness in the manner in which +some of the scenes are treated, and the sympathetic way the +gentle peculiarities of the characters are brought out.”–<i>Baltimore +Sun.</i></p> + +<p>ANNE OF THE ISLAND (65th thousand)</p> + +<p>Illustrated by H. Weston Taylor.</p> + +<p>“It has been well worth while to watch the growing up of +Anne, and the privilege of being on intimate terms with her +throughout the process has been properly valued. The once +little girl of Green Gables should have a permanent fictional +place of high yet tender esteem.”–<i>New York Herald.</i></p> + +<p>FURTHER CHRONICLES OF AVONLEA (20th thousand).</p> + +<p>Illustrated by John Goss.</p> + +<p>Nathan Haskell Dole compares Avonlea to Longfellow’s +Grand Pre–and says, “There is something in these continued +chronicles of Avonlea like the delicate art which has made +Cranford a classic.”</p> + +<p>“The reader has dipped into but one or two stories when he +realizes that the author is the most natural story teller of the +day.”–<i>Salt Lake City Citizen.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'><i>WORKS OF L. M. MONTGOMERY (Continued)</i></p> + +<p>ANNE OF GREEN GABLES: The Mary Miles Minter Edition</p> + +<p>Illustrated with twenty-four half-tone reproductions of +scenes from the motion picture production, and a jacket in +colors with Miss Minter’s portrait.</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, $2.25</p> + +<p>“You pass from tears to laughter as the story unfolds, and +there is never a moment’s hesitation in admitting that Anne +has completely won your heart.”–<i>Joe Mitchell Chapple, +Editor, The National Magazine.</i></p> + +<p>“Mary Miles Minter’s ‘Anne’ on the screen is worthy of +Mark Twain’s definition of her as the ‘dearest and most moving +and delightful child since the immortal “Alice.”’”–<i>Cambridge +Tribune.</i></p> + +<p>KILMENY OF THE ORCHARD (52d thousand)</p> + +<p>Illustrated by George Gibbs. Cloth decorative, 12mo, $1.90</p> + +<p>“A purely idyllic love story full of tender sentiment, redolent +with the perfume of rose leaves and breathing of apple +blossoms and the sweet clover of twilight meadow-lands.”–<i>San +Francisco Bulletin.</i></p> + +<p>“A story born in the heart of Arcadia and brimful of the +sweet and simple life of the primitive environment.”–<i>Boston +Herald.</i></p> + +<p><b>THE STORY GIRL (46th thousand)</b></p> + +<p>Illustrated by George Gibbs. Cloth decorative, 12mo, $1.90</p> + +<p>“It will be read and, we venture to predict, reread many +times, for there is a freshness and sweetness about it which will +help to lift the load of care, to cheer the weary and to make +brighter still the life of the carefree and the happy.”–<i>Toronto, +Can., Globe.</i></p> + +<p>“‘The Story Girl’ is of decidedly unusual conception and +interest, and will rival the author’s earlier books in popularity.”–<i>Chicago +Western Trade Journal.</i></p> + +<p>THE GOLDEN ROAD (28th thousand)</p> + +<p>Illustrated by George Gibbs. Cloth decorative, 12mo, $1.90</p> + +<p>In which it is proven that “Life was a rose-lipped comrade +with purple flowers dripping from her fingers.”</p> + +<p>“It is a simple, tender tale, touched to higher notes, now +and then, by delicate hints of romance, tragedy and pathos. +Any true-hearted human being might read this book with enjoyment, +no matter what his or her age, social status, or +economic place.”–<i>Chicago Record-Herald.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>NOVELS BY<br /><span class='fsl'>ISLA MAY MULLINS</span></p> +<p class='c'>Each, one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.75</p> + +<p>THE BLOSSOM SHOP: A Story of the South</p> + +<p>“Frankly and wholly romance is this book, and lovable–as +is a fairy tale properly told.”–<i>Chicago Inter-Ocean.</i></p> + +<p>ANNE OF THE BLOSSOM SHOP: Or, the Growing Up of Anne Carter</p> + +<p>“A charming portrayal of the attractive life of the South, +refreshing as a breeze that blows through a pine forest.”–<i>Albany +Times-Union.</i></p> + +<p>ANNE’S WEDDING</p> + +<p>“Presents a picture of home life that is most appealing in +love and affection.”–<i>Every Evening, Wilmington, Del.</i></p> + +<p>THE MT. BLOSSOM GIRLS</p> + +<p>“In the writing of the book the author is at her best as a +story teller. It is a fitting climax to the series.”–<i>Reader.</i></p> + +<p>TWEEDIE: The Story of a True Heart</p> + +<p>“The story itself is full of charm and one enters right into +the very life of Tweedie and feels as if he had indeed been +lifted into an atmosphere of unselfishness, enthusiasm and +buoyant optimism.”–<i>Boston Ideas.</i></p> + +<hr class='ad' /> +<p class='c'>NOVELS BY<br /><span class='fsl'>DAISY RHODES CAMPBELL</span></p> + +<p>THE FIDDLING GIRL</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.65</p> + +<p>“A thoroughly enjoyable tale, written in a delightful vein of +sympathetic comprehension.”–<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> + +<p>THE PROVING OF VIRGINIA</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.65</p> + +<p>“A book which contributes so much of freshness, enthusiasm, +and healthy life to offset the usual offerings of modern fiction, +deserves all the praise which can be showered upon it.”–<i>Kindergarten +Review.</i></p> + +<p>THE VIOLIN LADY</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.65</p> + +<p>“The author’s style remains simple and direct, as in her preceding +books.”–<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<hr class='ad' /> +<p class='c'>DETECTIVE STORIES BY<br /><span class='fsl'>GEORGE BARTON</span></p> +<p class='c'>Each one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.75</p> + +<p>THE PEMBROKE MASON AFFAIR</p> + +<p>“Not until the end will the reader ever surmise how Mason +was murdered. An absorbing and thrilling story.”–<i>Cleveland +Topics.</i></p> + +<p>THE MYSTERY OF THE RED FLAME</p> + +<p>“An admirable story–an engaging story of love, mystery +and adventure.”–<i>The Philadelphia Inquirer.</i></p> + +<p>THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF BROMLEY +BARNES</p> + +<p>“It would be difficult to find a collection of more interesting +tales of mystery so well told. The author is crisp, incisive +and inspiring. The book is the best of its kind in recent years +and adds to the author’s already high reputation.”–<i>New +York Tribune.</i></p> + +<p>THE AMBASSADOR’S TRUNK</p> + +<p>“Mr. Barton is in the front rank of the writers of mystery +stories, and this is one of his best.”–<i>Pittsburgh Chronicle.</i></p> + +<p>“The book is of the good red-blood type, with few dull lines +and stirring action and episodes in almost every page.”–<i>Montreal +Herald.</i></p> + +<hr class='ad' /> +<p class='c'>BUSINESS NOVELS BY<br /><span class='fsl'>HAROLD WHITEHEAD</span></p> +<p class='c'><i>Professor of Sales Relations, The College of Business<br />Administration, Boston University</i></p> +<p class='c'>Each one volume, cloth, 12mo, illustrated, $1.75</p> + +<p>DAWSON BLACK, RETAIL MERCHANT</p> + +<p>“Contains much that it would profit a young merchant to +know and its fictional interest makes a strong appeal.”–<i>New +York Tribune.</i></p> + +<p>THE BUSINESS CAREER OF PETER FLINT</p> + +<p>“Peter Flint is certainly a marvel.... His career reveals +a most remarkable metamorphosis from incapacity, stubbornness, +and what seemed a chronic inclination to fall down on +every job which he undertook, to an amazing exposition of +business capacity and skill.”–<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>NOVELS BY<br /><span class='fsl'>MARGARET R. PIPER</span></p> + +<p>SYLVIA’S EXPERIMENT: The Cheerful Book (Trade Mark)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color $1.75</p> + +<p>“An atmosphere of good spirits pervades the book; the +humor that now and then flashes across the page is entirely +natural.”–<i>Boston Post.</i></p> + +<p>SYLVIA OF THE HILL TOP: The Second Cheerful Book (Trade Mark)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color $1.75</p> + +<p>“There is a world of human nature and neighborhood contentment +and quaint quiet humor in Margaret R. Piper’s second +book of good cheer.”–<i>Philadelphia North American.</i></p> + +<p>“Sylvia proves practically that she is a messenger of joy to +humanity.”–<i>The Post Express, Rochester, N. Y.</i></p> + +<p>SYLVIA ARDEN DECIDES: The Third Cheerful Book (Trade Mark)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color $1.75</p> + +<p>“Its ease of style, its rapidity, its interest from page to page, +are admirable; and it shows that inimitable power–the storyteller’s +gift of verisimilitude. Its sureness and clearness are +excellent, and its portraiture clear and pleasing.”–<i>The Reader.</i></p> + +<hr class='ad' /> +<p class='c'>FICTION FOR YOUNGER READERS BY<br /><span class='fsl'>MARGARET R. PIPER</span></p> + +<p>THE HOUSE ON THE HILL</p> + +<p>By <span class='sc'>Margaret R. Piper</span>.</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.75</p> + +<p>“‘The House on the Hill’ presents higher ideals of service +and life for boys and girls, and the charming characters +worked their way out of problems which face all young people +of buoyant spirits and ambition.”–<i>Buffalo News.</i></p> + +<p>“The story is a delightful one, with all kinds of interesting +adventures and characters.”–<i>Sunday Leader.</i></p> + +<p>THE PRINCESS AND THE CLAN</p> + +<p>By <span class='sc'>Margaret R. Piper</span>.</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, illustrated by John Goss $1.75</p> + +<p>“This is a delightful story for young and old, wholesome +and uplifting. The chief charm of the story lies in its simplicity,”–<i>Philadelphia +North American.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>NOVELS BY<br /><span class='fsl'>MARY ELLEN CHASE</span></p> + +<p>THE GIRL FROM THE BIG HORN COUNTRY</p> + +<p>Cloth, 12mo, illustrated by E. Farrington Elwell, $1.75</p> + +<p>“‘The Girl from the Big Horn Country’ tells how Virginia +Hunter, a bright, breezy, frank-hearted ‘girl of the Golden +West’ comes out of the Big Horn country of Wyoming to the +old Bay State. Then things begin, when Virginia–who feels +the joyous, exhilarating call of the Big Horn wilderness and +the outdoor life–attempts to become acclimated and adopt +good old New England ‘ways.’”–<i>Critic.</i></p> + +<p>VIRGINIA, OF ELK CREEK VALLEY</p> + +<p>Cloth, 12mo, illustrated by E. Farrington Elwell, $1.75</p> + +<p>“This story is fascinating, alive with constantly new and +fresh interests and every reader will enjoy the novel for its +freshness, its novelty and its inspiring glimpses of life with +nature.”–<i>The Editor.</i></p> + +<hr class='ad' /> +<p class='c'>NOVELS BY OTHER AUTHORS</p> + +<p>THE GOLDEN DOG. A Romance of Quebec</p> + +<p>By <span class='sc'>William Kirby</span>. (45th thousand.)</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated by J. W. Kennedy, $1.90</p> + +<p>“A powerful romance of love, intrigue and adventure in the +times of Louis XV and Madame de Pompadour.”–<i>Boston +Herald.</i></p> + +<p>SHE STANDS ALONE</p> + +<p>Being the story of Pilate’s wife.</p> + +<p>By <span class='sc'>Mark Ashton</span>.</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.75</p> + +<p>Few novels of the present day can stand comparison with +this remarkable book, which must be ranked in modern literature +dealing with the early Christian era as only second to +“Ben Hur.”</p> + +<p>THE ROAD TO LE RÊVE</p> + +<p>By <span class='sc'>Brewer Corcoran</span>.</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated by H. Weston Taylor, $1.90</p> + +<p>“A romance of vivid interest, a love story full of youth, the +great outdoors and adventures that thrill. The dialogue is +unusually clever, the characters delightfully real, the plot one +that holds the reader’s interest to the end.”–<i>New York Sun.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>THE FAMOUS SEA STORIES OF<br /><span class='fsl'>HERMAN MELVILLE</span></p> + +<p>MOBY DICK; Or, The White Whale</p> + +<p>TYPEE. A Real Romance of the South Sea</p> + +<p>OMOO. A Narrative of Adventures in the South +Seas; a sequel to TYPEE</p> + +<p>WHITE JACKET; Or, The World on a Man-of-War</p> + +<p>Each one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated $1.90</p> + +<p>The recent centenary of Herman Melville created renewed +interest in his famous sea stories.</p> + +<p>“Melville wove human element and natural setting into recitals +which aroused the enthusiasm of critics and sent a thrill +of delight through the reading public when first published, and +which both for form and matter have ever since held rank as +classics in the literature of travel.”–<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> + +<p class='c'>DETECTIVE STORIES BY<br /><span class='fsl'>ARTHUR MORRISON</span></p> +<p class='c'>Each one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.75</p> + +<p>THE GREEN DIAMOND</p> + +<p>“A clever, ingenious story, with just the right combination +of detective skill and mystery and with a touch of Oriental +mysticism.”–<i>Kansas City Star.</i></p> + +<p>THE RED TRIANGLE</p> + +<p>“The reader who has a grain of imagination may be defied +to lay this book down, once he has begun it, until the last word +has been reached.”–<i>Boston Journal.</i></p> + +<p>“It is a splendid story of the kind that cannot fail to interest.”–<i>Detroit +Journal.</i></p> + +<p>THE CHRONICLES OF MARTIN HEWITT</p> + +<p>“The story is told in a forceful, straightforward style, which +gives it impressive realism.”–<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> + +<p>“The story is well-written, unique, quite out of the usual +order, and a vein of mystery running through it that is most +captivating.”–<i>Christian Intelligencer.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>HISTORICAL ROMANCES OF<br /><span class='fsl'>NATHAN GALLIZIER</span></p> + +<p>THE LEOPARD PRINCE</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, large 12mo, illustrated in color, $2.00</p> + +<p>“With a vividness that is electrifying and a mastery of +emotion that thrills, Mr. Gallizier has written this story of +Italy–a romance of Venice in the fourteenth century.”–<i>The +Lookout, Cincinnati, Ohio.</i></p> + +<p>UNDER THE WITCHES’ MOON</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, large 12mo, illustrated in color, $2.00</p> + +<p>“A highly colored romance of mediaeval Italy with a most +interesting background.”–<i>New York World.</i></p> + +<p>THE CRIMSON GONDOLA</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, large 12mo, illustrated in color, $2.00</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gallizier is unusually strong in the use of description, +and conveys vividly the gorgeous decadence and luxury of the +sybaritic city.”–<i>Los Angeles Sunday Times.</i></p> + +<p>THE HILL OF VENUS</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, large 12mo, illustrated in color, $2.00</p> + +<p>This is a vivid and powerful romance of the thirteenth century +in the times of the great Ghibelline wars.</p> + +<p>“It is vibrant with action and overflowing with human emotions +throughout.”–<i>Wilmington Every Evening.</i></p> + +<p>THE COURT OF LUCIFER</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, large 12mo, illustrated in color, $2.00</p> + +<p>“The book is breathless reading, as much for the adventures, +the pageants, the midnight excursions of the minor characters, +as for the love story of the prince and Donna Lucrezia.”–<i>Boston +Transcript.</i></p> + +<p>THE SORCERESS OF ROME</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, large 12mo, illustrated in color, $2.00</p> + +<p>“A splendid bit of old Roman mosaic, or a gorgeous piece of +tapestry. Otto is a striking and pathetic figure. Description +of the city, the gorgeous ceremonials of the court and the revels +are a series of wonderful pictures.”–<i>Cincinnati Enquirer.</i></p> + +<p>CASTEL DEL MONTE</p> + +<p>Cloth decorative, large 12mo, illustrated, $2.00</p> + +<p>“There is color; there is sumptuous word-painting in these +pages; the action is terrific at times; vividness and life are in +every part; and brilliant descriptions entertain the reader and +give a singular fascination to the tale.”–<i>Grand Rapids +Herald.</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>WORKS OF<br /><span class='fsl'>GABRIELE D’ANNUNZIO</span></p> + +<p>Signor d’Annunzio is known throughout the world as a poet +and a dramatist, but above all as a novelist, for it is in his +novels that he is at his best. In poetic thought and graceful +expression he has few equals among the writers of the day.</p> + +<p>He is engaged on a most ambitious work–nothing less than +the writing of nine novels which cover the whole field of human +sentiment. This work he has divided into three trilogies, and +five of the nine books have been published. It is to be regretted +that other labors have interrupted the completion of +the series.</p> + +<p>“This book is realistic. Some say that it is brutally so. +But the realism is that of Flaubert, and not of Zola. There +is no plain speaking for the sake of plain speaking. Every +detail is justified in the fact that it illuminates either the +motives or the actions of the man and woman who here stand +revealed. It is deadly true. The author holds the mirror up +to nature, and the reader, as he sees his own experiences duplicated +in passage after passage, has something of the same +sensation as all of us know on the first reading of George +Meredith’s ‘Egoist.’ Reading these pages is like being out in +the country on a dark night in a storm. Suddenly a flash of +lightning comes and every detail of your surroundings is +revealed.”–<i>Review of “The Triumph of Death” in the New +York Evening Sun.</i></p> + +<p>The volumes published are as follows. Each 1 vol., library +12mo, cloth, $1.75</p> + +<p class='c'><i>THE ROMANCES OF THE ROSE</i></p> + +<p>THE CHILD OF PLEASURE (<span class='sc'>Il Piacere</span>)<br />THE INTRUDER (<span class='sc'>L’Innocente</span>)<br />THE TRIUMPH OF DEATH (<span class='sc'>Il Trionfo della Morte</span>)</p> + +<p class='c'><i>THE ROMANCES OF THE LILY</i></p> + +<p>THE MAIDENS OF THE ROCKS (<span class='sc'>Le Vergini delle Rocce</span>)</p> + +<p class='c'><i>THE ROMANCES OF THE POMEGRANATE</i></p> + +<p>THE FLAME OF LIFE (<span class='sc'>Il Fuoco</span>)</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Triumph of Virginia Dale, by John Francis, Jr. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRIUMPH OF VIRGINIA DALE *** + +***** This file should be named 34575-h.htm or 34575-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/5/7/34575/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Roger Frank and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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