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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Peter, by F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+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: Peter
+       A Novel of Which He is Not the Hero
+
+Author: F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+Release Date: October, 2003  [Etext #4516]
+Posting Date: January 14, 2010
+Last Updated: June 20, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PETER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PETER
+
+A Novel of Which He is Not the Hero
+
+By F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Peter was still poring over his ledger one dark afternoon in December,
+his bald head glistening like a huge ostrich egg under the flare of the
+overhead gas jets, when Patrick, the night watchman, catching sight of
+my face peering through the outer grating, opened the door of the Bank.
+
+The sight so late in the day was an unusual one, for in all the years
+that I have called at the Bank--ten, now--no, eleven since we first knew
+each other--Peter had seldom failed to be ready for our walk uptown when
+the old moon-faced clock high up on the wall above the stove pointed at
+four.
+
+"I thought there was something up!" I cried. "What is it, Peter--balance
+wrong?"
+
+He did not answer, only waved his hand in reply, his bushy gray eyebrows
+moving slowly, like two shutters that opened and closed, as he scanned
+the lines of figures up and down, his long pen gripped tight between his
+thin, straight lips, as a dog carries a bone.
+
+I never interrupt him when his brain is nosing about like this; it is
+better to keep still and let him ferret it out. So I sat down outside
+the curved rail with its wooden slats backed by faded green curtains,
+close to the big stove screened off at the end of the long room, fixed
+one eye on the moon-face and the other on the ostrich egg, and waited.
+
+There are no such banks at the present time--were no others then, and
+this story begins not so very many years' ago--A queer, out-of-date,
+mouldy old barn of a bank, you would say, this Exeter--for an
+institution wielding its influence. Not a coat of paint for half a
+century; not a brushful of whitewash for goodness knows how much longer.
+As for the floor, it still showed the gullies and grooves, with here
+and there a sturdy knot sticking up like a nut on a boiler, marking the
+track of countless impatient depositors and countless anxious borrowers,
+it may be, who had lock-stepped one behind the other for fifty years
+or more, in their journey from the outer door to the windows where the
+Peters of the old days, and the Peter of the present, presided over the
+funds entrusted to their care.
+
+Well enough in its day, you might have said, with a shrug, as you looked
+over its forlorn interior. Well enough in its day! Why, man, old John
+Astor, James Beekman, Rhinelander Stewart, Moses Grinnell, and a lot of
+just such worthies--men whose word was as good as their notes--and
+whose notes were often better than the Government's, presided over its
+destinies, and helped to stuff the old-fashioned vault with wads of
+gilt-edged securities--millions in value if you did but know it--and
+making it what it is to-day. If you don't believe the first part of my
+statement, you've only to fumble among the heap of dusty ledgers piled
+on top of the dusty shelves; and if you doubt the latter part, then try
+to buy some of the stock and see what you have to pay for it. Although
+the gas was turned off in the directors' room, I could still see
+from where I sat the very mahogany table under which these same
+ruffle-shirted, watch-fobbed, snuff-taking old fellows tucked their
+legs when they decided on who should and who should not share the bank's
+confidence.
+
+And the side walls and surroundings were none the less shabby and quite
+as dilapidated. Even the windows had long since given up the fight
+to maintain a decent amount of light, and as for the grated opening
+protected by iron shutters which would have had barely room to swing
+themselves clear of the building next door, no Patrick past or present
+had ever dared loosen their bolts for a peep even an inch wide into the
+canyon below, so gruesome was the collection of old shoes, tin cans,
+broken bottles and battered hats which successive generations had
+hurried into the narrow un-get-at-able space that lay between the two
+structures.
+
+Indeed the only thing inside or out of this time-worn building which the
+most fertile of imaginations could consider as being at all up to date
+was the clock. Not its face--that was old-timey enough with its sun,
+moon and stars in blue and gold, and the name of the Liverpool maker
+engraved on its enamel; nor its hands, fiddle-shaped and stiff, nor
+its case, which always reminded me of a coffin set up on end awaiting
+burial--but its strike. Whatever divergences the Exeter allowed itself
+in its youth, or whatever latitude or longitude it had given its
+depositors, and that, we may be sure, was precious little so long as
+that Board of Directors was alive, there was no wabbling or wavering, no
+being behind time, when the hour hand of the old clock reached three and
+its note of warning rang out.
+
+Peter obeyed the ominous sound and closed his Teller's window with a
+gentle bang. Patrick took notice and swung to the iron grating of the
+outer door. You might peer in and beg ever so hard--unless, of course,
+you were a visitor like myself, and even then Peter would have to give
+his consent--you might peer through, I say, or tap on the glass, or you
+might plead that you were late and very sorry, but the ostrich egg never
+turned in its nest nor did the eyebrows vibrate. Three o'clock was three
+o'clock at the Exeter, and everybody might go to the devil--financially,
+of course--before the rule would be broken. Other banks in panicky
+times might keep a side door open until four, five or six--that is, the
+bronze-rail, marble-top, glass-front, certify-your-checks-as-early-as-
+ten-in-the-morning-without-a-penny-on-deposit kind of banks--but not the
+Exeter--that is, not with Peter's consent--and Peter was the Exeter so
+far as his department was concerned--and had been for nearly thirty
+years--twenty as bookkeeper, five as paying teller and five as receiving
+teller.
+
+And the regularity and persistency of this clock! Not only did it
+announce the hours, but it sounded the halves and quarters, clearing its
+throat with a whirr like an admonitory cough before each utterance.
+I had samples of its entire repertoire as I sat there:
+
+One...two...three...four...five--then half an hour later a whir-r and a
+single note. "Half-past five," I said to myself. "Will Peter never find
+that mistake?" Once during the long wait the night watchman shifted his
+leg--he was on the other side of the stove--and once Peter reached up
+above his head for a pile of papers, spreading them out before him under
+the white glare of the overhead light, then silence again, broken only
+by the slow, dogged tock-tick, tock-tick, or the sagging of a hot coal
+adjusting itself for the night.
+
+Suddenly a cheery voice rang out and Peter's hands shot up above his
+head.
+
+"Ah, Breen & Co.! One of those plaguey sevens for a nine. Here we are!
+Oh, Peter Grayson, how often have I told you to be careful! Ah, what
+a sorry block of wood you carry on your shoulders. I won't be a minute
+now, Major." A gratuitous compliment on the part of my friend, I being
+a poor devil of a contractor without military aspirations of any kind.
+"Well, well, how could I have been so stupid. Get ready to close up,
+Patrick. No, thank you, Patrick, my coat's inside; I'll fetch it."
+
+He was quite another man now, closing the great ledger with a bang;
+shouldering it as Moses did the Tables of the Law, and carrying it into
+the big vault behind him--big enough to back a buggy into had the great
+door been wider--shooting the bolts, whirring the combination into
+so hopeless and confused a state that should even the most daring and
+expert of burglars have tried his hand or his jimmy on its steel plating
+he would have given up in despair (that is unless big Patrick fell
+asleep--an unheard-of occurrence) and all with such spring and
+joyousness of movement that had I not seen him like this many times
+before I would have been deluded into the belief that the real Peter
+had been locked up in the dismal vault with the musty books and that an
+entirely different kind of Peter was skipping about outside.
+
+But that was nothing to the air with which he swept his papers into the
+drawer of his desk, brushed away the crumpled sheets upon which he
+had figured his balance, and darted to the washstand behind the narrow
+partition. Nor could it be compared to the way in which he stripped
+off his black bombazine office-coat with its baggy pockets--quite a
+disreputable-looking coat I must say--taking it by the nape of the neck,
+as if it were some loathsome object to be got rid of, and hanging it
+upon a hook behind him; nor to the way in which he pulled up his shirt
+sleeves and plunged his white, long-fingered, delicately modeled hands
+into the basin, as if cleanliness were a thing to be welcomed as a
+part of his life. These carefully dried, each finger by itself--not
+forgetting the small seal ring on the little one--he gave an extra
+polish to his glistening pate with the towel, patted his fresh,
+smooth-shaven cheeks with an unrumpled handkerchief which he had
+taken from his inside pocket, carefully adjusted his white neck-cloth,
+refastening the diamond pin--a tiny one but clear as a baby's tear--put
+on his frock-coat with its high collar and flaring tails, took down
+his silk hat, gave it a flourish with his handkerchief, unhooked his
+overcoat from a peg behind the door (a gray surtout cut something like
+the first Napoleon's) and stepped out to where I sat.
+
+You would never have put him down as being sixty years of age had you
+known him as well as I did--and it is a great pity you didn't. Really,
+now that I come to think of it, I never did put him down as being of any
+age at all. Peter Grayson and age never seemed to have anything to do
+with each other. Sometimes when I have looked in through the Receiving
+Teller's window and have passed in my book--I kept my account at the
+Exeter--and he has lifted his bushy shutters and gazed at me suddenly
+with his merry Scotch-terrier eyes, I have caught, I must admit, a line
+of anxiety, or rather of concentrated cautiousness on his face, which
+for the moment made me think that perhaps he was looking a trifle older
+than when I last saw him; but all this was scattered to the winds when I
+met him an hour afterward swinging up Wall Street with that cheery lift
+of the heels so peculiarly his own, a lift that the occupants of every
+office window on both sides of the street knew to be Peter's even when
+they failed to recognize the surtout and straight-brimmed high hat. Had
+any doubting Thomas, however, walked beside him on his way up Broadway
+to his rooms on Fifteenth Street, and had the quick, almost boyish lift
+of Peter's heels not entirely convinced the unbeliever of Peter's youth,
+all questions would have been at once disposed of had the cheery bank
+teller invited him into his apartment up three flights of stairs
+over the tailor's shop--and he would have invited him had he been his
+friend--and then and there forced him into an easy chair near the open
+wood fire, with some such remark as: "Down, you rascal, and sit close
+up where I can get my hands on you!" No--there was no trace of old age
+about Peter.
+
+He was ready now--hatted, coated and gloved--not a hint of the ostrich
+egg or shaggy shutters visible, but a well-preserved bachelor of forty
+or forty-five; strictly in the mode and of the mode, looking more like
+some stray diplomat caught in the wiles of the Street, or some retired
+magnate, than a modest bank clerk on three thousand a year. The next
+instant he was tripping down the granite steps between the rusty iron
+railings--on his toes most of the way; the same cheery spring in his
+heels, slapping his thin, shapely legs with his tightly rolled umbrella,
+adjusting his hat at the proper angle so that the well-trimmed side
+whiskers--the veriest little dabs of whiskers hardly an inch long--would
+show as well as the fringes of his grey hair.
+
+Not that he was anxious to conceal these slight indications of advancing
+years, nor did he have a spark of cheap personal vanity about him, but
+because it was his nature always to put his best foot foremost and keep
+it there; because, too, it behooved him in manner, dress and morals, to
+maintain the standards he had set for himself, he being a Grayson, with
+the best blood of the State in his veins, and with every table worth
+dining at open to him from Fourteenth Street to Murray Hill, and beyond.
+
+"Now, it's all behind me, my dear boy," he cried, as we reached the
+sidewalk and turned our faces up Wall Street toward Broadway. "Fifteen
+hours to live my own life! No care until ten o'clock to-morrow.
+Lovely life, my dear Major, when you think of it. Ah, old Micawber
+was right--income one pound, expense one pound ten shillings; result,
+misery: income one pound ten, expense one pound, outcome, happiness!
+What a curse this Street is to those who abuse its power for good; half
+of them trying to keep out of jail and the other half fighting to keep
+out of the poor-house! And most of them get so little out of it. Just as
+I can detect a counterfeit bill at sight, my boy, so can I put my ringer
+on these money-getters when the poison of money-getting for money's sake
+begins to work in their veins. I don't mean the laying up of money for a
+rainy day, or the providing for one's family. Every man should lay up a
+six-months' doctor's bill, just as every man should lay up money enough
+to keep his body out of Potter's Field. It's laying up the SURPLUS that
+hurts."
+
+Peter had his arm firmly locked in mine now.
+
+"Now that concern of Breen & Company, where I found my error, are no
+better than the others. They are new to this whirlpool, but they will
+soon get in over their heads. I think it is only the third or fourth
+year since they started business, but they are already floating all
+sorts of schemes, and some of them--if you will permit me in confidence,
+strictly in confidence, my dear boy--are rather shady, I think: at least
+I judge so from their deposits."
+
+"What are they, bankers?" I ventured. I had never heard of the firm; not
+an extraordinary thing in my case when bankers were concerned.
+
+Peter laughed:
+
+"Yes, BANKERS--all in capital letters--the imitation kind. Breen
+came from some place out of town and made a lucky hit in his first
+year--mines or something--I forget what. Oh, but you must know that it
+takes very little now-a-days to make a full-fledged banker. All you have
+to do is to hoist in a safe--through the window, generally, with the
+crowd looking on; rail off half the office; scatter some big ledgers
+over two or three newly varnished desks; move in a dozen arm-chairs, get
+a ticker, a black-board and a boy with a piece of chalk; be pleasant
+to every fellow you meet with his own or somebody else's money in his
+pocket, and there you are. But we won't talk of these things--it isn't
+kind, and, really, I hardly know Breen, and I'm quite sure he wouldn't
+know me if he saw me, and he's a very decent gentleman in many ways, I
+hear. He never overdraws his account, any way--never tries--and that's
+more than I can say for some of his neighbors."
+
+The fog, which earlier in the afternoon had been but a blue haze,
+softening the hard outlines of the street, had now settled down in
+earnest, choking up the doorways, wiping out the tops of the buildings,
+their facades starred here and there with gas-jets, and making a smudged
+drawing of the columns of the Custom House opposite.
+
+"Superb, are they not?" said Peter, as he wheeled and stood looking at
+the row of monoliths supporting the roof of the huge granite pile, each
+column in relief against the dark shadows of the portico. "And they
+are never so beautiful to me, my boy, as when the ugly parts of the old
+building are lost in the fog. Follow the lines of these watchmen of the
+temple! These grave, dignified, majestic columns standing out in the
+gloom keeping guard! But it is only a question of time--down they'll
+come! See if they don't!"
+
+"They will never dare move them," I protested. "It would be too great a
+sacrilege." The best way to get Peter properly started is never to agree
+with him.
+
+"Not move them! They will break them up for dock-filling before ten
+years are out. They're in the way, my boy; they shut out the light;
+can't hang signs on them; can't plaster them over with theatre bills; no
+earthly use. 'Wall Street isn't Rome or any other excavated ruin; it's
+the centre of the universe'--that's the way the fellows behind these
+glass windows talk." Here Peter pointed to the offices of some prominent
+bankers, where other belated clerks were still at work under shaded
+gas-jets. "These fellows don't want anything classic; they want
+something that'll earn four per cent."
+
+We were now opposite the Sub-Treasury, its roof lost in the settling
+fogs, the bronze figure of the Father of His Country dominating the
+flight of marble steps and the adjacent streets.
+
+Again Peter wheeled; this time he lifted his hat to the statue.
+
+"Good evening, your Excellency," he said in a voice mellowed to the same
+respectful tone with which he would have addressed the original in the
+flesh.
+
+Suddenly he loosened his arm from mine and squared himself so he could
+look into my face.
+
+"I notice that you seldom salute him, Major, and it grieves me," he said
+with a grim smile.
+
+I broke into a laugh. "Do you think he would feel hurt if I didn't."
+
+"Of course he would, and so should you. He wasn't put there for
+ornament, my boy, but to be kept in mind, and I want to tell you that
+there's no place in the world where his example is so much needed as
+right here in Wall Street. Want of reverence, my dear boy"--here he
+adjusted his umbrella to the hollow of his arm--"is our national sin.
+Nobody reveres anything now-a-days. Much as you can do to keep people
+from running railroads through your family vaults, and, as to one's
+character, all a man needs to get himself battered black and blue, is to
+try to be of some service to his country. Even our presidents have to
+be murdered before we stop abusing them. By Jove! Major, you've GOT to
+salute him! You're too fine a man to run to seed and lose your respect
+for things worth while. I won't have it, I tell you! Off with your hat!"
+
+I at once uncovered my head (the fog helped to conceal my own identity,
+if it didn't Peter's) and stood for a brief instant in a respectful
+attitude.
+
+There was nothing new in the discussion. Sometimes I would laugh at him;
+sometimes I would only touch my hat in unison; sometimes I let him
+do the bowing alone, an act on his part which never attracted
+attention--looking more as if he had accosted some passing friend.
+
+We had reached Broadway by this time and were crossing the street
+opposite Trinity Churchyard.
+
+"Come over here with me," he cried, "and let us look in through the iron
+railings. The study of the dead is often more profitable than knowledge
+of the living. Ah, the gate is open! It is not often I am here at this
+time, and on a foggy afternoon. What a noble charity, my boy, is a
+fog--it hides such a multitude of sins--bad architecture for one," and
+he laughed softly.
+
+I always let Peter run on--in fact I always encourage him to run on. No
+one I know talks quite in the same way; many with a larger experience
+of life are more profound, but none have the personal note which
+characterizes the old fellow's discussions.
+
+"And how do you suppose these by-gones feel about what is going on
+around them?" he rattled on, tapping the wet slab of a tomb with the end
+of his umbrella. "And not only these sturdy patriots who lie here, but
+the queer old ghosts who live in the steeple?" he added, waving his hand
+upward to the slender spire, its cross lost in the fog. "Yes, ghosts and
+goblins, my boy. You don't believe it?--I do--or I persuade myself I
+do, which is better. Sometimes I can see them straddling the chimes when
+they ring out the hours, or I catch them peeping out between the slats
+of the windows away up near the cross. Very often in the hot afternoons
+when you are stretching your lazy body under the tents of the mighty--"
+(Peter referred to some friends of mine who owned a villa down on Long
+Island, and were good enough to ask me down for a week in August) "I
+come up here out of the rush and sit on these old tombstones and talk
+to these old fellows--both kinds--the steeple boys and the old cronies
+under the sod. You never come, I know. You will when you're my age."
+
+I had it in my mind to tell him that the inside of a dry tent had some
+advantages over the outside of a damp tomb, so far as entertaining one's
+friends, even in hot weather, was concerned, but I was afraid it might
+stop the flow of his thoughts, and checked myself.
+
+"It is not so much the rest and quiet that delights me, as the feeling
+that I am walled about for the moment and protected; jerked out of the
+whirlpool, as it were, and given a breathing spell. On these afternoons
+the old church becomes a church once more--not a gate to bar out the
+rush of commercialism. See where she stands--quite out to the very curb,
+her warning finger pointing upward. 'Thus far shalt thou come, and no
+farther,' she cries out to the Four Per Cents. 'Hug up close to me, you
+old fellows asleep in your graves; get under my lea. Let us fight it out
+together, the living and the dead!' And now hear these abominable Four
+Per Cents behind their glass windows: 'No place for a church,' they say.
+'No place for the dead! Property too valuable. Move it up town. Move it
+out in the country--move it any where so you get it out of our way. We
+are the Great Amalgamated Crunch Company. Into our maw goes respect for
+tradition, reverence for the dead, decency, love of religion, sentiment,
+and beauty. These are back numbers. In their place, we give you
+something real and up-to-date from basement to flagstaff, with fifty
+applicants on the waiting list. If you don't believe it read our
+prospectus!'"
+
+Peter had straightened and was standing with his hand lifted above
+his head, as if he were about to pronounce a benediction. Then he said
+slowly, and with a note of sadness in his voice:
+
+"Do you wonder, now, my boy, why I touch my hat to His Excellency?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+All the way up Broadway he kept up his good-natured tirade, railing at
+the extravagance of the age, at the costly dinners, equipages, dress
+of the women, until we reached the foot of the dilapidated flight of
+brown-stone steps leading to the front door of his home on Fifteenth
+Street. Here a flood of gas light from inside a shop in the basement
+brought into view the figure of a short, squat, spectacled little man
+bending over a cutting-table, a pair of shears in his hand.
+
+"Isaac is still at work," he cried. "If we were not so late we'd go in
+and have a word with him. Now there's a man who has solved the problem,
+my boy. Nobody will ever coax Isaac Cohen up to Fifth Avenue and into
+a 'By appointment to His Majesty' kind of a tailor shop. Just pegs away
+year after year--he was here long before I came--supporting his family,
+storing his mind with all sorts of rare knowledge. Do you know he's one
+of the most delightful men you will meet in a day's journey?"
+
+"No--never knew anything of the kind. Thought he was just plain tailor."
+
+"And an intimate friend of many of the English actors who come over
+here?" continued Peter.
+
+"I never heard a word about it" I answered meekly; Peter's acquaintances
+being too varied and too numerous for me to keep track of. That he
+should have a tailor among them as learned and wise as Solomon, and with
+friends all over the globe, was quite to be expected.
+
+"Well, he is," answered Peter. "They always hunt him up the first thing
+they do. He lived in London for years and made their costumes. There's
+no one, I assure you, I am more glad to see when he makes an excuse to
+rap at my door. You'll come up, of course, until I read my letters."
+
+"No, I'll keep on to my rooms and meet you later at the club."
+
+"You'll do nothing of the kind, you restless mortal. You'll come
+upstairs with me until I open my mail. It's really like touching the
+spring of a Jack-in-the-box, this mail of mine--all sorts of things pop
+out, generally the unexpected. Mighty interesting, I tell you," and
+with a cheery wave of the hand to his friend Isaac, whose eyes had been
+looking streetward at the precise moment, Peter pushed me ahead of him
+up the worn marble steps flanked by the rust-eaten iron railing which
+led to the hallway and stairs, and so on up to his apartment.
+
+It was just the sort of house Peter, of all men in the world, would have
+picked out to live in--and he had been here for twenty years or more.
+Not only did the estimable Isaac occupy the basement, but Madame
+Montini, the dress-maker, had the first floor back; a real-estate agent
+made free with the first floor front, and a very worthy teacher of
+music, whose piano could be heard at all hours of the day, and far into
+the night, was paying rent for the second, both front and back. Peter's
+own apartments ran the whole length of the third floor, immediately
+under the slanting, low-ceiled garret, which was inhabited by the good
+Mrs. McGuffey, the janitress, who, in addition to her regular duties,
+took especial care of Peter's rooms. Adjoining these was a small
+apartment consisting of two rooms, connecting with Peter's suite by
+a door cut through for some former lodger. These were also under
+Mrs. McGuffey's special care and very good care did she take of them,
+especially when Peter's sister, Miss Felicia Grayson, occupied them for
+certain weeks in the year.
+
+These changes had all taken place in the time the old fellow had mounted
+the quaint stairs with the thin mahogany banisters, and yet Peter stayed
+on. "The gnarled pear tree in the back yard is so charming," he would
+urge in excuse, "especially in the spring, when the perfume of its
+blossoms fills the air," or, "the view overlooking Union Square is so
+delightful," or, "the fireplace has such a good draught." What mattered
+it who lived next door, or below, or overhead, for that matter, so that
+he was not disturbed--and he never was. The property, of course, had
+gone from bad to worse since the owner had died; the neighborhood had
+run down, and the better class of tenants down, up, and even across the
+street--had moved away, but none of these things had troubled Peter.
+
+And no wonder, when once you got inside the two rooms and looked about!
+
+There was a four-post bedstead with chintz curtains draped about
+the posts, that Martha Washington might have slept in, and a chintz
+petticoat which reached the floor and hid its toes of rollers, which the
+dear lady could have made with her own hands; there was a most ancient
+mahogany bureau to match, all brass fittings. There were easy chairs
+with restful arms within reach of tables holding lamps, ash receivers
+and the like; and rows and rows of books on open shelves edged with
+leather; not to mention engravings of distinguished men and old
+portraits in heavy gilt frames: one of his grandfather who fought in the
+Revolution, and another of his mother--this last by Rembrandt Peale--a
+dear old lady with the face of a saint framed in a head of gray hair,
+the whole surmounted by a cluster of silvery curls. There were quaint
+brass candelabra with square marble bases on each end of the mantel,
+holding candles showing burnt wicks in the day time and cheery lights at
+night; and a red carpet covering both rooms and red table covers and
+red damask curtains, and a lounge with a red afghan thrown over it; and
+last, but by no means least--in fact it was the most important thing
+in the sitting-room, so far as comfort was concerned--there was a big
+open-hearth Franklin, full of blazing red logs, with brass andirons and
+fender, and a draught of such marvellous suction that stray scraps of
+paper, to say nothing of uncommonly large sparks, had been known
+more than once to have been picked up in a jiffy and whirled into its
+capacious throat.
+
+Just the very background for dear old Peter, I always said, whenever
+I watched him moving about the cheery interior, pushing up a chair,
+lighting a fresh candle, or replacing a book on the shelf. What a
+half-length the great Sully would have made of him, with his high
+collar, white shirt-front and wonderful neck-cloth with its pleats and
+counterpleats, to say nothing of his rosy cheeks and bald head, the
+high light glistening on one of his big bumps of benevolence. And what a
+background of deep reds and warm mahoganys with a glint of yellow brass
+for contrast!
+
+Indeed, I have often thought that not only Peter's love of red, but much
+of Peter's quaintness of dress, had been suggested by some of the old
+portraits which lined the walls of his sitting-room--his grandfather,
+by Sully, among them; and I firmly believe, although I assure you I have
+never mentioned it to any human being before, that had custom permitted
+(the directors of his bank, perhaps), Peter would not only have indulged
+in the high coat-collar and quaint neck-cloths of his fathers, but would
+also have worn a dainty cue tied with a flowing black ribbon, always
+supposing, of course, that his hair had held out, and, what is more
+important, always supposing, that the wisp was long enough to hold on.
+
+The one article, however, which, more than any other one thing in his
+apartment, revealed his tastes and habits, was a long, wide, ample
+mahogany desk, once the property of an ancestor, which stood under
+the window in the front room. In this, ready to his hand, were drawers
+little and big, full of miscellaneous papers and envelopes; pigeon-holes
+crammed full of answered and unanswered notes, some with crests on them,
+some with plain wax clinging to the flap of the broken envelopes; many
+held together with the gum of the common world. Here, too, were bundles
+of old letters tied with tape; piles of pamphlets, quaint trays holding
+pens and pencils, and here too was always to be found, in summer or
+in winter, a big vase full of roses or blossoms, or whatever was in
+season--a luxury he never denied himself.
+
+To this desk, then, Peter betook himself the moment he had hung his gray
+surtout on its hook in the closet and disposed of his hat and umbrella.
+This was his up-town office, really, and here his letters awaited him.
+
+First came a notice of the next meeting of the Numismatic Society of
+which he was an honored member; then a bill for his semi-annual dues at
+the Century Club; next a delicately scented sheet inviting him to dine
+with the Van Wormleys of Washington Square, to meet an English lord and
+his lady, followed by a pressing letter to spend Sunday with friends
+in the country. Then came a long letter from his sister, Miss Felicia
+Grayson, who lived in the Genesee Valley and who came to New York every
+winter for what she was pleased to call "The Season" (a very remarkable
+old lady, this Miss Felicia Grayson, with a mind of her own, sections of
+which she did not hesitate to ventilate when anybody crossed her or her
+path, and of whom we shall hear more in these pages), together with the
+usual assortment of bills and receipts, the whole an enlivening
+record not only of Peter's daily life and range of taste, but of the
+limitations of his purse as well.
+
+One letter was reserved for the last. This he held in his hand until he
+again ran his eye over the pile before him. It was from Holker Morris
+the architect, a man who stood at the head of his profession.
+
+"Yes, Holker's handwriting," he said as he inserted the end of the paper
+cutter. "I wonder what the dear fellow wants now?" Here he ran his eye
+over the first page. "Listen, Major. What an extraordinary man... He's
+going to give a dinner, he says, to his draughtsmen... in his offices
+at the top of his new building, six stories up. Does the rascal think I
+have nothing to do but crawl up his stairs? Here, I'll read it to you."
+
+"'You, dear Peter:' That's just like Holker! He begins that way when he
+wants me to do something for him. 'No use saying you won't come, for I
+shall be around for you at seven o'clock with a club--'No, that's not
+it--he writes so badly--'with a cab.' Yes, that's it--'with a cab.' I
+wonder if he can drive me up those six flights of stairs? 'There'll
+be something to eat, and drink, and there will be fifty or more of my
+draughtsmen and former employees. I'm going to give them a dinner and a
+house-warming. Bring the Major if you see him. I have sent a note to his
+room, but it may not reach him. No dress suit, remember. Some of my men
+wouldn't know one if they saw it."
+
+As the letter dropped from Peter's hand a scraping of feet was heard at
+the hall door, followed by a cheery word from Mrs. McGuffey--she had her
+favorites among Peter's friends--and Holker Morris burst into the room.
+
+"Ah, caught you both!" he cried, all out of breath with his run
+upstairs, his hat still on his head. No one blew in and blew out
+of Peter's room (literally so) with the breeze and dash of the
+distinguished architect. "Into your coats, you two--we haven't a moment
+to spare. You got my letter, of course," he added, throwing back the
+cape of his raincoat.
+
+"Yes, Holker, just opened it!" cried Peter, holding out both hands to
+his guest. "But I'm not going. I am too old for your young fellows--take
+the Major and leave me behind."
+
+The architect grabbed Peter by the arm. "When did that mighty idea crack
+its way through that shell of yours, you tottering Methusaleh! Old!
+You're spryer than a frolicking lamb in March. You are coming, too,
+Major. Get into your coats and things!"
+
+"But Isaac is pressing my swallow-tail."
+
+"I don't mean your dress-coat, man--your OVERCOAT! Now I am sure you
+didn't read my letter? Some of my young fellows haven't got such a
+thing--too poor."
+
+"But look at YOURS!"
+
+"Yes, I had to slip into mine out of respect to the occasion; my boys
+wouldn't like it if I didn't. Sort of uniform to them, but they'd be
+mighty uncomfortable if you wore yours. Hurry up, we haven't a minute to
+lose."
+
+Peter had forced the architect into one of the big chairs by the fire
+by this time, and stood bending over him, his hands resting on Morris's
+broad shoulders.
+
+"Take the Major with you, that's a good fellow, and let me drop in about
+eleven o'clock," he pleaded, an expression on his face seen only when
+two men understand and love each other. "There's a letter from Felicia
+to attend to; she writes she is coming down for a couple of weeks, and
+then I've really had a devil of a day at the bank."
+
+"No, you old fraud, you can't wheedle me that way. I want you before
+everybody sits down, so my young chaps can look you over. Why, Peter,
+you're better than a whole course of lectures, and you mean something,
+you beggar! I tell you" (here he lifted himself from the depths of the
+chair and scrambled to his feet) "you've got to go if I have to tie
+your hands and feet and carry you downstairs on my back! And you, too,
+Major--both of you. Here's your overcoat--into it, you humbug!... the
+other arm. Is this your hat? Out you go!" and before I had stopped
+laughing--I had refused to crowd the cab--Morris had buttoned the
+surtout over Peter's breast, crammed the straight-brimmed hat over his
+eyes, and the two were clattering downstairs.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+
+Long before the two had reached the top floor of the building in which
+the dinner was to be given, they had caught the hum of the merrymakers,
+the sound bringing a smile of satisfaction to Peter's face, but it was
+when he entered the richly colored room itself, hazy with cigarette
+smoke, and began to look into the faces of the guests grouped about him
+and down the long table illumined by myriads of wax candles that all his
+doubts and misgivings faded into thin air. Never since his school days,
+he told me afterwards, had he seen so many boisterously happy young
+fellows grouped together. And not only young fellows, with rosy
+cheeks and bright eyes, but older men with thoughtful faces, who had
+relinquished for a day the charge of some one of the important buildings
+designed in the distinguished architect's office, and had spent the
+night on the train that they might do honor to their Chief.
+
+But it was when Morris, with his arm fast locked in his, began
+introducing him right and left as the "Guest of Honor of the Evening,"
+the two shaking hands first with one and then another, Morris breaking
+out into joyous salvos of welcome over some arrival from a distant city,
+or greeting with marked kindness and courtesy one of the younger
+men from his own office, that the old fellow's enthusiasm became
+uncontrollable.
+
+"Isn't it glorious, Holker!" he cried joyously, with uplifted hands.
+"Oh, I'm so glad I came! I wouldn't have missed this for anything in the
+world. Did you ever see anything like it? This is classic, my boy--it
+has the tang and the spice of the ancients."
+
+Morris's greeting to me was none the less hearty, although he had left
+me but half an hour before.
+
+"Late, as I expected, Major," he cried with out-stretched hand, "and
+serves you right for not sitting in Peter's lap in the cab. Somebody
+ought to sit on him once in a while. He's twenty years younger
+already. Here, take this seat alongside of me where you can keep him
+in order--they were at table when I entered. Waiter, bring back that
+bottle--Just a light claret, Major--all we allow ourselves."
+
+As the evening wore away the charm of the room grew upon me. Vistas hazy
+with tobacco smoke opened up; the ceiling lost in the fog gave one the
+impression of out-of-doors--like a roof-garden at night; a delusion made
+all the more real by the happy uproar. And then the touches here and
+there by men whose life had been the study of color and effects; the
+appointments of the table, the massing of flowers relieving the white
+cloth; the placing of shaded candles, so that only a rosy glow filtered
+through the room, softening the light on the happy faces--each scalp
+crowned with chaplets of laurel tied with red ribbons: an enchantment
+of color, form and light where but an hour before only the practical and
+the commonplace had held sway.
+
+No vestige of the business side of the offices remained. Peter pointed
+out to me a big plaster model of the State House, which filled one end
+of the room, and two great figures, original plaster casts, heroic in
+size, that Harding, the sculptor, had modelled for either side of the
+entrance of the building; but everything that smacked of T-square or
+scale was hidden from sight. In their place, lining the walls, stood a
+row of standards of red and orange silk, stretched on rods and supported
+by poles; the same patterns of banners which were carried before
+Imperial Caesars when they took an airing; and now emblazoned with the
+titles of the several structures conceived in the brain of Holker Morris
+and executed by his staff: the Imperial Library in Tokio; the great
+Corn Exchange covering a city block; the superb Art Museum crowning
+the highest hill in the Park; the beautiful chateau of the millionaire
+surrounded by thousands of acres of virgin forest; the spacious
+warehouses on the water front, and many others.
+
+With the passing of the flagons an electric current of good fellowship
+flashed around the circle. Stories that would have been received with
+but a bare smile at the club were here greeted with shouts of laughter.
+Bon-mots, skits, puns and squibs mouldy with age or threadbare with use,
+were told with a new gusto and welcomed with delight.
+
+Suddenly, and without any apparent reason, these burst forth a roar
+like that of a great orchestra with every instrument played at its
+loudest--rounds of applause from kettle-drums, trombones and big horns;
+screams of laughter from piccolos, clarionettes and flutes, buzzings of
+subdued talk by groups of bass viols and the lesser strings, the whole
+broken by the ringing notes of a song that soared for an instant clear
+of the din, only to be overtaken and drowned in the mighty shout of
+approval. This was followed by a stampede from the table; the banners
+were caught up with a mighty shout and carried around the room; Morris,
+boy for the moment, springing to his feet and joining in the uproar.
+
+The only guest who kept his chair, except Peter and myself, was a young
+fellow two seats away, whose eyes, brilliant with excitement, followed
+the merrymaking, but who seemed too much abashed, or too ill at ease,
+to join in the fun. I had noticed how quiet he was and wondered at the
+cause. Peter had also been watching the boy and had said to me that he
+had a good face and was evidently from out of town.
+
+"Why don't you get up?" Peter called to him at last. "Up with you, my
+lad. This is one of the times when every one of you young fellows should
+be on your feet." He would have grabbed a banner himself had any one
+given him the slightest encouragement.
+
+"I would, sir, but I'm out of it," said the young man with a deferential
+bow, moving to the empty seat next to Peter. He too had been glancing at
+Peter from time to time.
+
+"Aren't you with Mr. Morris?"
+
+"No, I wish I were. I came with my friend, Garry Minott, that young
+fellow carrying the banner with 'Corn Exchange' marked on it."
+
+"And may I ask, then, what you do?" continued Peter.
+
+The young fellow looked into the older man's kindly eyes--something in
+their expression implied a wish to draw him the closer--and said quite
+simply: "I don't do anything that is of any use, sir. Garry says that I
+might as well work in a faro bank."
+
+Peter leaned forward. For the moment the hubbub was forgotten as
+he scrutinized the young man, who seemed scarcely twenty-one, his
+well-knit, well-dressed body, his soft brown hair curled about his
+scalp, cleanly modelled ears, steady brown eyes, white teeth--especially
+the mobile lips which seemed quivering from some suppressed emotion--all
+telling of a boy delicately nurtured.
+
+"And do you really work in a faro bank?" Peter's knowledge of human
+nature had failed him for once.
+
+"Oh, no sir, that is only one of Garry's jokes. I'm clerk in a stock
+broker's office on Wall Street. Arthur Breen & Company. My uncle is head
+of the firm."
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it?" answered Peter in a relieved tone.
+
+"And now will you tell me what your business is, sir?" asked the young
+man. "You seem so different from the others."
+
+"Me! Oh, I take care of the money your gamblers win," replied Peter, at
+which they both laughed, a spark of sympathy being kindled between them.
+
+Then, seeing the puzzled expression on the boy's face, he added with
+a smile: "I'm Receiving Teller in a bank, one of the oldest in Wall
+Street."
+
+A look of relief passed over the young fellow's face.
+
+"I'm very glad, sir," he said, with a smile. "Do you know, sir, you look
+something like my own father--what I can remember of him--that is, he
+was--" The lad checked himself, fearing he might be discourteous. "That
+is, he had lost his hair, sir, and he wore his cravats like you, too. I
+have his portrait in my room."
+
+Peter leaned still closer to the speaker. This time he laid his hand on
+his arm. The tumult around him made conversation almost impossible. "And
+now tell me your name?"
+
+"My name is Breen, sir. John Breen. I live with my uncle."
+
+The roar of the dinner now became so fast and furious that further
+confidences were impossible. The banners had been replaced and every one
+was reseated, talking or laughing. On one side raged a discussion as to
+how far the decoration of a plain surface should go--"Roughing it," some
+of them called it. At the end of the table two men were wrangling as to
+whether the upper or the lower half of a tall structure should have
+its vertical lines broken; and, if so, by what. Further down high-keyed
+voices were crying out against the abomination of the flat roof on the
+more costly buildings; wondering whether some of their clients would
+wake up to the necessity of breaking the sky-line with something less
+ugly--even if it did cost a little more. Still a third group were in
+shouts of laughter over a story told by one of the staff who had just
+returned from an inspection trip west.
+
+Young Breen looked down the length of the table, watched for a moment
+a couple of draughtsmen who stood bowing and drinking to each other
+in mock ceremony out of the quaint glasses filled from the borrowed
+flagons, then glanced toward his friend Minott, just then the centre of
+a cyclone that was stirring the group midway the table.
+
+"Come over here, Garry," he called, half rising to his feet to attract
+his friend's attention.
+
+Minott waved his hand in answer, waited until the point of the story had
+been reached, and made his way toward Peter's end of the table.
+
+"Garry," he whispered, "I want to introduce you to Mr. Grayson--the very
+dearest old gentleman you ever met in your whole life. Sits right next
+to me."
+
+"What, that old fellow that looks like a billiard ball in a high
+collar?" muttered Minott with a twinkle in his eye. "We've been
+wondering where Mr. Morris dug him up."
+
+"Hush," said Breen--"he'll hear you."
+
+"All right, but hurry up. I must say he doesn't look near so bad when
+you get close to him."
+
+"Mr. Grayson, I want you to know my friend Garry Minott."
+
+Peter rose to his feet. "I DO know him," he said, holding out his hand
+cordially. "I've been knowing him all the evening. He's made most of
+the fun at his end of the table. You seem to have flaunted your Corn
+Exchange banner on the smallest provocation, Mr. Minott," and Peter's
+fingers gripped those of the young man.
+
+"That's because I've been in charge of the inside work. Great dinner,
+isn't it, Mr. Grayson. But it's Britton who has made the dinner. He's
+more fun than a Harlem goat with a hoopskirt. See him--that's Brit with
+a red head and blue neck-tie. He's been all winter in Wisconsin looking
+after some iron work and has come back jam full of stories." The dignity
+of Peter's personality had evidently not impressed the young man,
+judging from the careless tone with which he addressed him. "And how are
+you getting on, Jack--glad you came, ar'n't you?" As he spoke he laid his
+hand affectionately on the boy's shoulder. "Didn't I tell you it would
+be a corker? Out of sight, isn't it? Everything is out of sight around
+our office." This last remark was directed to Peter in the same casual
+way.
+
+"I should say that every stopper was certainly out," answered Peter
+in graver tones. He detested slang and would never understand it. Then
+again the bearing and air of Jack's friend jarred on him. "You know, of
+course, the old couplet--'When the wine flows the--'"
+
+"No, I don't know it," interrupted Minott with an impatient glance. "I'm
+not much on poetry--but you can bet your bottom dollar it's flowing all
+right." Then seeing the shade of disappointment on Breen's face at the
+flippant way in which he had returned Peter's courtesies, but without
+understanding the cause, he added, tightening his arm around his
+friend's neck, "Brace up, Jack, old man, and let yourself go. That's
+what I'm always telling Jack, Mr. Grayson. He's got to cut loose from
+a lot of old-fashioned notions that he brought from home if he wants to
+get anywhere around here. I had to."
+
+"What do you want him to give up, Mr. Minott?" Peter had put on his
+glasses now, and was inspecting Garry at closer range.
+
+"Oh, I don't know--just get into the swing of things and let her go."
+
+"That is no trouble for you to do," rejoined Jack, looking into his
+friend's face. "You're doing something that's worth while."
+
+"Well, aren't you doing something that's worth while? Why you'll be
+a millionaire if you keep on. First thing you know the lightning will
+strike you just as it did your uncle."
+
+Morris leaned forward at the moment and called Minott by name. Instantly
+the young man's manner changed to one of respectful attention as he
+stepped to his Chief's side.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Morris."
+
+"You tell the men up your way to get ready to come to order, or we won't
+get through in time--it's getting late."
+
+"All right, sir, I'll take care of 'em. Just as soon as you begin to
+speak you won't hear a sound."
+
+As Minott moved from Morris's seat another and louder shout arose from
+the other end of the table:
+
+"Garry, Garry, hurry up!" came the cry. It was evident the young man was
+very popular.
+
+Peter dropped his glasses from his nose, and turning toward Morris said
+in a low voice:
+
+"That's a very breezy young man, Holker, the one who has just left us.
+Got something in him, has he, besides noise?"
+
+"Yes, considerable. Wants toning down once in a while, but there's no
+question of his ability or of his loyalty. He never shirks a duty and
+never forgets a kindness. Queer combination when you think of it, Peter.
+What he will make of himself is another matter."
+
+Peter drew his body back and sent his thoughts out on an investigating
+tour. He was wondering what effect the influence of a young man like
+Minott would have on a young man like Breen.
+
+The waiters at this point brought in huge trays holding bowls of tobacco
+and long white clay pipes, followed by even larger trays bearing coffee
+in little cups. Morris waited a moment and then rapped for order.
+Instantly a hush fell upon the noisy room; plates and glasses were
+pushed back so as to give the men elbow room; pipes were hurriedly
+lighted, and each guest turned his chair so as to face the Chief, who
+was now on his feet.
+
+As he stood erect, one hand behind his back, the other stretched toward
+the table in his appeal for silence, I thought for the hundredth time
+how kind his fifty years had been to him; how tightly knit his figure;
+how well his clothes became him. A handsome, well-groomed man at all
+times and in any costume--but never so handsome or so well groomed as
+in evening dress. Everything in his make-up helped: the broad, square
+shoulders, arms held close to his side; flat waist; incurving back and
+narrow hips. His well-modelled, aristocratic head, too, seemed to gain
+increased distinction when it rose clear from a white shirt-front which
+served as a kind of marble pedestal for his sculptured head. There
+was, moreover, in his every move and look, that quality of transparent
+sincerity which always won him friends at sight. "If men's faces are
+clocks," Peter always said, "Holker's is fitted with a glass dial. You
+can not only see what time it is, but you can see the wheels that move
+his heart."
+
+He was about to speak now, his eyes roaming the room waiting for the
+last man to be still. No fumbling of glasses or rearranging of napkin,
+but erect, with a certain fearless air that was as much a part of his
+nature as was his genius. Beginning in a clear, distinct voice which
+reached every ear in the room, he told them first how welcome they were.
+How great an honor it was for him to have them so close to him--so close
+that he could look into all their faces with one glance; not only those
+who came from a distance but those of his personal staff, to whom really
+the success of the year's work had been due. As for himself, he was, as
+they knew, only the lead horse in the team, going ahead to show them
+the way, while they did the effective pulling that brought the load to
+market! Here he slipped his hand in his pocket, took from it a small box
+which he laid beside his plate, and continued:
+
+"At these festivals, as you know, and if my memory serves me this is our
+third, it has always been our custom to give some slight token of our
+appreciation to the man who has done most during the year to further the
+work of the office. This has always been a difficult thing to decide,
+because every one of you, without a single exception, has given the best
+that is in you in the general result. Three years ago, you remember, it
+was awarded to the man who by common consent had carried to completion,
+and without a single error, the detailed drawings of the Museum which
+was finished last year. I am looking at you, Mr. Downey, and again
+congratulate you. Last year it was awarded to Mr. Buttrick for the
+masterly way with which he put together the big arches of the Government
+warehouses--a man whom it would have been my pleasure to congratulate
+again to-night had it been possible for him to reach us. To-night I
+think you will all agree with me that this small token, not only of my
+own, but of your 'personal regard and appreciation'" (here he opened
+the box and took from it a man's ring set with three jewels), "should
+be given to the man who has carried out in so thorough a way the part
+allotted to him in the Corn Exchange, and who is none other than Mr.
+Garrison Minott, who for--"
+
+The rest of the sentence was lost in the uproar.
+
+"Garry! Garry! Garry Minott!" came from all parts of the room. "Bully
+for Garry! You deserve it, old man! Three cheers for Garry Minott!
+Hip... Hip...!"
+
+Morris's voice now dominated the room.
+
+"Come this way, Mr. Minott."
+
+The face of the young superintendent, which had been in a broad laugh
+all the evening, grew white and red by turns. Out of pure astonishment
+he could neither move nor speak.
+
+"All right--stay where you are!" cried Morris laughing. "Pass it up to
+him, please."
+
+John Breen sprang from his chair with the alertness of a man who had
+been accustomed to follow his impulse. In his joy over his friend's
+good fortune he forgot his embarrassment, forgot that he was a stranger;
+forgot that he alone, perhaps, was the only young man in the room whose
+life and training had not fitted him for the fullest enjoyment of
+what was passing around him; forgot everything, in fact, but that his
+comrade, his friend, his chum, had won the highest honors his Chief
+could bestow.
+
+With cheeks aflame he darted to Morris's chair.
+
+"Let me hand it to him, sir," he cried, all the love for his friend
+in his eyes, seizing the ring and plunging toward Garry, the shouts
+increasing as he neared his side and placed the prize in his hand. Only
+then did Minott find his breath and his feet.
+
+"Why, Mr. Morris!--Why, fellows!--Why, there's plenty of men in the
+office who have done more than I have to--"
+
+Then he sat down, the ring fast in his hand.
+
+When the applause had subside--the young fellow's modesty had caused a
+fresh outburst--Morris again rose in his chair and once more the room
+grew still.
+
+"Twelve o'clock, gentlemen," he said. "Mr. Downey, you are always our
+stand-by in starting the old hymn."
+
+The diners--host and guests alike--rose to their feet as one man. Then
+to Peter's and my own intense surprise that most impressive of all
+chants, the Doxology in long metre, surged out, gaining in volume and
+strength as its strains were caught up by the different voices.
+
+With the ending of the grand old hymn--it had been sung with every
+mark of respect by every man in the room--John Breen walked back to his
+chair, leaned toward Peter, and with an apologetic tone in his voice--he
+had evidently noticed the unfavorable impression that Garry had made on
+his neighbor--said:
+
+"Don't misjudge Garry, Mr. Grayson; he's the kindest hearted fellow in
+the world when you know him. He's a little rough sometimes, as you can
+see, but he doesn't mean it. He thinks his way of talking and acting is
+what he calls 'up-to-date.'" Then he added with a sigh: "I wish I had a
+ring like that--one that I had earned. I tell you, Mr. Grayson, THAT'S
+something worth while."
+
+Peter laid his hand on the young man's shoulder and looked him straight
+in the face, the same look in his eyes that a proud father would have
+given a son who had pleased him. He had heard with delight the boy's
+defence of his friend and he had read the boy's mind as he sang the
+words of the hymn, his face grave, his whole attitude one of devotion.
+"You'd think he was in his father's pew at home," Peter had whispered
+to me with a smile. It was the latter outburst though--the one that came
+with a sigh--that stirred him most.
+
+"And you would really have liked a ring yourself, my lad?"
+
+"Would I like it! Why, Mr. Grayson, I'd rather have had Mr. Morris give
+me a thing like that and DESERVED IT, than have all the money you could
+pile on this table."
+
+One of those sudden smiles which his friends loved so well irradiated
+Peter's face.
+
+"Keep on the way you're going, my son," he said, seizing the boy's hand,
+a slight tremble in his voice, "and you'll get a dozen of them."
+
+"How?" The boy's eyes were wide in wonderment.
+
+"By being yourself. Don't let go of your ideals no matter what Minott
+or anybody else says. Let him go his way and do you keep on in yours.
+Don't... but I can't talk here. Come and see me. I mean it."
+
+Breen's eyes glistened. "When?"
+
+"To-morrow night, at my rooms. Here's my card. And you, too, Mr.
+Minott--glad to see both of you." Garry has just joined them.
+
+"Thanks awfully," answered Minott. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Grayson, but I'm
+booked for a supper at the Magnolia. Lot of the fellows want to whoop
+up this--" and he held the finger bearing the ring within an inch of
+Peter's nose. "And they want you, too, Jack."
+
+"No, please let me have him," Peter urged. Minott, I could see, he did
+not want; Breen he was determined to have.
+
+"I would love to come, sir, and it's very kind of you to ask me. There's
+to be a dance at my uncle's tomorrow night, though I reckon I can be
+excused. Would you--would you come to see me instead? I want you to see
+my father's portrait. It's not you, and yet it's like you when you turn
+your head; and there are some other things. I'd like--" Here the boy
+stopped.
+
+Peter considered for a moment. Calling at the house of a man he did not
+know, even to continue the acquaintance of so charming a young fellow
+as his nephew, was not one of the things punctilious Mr.
+Grayson--punctilious as to forms of etiquette--was accustomed to do. The
+young man read his thoughts and added quickly:
+
+"Of course I'll do just as you say, but if you only would come we will
+be entirely alone and won't see anybody else in the house."
+
+"But couldn't you possibly come to me?" Peter urged. The fact that young
+Breen had a suite of rooms so sequestered as to be beyond the reach
+even of a dance, altered the situation to some extent, but he was still
+undecided. "I live all alone when my sister is not with me, and I, too,
+have many things I am sure would interest you. Say you'll come now--I
+shall expect you, shall I not?"
+
+The boy hesitated. "You may not know exactly what I mean," he said
+slowly. "Maybe you can't understand, for everybody about here seems to
+love you, and you must have lots of friends. The fact is, I feel out of
+everything. I get pretty lonely sometimes. Garry, here, never stays five
+minutes when he comes to see me, so many people are after him all the
+time. Please say you'll come!"
+
+There was a note in the boy's voice that swept away all the older man's
+scruples.
+
+"Come, my son! Of course I'll come," burst out Peter. "I'll be there at
+nine o'clock."
+
+As Morris and the others passed between the table and the wall on
+their way to the cloak-room, Minott, who had listened to the whole
+conversation, waited until he thought Peter had gone ahead, and then,
+with an impatient gesture, said:
+
+"What the devil, Jack, do you want to waste your time over an old fellow
+like that for?"
+
+"Oh, Garry, don't--"
+
+"Don't! A bald-headed old pill who ought to have--"
+
+Then the two passed out of hearing.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+
+Breakfast--any meal for that matter--in the high-wainscoted,
+dark-as-a-pocket dining-room of the successful Wall Street broker--the
+senior member of the firm of A. Breen & Co., uncle, guardian and
+employer of the fresh, rosy-cheeked lad who sat next to Peter on the
+night of Morris's dinner, was never a joyous function.
+
+The room itself, its light shut out by the adjoining extensions,
+prevented it; so did the glimpse of hard asphalt covering the scrap of a
+yard, its four melancholy posts hung about with wire clothes-lines; and
+so did the clean-shaven, smug-faced butler, who invariably conducted his
+master's guests to their chairs with the movement of an undertaker, and
+who had never been known to crack a smile of any kind, long or short,
+during his five years' sojourn with the family of Breen.
+
+Not that anybody wanted Parkins to crack one, that is, not his master,
+and certainly not his mistress, and most assuredly not his other
+mistress, Miss Corinne, the daughter of the lady whom the successful
+Wall Street broker had made his first and only wife.
+
+All this gloomy atmosphere might have been changed for the better had
+there been a big, cheery open wood fire snapping and blazing away,
+sputtering out its good morning as you entered--and there would have
+been if any one of the real inmates had insisted upon it--fought for it,
+if necessary; or if in summer one could have seen through the curtained
+windows a stretch of green grass with here and there a tree, or one
+or two twisted vines craning their necks to find out what was going on
+inside; or if in any or all seasons, a wholesome, happy-hearted, sunny
+wife looking like a bunch of roses just out of a bath, had sat behind
+the smoking coffee-urn, inquiring whether one or two lumps of sugar
+would be enough; or a gladsome daughter who, in a sudden burst of
+affection, had thrown her arms around her father's neck and kissed him
+because she loved him, and because she wanted his day and her day
+to begin that way:--if, I say, there had been all, or one-half, or
+one-quarter of these things, the atmosphere of this sepulchral interior
+might have been improved--but there wasn't.
+
+There was a wife, of course, a woman two years older than Arthur
+Breen--the relict of a Captain Barker, an army officer--who had spent
+her early life in moving from one army post to another until she had
+settled down in Washington, where Breen had married her, and where the
+Scribe first met her. But this sharer of the fortunes of Breen preferred
+her breakfast in bed, New York life having proved even more wearing than
+military upheavals. And there was also a daughter, Miss Corinne Barker,
+Captain and Mrs. Barker's only offspring, who had known nothing of army
+posts, except as a child, but who had known everything of Washington
+life from the time she was twelve until she was fifteen, and she was now
+twenty; but that young woman, I regret to say, also breakfasted in bed,
+where her maid had special instructions not to disturb her until my
+lady's jewelled fingers touched a button within reach of her dainty
+hand; whereupon another instalment of buttered rolls and coffee would be
+served with such accessories of linen, porcelain and silver as befitted
+the appetite and station of one so beautiful and so accomplished.
+
+These conditions never ceased to depress Jack. Fresh from a life out
+of doors, accustomed to an old-fashioned dining-room--the living room,
+really, of the family who had cared for him since his father's death,
+where not only the sun made free with the open doors and windows,
+but the dogs and neighbors as well--the sober formality of this early
+meal--all of his uncle's meals, for that matter--sent shivers down his
+back that chilled him to the bone.
+
+He had looked about him the first morning of his arrival, had noted the
+heavy carved sideboard laden with the garish silver; had examined the
+pictures lining the walls, separated from the dark background of leather
+by heavy gold frames; had touched with his fingers the dial of the
+solemn bronze clock, flanked by its equally solemn candelabra; had
+peered between the steel andirons, bright as carving knives, and into
+the freshly varnished, spacious chimney up which no dancing blaze had
+ever whirled in madcap glee since the mason's trowel had left it and
+never would to the end of time,--not as long as the steam heat held
+out; had watched the crane-like step of Parkins as he moved about the
+room--cold, immaculate, impassive; had listened to his "Yes, sir--thank
+you, sir, very good, sir," until he wanted to take him by the throat and
+shake something spontaneous and human out of him, and as each cheerless
+feature passed in review his spirits had sunk lower and lower.
+
+This, then, was what he could expect as long as he lived under his
+uncle's roof--a period of time which seemed to him must stretch out
+into dim futurity. No laughing halloos from passing neighbors through
+wide-open windows; no Aunt Hannahs running in with a plate of cakes
+fresh from the griddle which would cool too quickly if she waited for
+that slow-coach of a Tom to bring them to her young master. No sweep of
+leaf-covered hills seen through bending branches laden with blossoms; no
+stretch of sky or slant of sunshine; only a grim, funereal, artificial
+formality, as ungenial and flattening to a boy of his tastes, education
+and earlier environment as a State asylum's would have been to a red
+Indian fresh from the prairie.
+
+On the morning after Morris's dinner (within eight hours really of the
+time when he had been so thrilled by the singing of the Doxology), Jack
+was in his accustomed seat at the small, adjustable accordion-built
+table--it could be stretched out to accommodate twenty-four covers--when
+his uncle entered this room. Parkins was genuflecting at the time with
+his--"Cream, sir,--yes, sir. Devilled kidney, sir? Thank you, sir."
+(Parkins had been second man with Lord Colchester, so he told Breen when
+he hired him.) Jack had about made up his mind to order him out when
+a peculiar tone in his uncle's "Good morning" made the boy scan that
+gentleman's face and figure the closer.
+
+His uncle was as well dressed as usual, looking as neat and as smart
+in his dark cut-away coat with the invariable red carnation in his
+buttonhole, but the boy's quick eye caught the marks of a certain wear
+and tear in the face which neither his bath nor his valet had been able
+to obliterate. The thin lips--thin for a man so fat, and which showed,
+more than any other feature, something of the desultory firmness of his
+character--drooped at the corners. The eyes were half their size,
+the snap all out of them, the whites lost under the swollen lids. His
+greeting, moreover, had lost its customary heartiness.
+
+"You were out late, I hear," he grumbled, dropping into his chair. "I
+didn't get in myself until two o'clock and feel like a boiled owl.
+May have caught a little cold, but I think it was that champagne of
+Duckworth's; always gives me a headache. Don't put any sugar and cream
+in that coffee, Parkins--want it straight."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied the flunky, moving toward the sideboard.
+
+"And now, Jack, what did you do?" he continued, picking up his napkin.
+"You and Garry made a night of it, didn't you? Some kind of an artist's
+bat, wasn't it?"
+
+"No, sir; Mr. Morris gave a dinner to his clerks, and--"
+
+"Who's Morris?"
+
+"Why, the great architect."
+
+"Oh, that fellow! Yes, I know him, that is, I know who he is. Say the
+rest. Parkins! didn't I tell you I didn't want any sugar or cream."
+
+Parkins hadn't offered any. He had only forgotten to remove them from
+the tray.
+
+Jack kept straight on; these differences between the master and Parkins
+were of daily occurrence.
+
+"And, Uncle Arthur, I met the most wonderful gentleman I ever saw; he
+looked just as if he had stepped out of an old frame, and yet he is down
+in the Street every day and--"
+
+"What firm?"
+
+"No firm, he is--"
+
+"Curbstone man, then?" Here Breen lifted the cup to his lips and as
+quickly put it down. "Parkins!"
+
+"Yes, sir," came the monotone.
+
+"Why the devil can't I get my coffee hot?"
+
+"Is it cold, sir?"--slight modulation, but still lifeless.
+
+"IS IT COLD? Of course it's cold! Might have been standing in a morgue.
+Take that down and have some fresh coffee sent up. Servants running
+o'er each other and yet I can't get a--Go on, Jack! I didn't mean to
+interrupt, but I'll clean the whole lot of 'em out of here if I don't
+get better service."
+
+"No, Uncle Arthur, he isn't a banker--isn't even a broker; he's only a
+paying teller in a bank," continued Jack.
+
+The older man turned his head and a look of surprise swept over his
+round, fat face.
+
+"Teller in a BANK?" he asked in an altered tone.
+
+"Yes, the most charming, the most courteous old gentleman I have ever
+met; I haven't seen anybody like him since I left home, and, just think,
+he has promised to come and see me to-night."
+
+The drooping lips straightened and a shrewd, searching glance shot from
+Arthur Breen's eyes. There was a brain behind this sleepy face--as many
+of his competitors knew. It was not always in working order, but when it
+was the man became another personality.
+
+"Jack--" The voice was now as thin as the drawn lips permitted, with
+caution in every tone, "you stop short off. You mustn't cotton to
+everybody you pick up in New York--it won't do. Get you into trouble.
+Don't bring him here; your aunt won't like it. When you get into a hole
+with a fellow and can't help yourself, take him to the club. That's one
+of the things I got you into the Magnolia for; but don't ever bring 'em
+here."
+
+"But he's a personal friend of Mr. Morris, and a friend of another
+friend of Mr. Morris's they called 'Major.'" It was not the first time
+he had heard such inhospitable suggestions from his uncle.
+
+"Oh, yes, I know; they've all got some old retainers hanging on that
+they give a square meal to once a year, but don't you get mixed up with
+'em."
+
+Parkins had returned by this time and was pouring a fresh cup of coffee.
+
+"Now, Parkins, that's something like--No, I don't want any kidneys--I
+don't want any toast--I don't want anything, Parkins--haven't I told you
+so?"
+
+"Yes, sir; thank you sir."
+
+"Black coffee is the only thing that'll settle this head. What you want
+to do, Jack, is to send that old fossil word that you've got another
+engagement, and... Parkins, is there anything going on here to-night?"
+
+"Yes, sir; Miss Cocinne is giving a small dance."
+
+"There, Jack--that's it. That'll let you out with a whole skin."
+
+"No, I can't, and I won't, Uncle Arthur," he answered in an indignant
+tone. "If you knew him as I do, and had seen him last night, you
+would--"
+
+"No, I don't want to know him and I don't want to see him. You are all
+balled up, I see, and can't work loose, but take him upstairs; don't let
+your aunt come across him or she'll have a fit." Here he glanced at the
+bronze clock. "What!--ten minutes past nine! Parkins, see if my cab is
+at the door.... Jack, you ride down with me. I walked when I was your
+age, and got up at daylight. Some difference, Jack, isn't there, whether
+you've got a rich uncle to look after you or not." This last came with a
+wink.
+
+It was only one of his pleasantries. He knew he was not rich; not in
+the accepted sense. He might be a small star in the myriads forming the
+Milky-Way of Finance, but there were planets millions of miles beyond
+him, whose brilliancy he was sure he could never equal. The fact was
+that the money which he had accumulated had been so much greater sum
+than he had ever hoped for when he was a boy in a Western State--his
+father went to Iowa in '49--and the changes in his finances had come
+with such lightning rapidity (half a million made on a tip given him by
+a friend, followed by other tips more or less profitable) that he loved
+to pat his pride, so to speak, in speeches like this.
+
+That he had been swept off his feet by the social and financial rush
+about him was quite natural. His wife, whose early life had been one
+long economy, had ambitions to which there was no limit and her escape
+from her former thraldom had been as sudden and as swift as the upward
+spring of a loosened balloon. Then again all the money needed to make
+the ascension successful was at her disposal. Hence jewels, laces, and
+clothes; hence elaborate dinners, the talk of the town: hence teas,
+receptions, opera parties, week-end parties at their hired country
+seat on Long Island; dances for Corinne; dinners for Corinne; birthday
+parties for Corinne; everything, in fact, for Corinne, from manicures to
+pug dogs and hunters.
+
+His two redeeming qualities were his affection for his wife and his
+respect for his word. He had no child of his own, and Corinne, though
+respectful never showed him any affection. He had sent Jack to a
+Southern school and college, managing meanwhile the little property
+his father had left him, which, with some wild lands in the Cumberland
+Mountains, practically worthless, was the boy's whole inheritance, and
+of late had treated him as if he had been his own son.
+
+As to his own affairs, close as he sailed to the wind in his money
+transactions--so close sometimes that the Exchange had more than once
+overhauled his dealings--it was generally admitted that when Arthur
+Breen gave his WORD--a difficult thing often to get--he never broke it.
+This was offset by another peculiarity with less beneficial results:
+When he had once done a man a service only to find him ungrateful,
+no amount of apologies or atonement thereafter ever moved him to
+forgiveness. Narrow-gauge men are sometimes built that way.
+
+It was to be expected, therefore, considering the quality of Duckworth's
+champagne and the impression made on Jack by his uncle's outburst,
+that the ride down town in the cab was marked by anything but cheerful
+conversation between Breen and his nephew, each of whom sat absorbed in
+his own reflections. "I didn't mean to be hard on the boy," ruminated
+Breen, "but if I had picked up everybody who wanted to know me, as Jack
+has done, where would I be now?" Then, his mind still clouded by the
+night at the club (he had not confined himself entirely to champagne),
+he began, as was his custom, to concentrate his attention upon the
+work of the day--on the way the market would open; on the remittance
+a belated customer had promised and about which he had some doubt; the
+meeting of the board of directors in the new mining company--"The Great
+Mukton Lode," in which he had an interest, and a large one--etc.
+
+Jack looked out of the windows, his eyes taking in the remnants of
+the autumnal tints in the Park, now nearly gone, the crowd filling
+the sidewalks; the lumbering stages and the swifter-moving horse-cars
+crammed with eager men anxious to begin the struggle of the day--not
+with their hands--that mob had swept past hours before--but with their
+brains--wits against wits and the devil take the man who slips and
+falls.
+
+Nothing of it all interested him. His mind was on the talk at the
+breakfast table, especially his uncle's ideas of hospitality, all of
+which had appalled and disgusted him. With his father there had always
+been a welcome for every one, no matter what the position in life, the
+only standard being one of breeding and character--and certainly Peter
+had both. His uncle had helped him, of course--put him under obligations
+he could never repay. Yet after all, it was proved now to him that he
+was but a guest in the house enjoying only such rights as any other
+guest might possess, and with no voice in the welcome--a condition
+which would never be altered, until he became independent himself--a
+possibility which at the moment was too remote to be considered. Then
+his mind reverted to his conversation the night before with Mr. Grayson
+and with this change of thought his father's portrait--the one that hung
+in his room--loomed up. He had the night before turned on the lights--to
+their fullest--and had scanned the picture closely, eager to find some
+trace of Peter in the counterfeit presentment of the man he loved best,
+and whose memory was still almost a religion, but except that both Peter
+and his father were bald, and that both wore high, old-fashioned collars
+and neck-cloths, he had been compelled to admit with a sigh that there
+was nothing about the portrait on which to base the slightest claim to
+resemblance.
+
+"Yet he's like my father, he is, he is," he kept repeating to himself
+as the cab sped on. "I'll find out what it is when I know him better.
+To-night when Mr. Grayson comes I'll study it out," and a joyous smile
+flashed across his features as he thought of the treat in store for him.
+
+When at last the boy reached his office, where, behind the mahogany
+partition with its pigeon-hole cut through the glass front he sat every
+day, he swung back the doors of the safe, took out his books and papers
+and made ready for work. He had charge of the check book, and he alone
+signed the firm's name outside of the partners. "Rather young," one of
+them protested, until he looked into the boy's face, then he gave his
+consent; something better than years of experience and discretion are
+wanted where a scratch of a pen might mean financial ruin.
+
+Breen had preceded him with but a nod to his clerks, and had disappeared
+into his private office--another erection of ground glass and mahogany.
+Here the senior member of the firm shut the door carefully, and turning
+his back fished up a tiny key attached to a chain leading to the rear
+pocket of his trousers. With this he opened a small closet near his
+desk--a mere box of a closet--took from it a squatty-shaped decanter
+labelled "Rye, 1840," poured out half a glass, emptied it into his
+person with one gulp, and with the remark in a low voice to himself that
+he was now "copper fastened inside and out"--removed all traces of the
+incident and took up his morning's mail.
+
+By this time the circle of chairs facing the huge blackboard in the
+spacious outer office had begun to fill up. Some of the customers,
+before taking their seats, hurried anxiously to the ticker, chattering
+away in its glass case; others turned abruptly and left the room without
+a word. Now and then a customer would dive into Breen's private room,
+remain a moment and burst out again, his face an index of the condition
+of his bank account.
+
+When the chatter of the ticker had shifted from the London quotations
+to the opening sales on the Exchange, a sallow-faced clerk mounted a low
+step-ladder and swept a scurry of chalk marks over the huge blackboard,
+its margin lettered with the initials of the principal stocks. The
+appearance of this nimble-fingered young man with his piece of chalk
+always impressed Jack as a sort of vaudeville performance. On ordinary
+days, with the market lifeless, but half of the orchestra seats would be
+occupied. In whirl-times, with the ticker spelling ruin, not only were
+the chairs full, but standing room only was available in the offices.
+
+Their occupants came from all classes; clerks from up-town dry-goods
+houses, who had run down during lunch time to see whether U.P. or Erie,
+or St. Paul had moved up an eighth, or down a quarter, since they had
+devoured the morning papers on their way to town; old speculators who
+had spent their lives waiting buzzard-like for some calamity, enabling
+them to swoop down and make off with what fragments they could pick up;
+well-dressed, well-fed club men, who had had a run of luck and who never
+carried less than a thousand shares to keep their hands in; gray-haired
+novices nervously rolling little wads of paper between their fingers and
+thumbs--up every few minutes to listen to the talk of the ticker, too
+anxious to wait until the sallow-faced young man with the piece of chalk
+could make his record on the board. Some of them had gathered together
+their last dollar. Two per cent. or one percent, or even one-half of one
+per cent. rise or fall was all that stood between them and ruin.
+
+"Very sorry, sir, but you know we told you when you opened the account
+that you must keep your margins up," Breen had said to an old man. The
+old man knew; had known it all night as he lay awake, afraid to tell his
+wife of the sword hanging above their heads. Knew it, too, when without
+her knowledge he had taken the last dollar of the little nest-egg to
+make good the deficit owed Breen & Co. over and above his margins,
+together with some other things "not negotiable"--not our kind of
+collateral but "stuff" that could "lie in the safe until he could make
+some other arrangement," the cashier had said with the firm's consent.
+
+Queer safe, that of Breen & Co., and queer things went into it. Most of
+them were still there. Jack thought some jeweller had sent part of his
+stock down for safe-keeping when he first came across a tiny drawer of
+which Breen alone kept the key. Each object could tell a story: a pair
+of diamond ear-rings surely could, and so could four pearls on a gold
+chain, and perhaps, too, a certain small watch, the case set with
+jewels. One of these days they may be redeemed, or they may not,
+depending upon whether the owners can scrape money enough together to
+pay the balances owed in cash. But the four pearls on the gold chain are
+likely to remain there--that poor fellow went overboard one morning off
+Nantucket Light, and his secret went with him.
+
+During the six months Jack had stood at his desk new faces had filled
+the chairs--the talk had varied; though he felt only the weary monotony
+of it all. Sometimes there had been hours of tense excitement, when even
+his uncle had stood by the ticker, and when every bankable security in
+the box had been overhauled and sent post-haste to the bank or trust
+company. Jack, followed by the porter with a self-cocking revolver in
+his outside pocket, had more than once carried the securities himself,
+returning to the office on the run with a small scrap of paper good
+for half a million or so tucked away in his inside pocket. Then the old
+monotony had returned with its dull routine and so had the chatter and
+talk. "Buy me a hundred." "Yes, let 'em go." "No, I don't want to risk
+it." "What's my balance?" "Thought you'd get another eighth for that
+stock." "Sold at that figure, anyhow," etc.
+
+Under these conditions life to a boy of Jack's provincial training and
+temperament seemed narrowed down to an arm-chair, a black-board, a piece
+of chalk and a restless little devil sputtering away in a glass case,
+whose fiat meant happiness or misery. Only the tongue of the demon
+was in evidence. The brain behind it, with its thousand slender nerves
+quivering with the energy of the globe, Jack never saw, nor, for that
+matter, did nine-tenths of the occupants of the chairs. To them its
+spoken word was the dictum of fate. Success meant debts paid, a balance
+in the bank, houses, horses, even yachts and estates--failure meant
+obscurity and suffering. The turn of the roulette wheel or the roll of
+a cube of ivory they well knew brought the same results, but these
+turnings they also knew were attended with a certain loss of prestige.
+Taking a flier in the Street was altogether different--great financiers
+were behind the fluctuations of values told by the tongue of the ticker,
+and behind them was the wealth of the Republic and still in the far
+distance the power of the American people. Few of them ever looked below
+the grease paint, nor did the most discerning ever detect the laugh on
+the clown's face.
+
+The boy half hidden by the glass screen, through which millions were
+passed and repassed every month, caught now and then a glimpse.
+
+Once a faded, white-haired old man had handed Jack a check after banking
+hours to make good an account--a man whose face had haunted him for
+hours. His uncle told him the poor fellow had "run up solid" against a
+short interest in a stock that some Croesus was manipulating to get even
+with another Croesus who had manipulated HIM, and that the two
+Croesuses had "buried the old man alive." The name of the stock Jack had
+forgotten, but the suffering in the victim's face had made an indelible
+impression. In reply to Jack's further inquiry, his uncle had spoken as
+if the poor fellow had been wandering about on some unknown highway
+when the accident happened, failing to add that he himself had led him
+through the gate and started him on the road; forgetting, too, to say
+that he had collected the toll in margins, a sum which still formed
+a considerable portion of Breen & Co.'s bank account. One bit of
+information which Breen had vouchsafed, while it did not relieve the
+gloom of the incident, added a note of courage to the affair:
+
+"He was game, however, all the same, Jack. Had to go down into his
+wife's stocking, I hear. Hard hit, but he took it like a man."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+
+While all this was going on downtown under the direction of the business
+end of the house of Breen, equally interesting events were taking place
+uptown under the guidance of its social head. Strict orders had
+been given by Mrs. Breen the night before that certain dustings and
+arrangings of furniture should take place, the spacious stairs swept,
+and the hectic hired palms in their great china pots watered. I say "the
+night before," because especial stress was laid upon the fact that on
+no account whatever were either Mrs. Breen or her daughter Corinne to be
+disturbed until noon--neither of them having retired until a late hour
+the night before.
+
+So strictly were these orders carried out that all that did reach the
+younger woman's ear--and this was not until long after mid-day--was a
+scrap of news which crept upstairs from the breakfast table via Parkins
+wireless, was caught by Corinne's maid and delivered in manifold with
+that young lady's coffee and buttered rolls. This when deciphered meant
+that Jack was not to be at the dance that evening--he having determined
+instead to spend his time up stairs with a disreputable old fellow whom
+he had picked up somewhere at a supper the preceding night.
+
+Corinne thought over the announcement for a moment, gazed into the
+egg-shell cup that Hortense was filling from the tiny silver coffee-pot,
+and a troubled expression crossed her face. "What has come over Jack?"
+she asked herself. "I never knew him to do anything like this before. Is
+he angry, I wonder, because I danced with Garry the other night? It
+WAS his dance, but I didn't think he would care. He has always done
+everything to please me--until now." Perhaps the boy was about to slip
+the slight collar he had worn in her service--one buckled on by him
+willingly because--though she had not known it--he was a guest in the
+house. Heretofore she said to herself Jack had been her willing slave,
+a feather in her cap--going everywhere with her; half the girls were
+convinced he was in love with her--a theory which she had encouraged.
+What would they say now? This prospect so disturbed the young woman that
+she again touched the button, and again Hortense glided in.
+
+"Hortense, tell Parkins to let me know the moment Mr. John comes in--and
+get me my blue tea-gown; I sha'n't go out to-day." This done she sank
+back on her pillows.
+
+She was a slight little body, this Corinne--blue-eyed, fair-haired, with
+a saucy face and upturned nose. Jack thought when he first saw her that
+she looked like a wren with its tiny bill in the air--and Jack was not
+far out of the way. And yet she was a very methodical, level-headed
+little wren, with several positive convictions which dominated her
+life--one of them being that everybody about her ought to do, not as
+they, but as she, pleased. She had begun, and with pronounced success,
+on her mother as far back as she could remember, and had then tried
+her hand on her stepfather until it became evident that as her mother
+controlled that gentleman it was a waste of time to experiment further.
+All of which was a saving of stones without the loss of any birds.
+
+Where she failed--and she certainly had failed, was with Jack, who
+though punctiliously polite was elusive and--never quite subdued. Yet
+the discovery made, she neither pouted nor lost her temper, but merely
+bided her time. Sooner or later, she knew, of course, this boy, who
+had seen nothing of city life and who was evidently dazed with all the
+magnificence of the stately home overlooking the Park, would find his
+happiest resting-place beneath the soft plumage of her little wing. And
+if by any chance he should fall in love with her--and what more natural;
+did not everybody fall in love with her?--would it not be wiser to let
+him think she returned it, especially if she saw any disposition on the
+young man's part to thwart her undisputed sway of the household?
+
+For months she had played her little game, yet to her amazement none of
+the things she had anticipated had happened. Jack had treated her as
+he would any other young woman of his acquaintance--always with
+courtesy--always doing everything to oblige her, but never yielding to
+her sway. He would laugh sometimes at her pretensions, just as he would
+have laughed at similar self-assertiveness on the part of any one else
+with whom he must necessarily be thrown, but never by thought, word
+or deed had he ever given my Lady Wren the faintest suspicion that he
+considered her more beautiful, better dressed, or more entertaining,
+either in song, chirp, flight or plumage, than the flock of other birds
+about her. Indeed, the Scribe knows it to be a fact that if Jack's
+innate politeness had not forbidden, he would many times have told her
+truths, some of them mighty unpleasant ones, to which her ears had been
+strangers since her school-girl days.
+
+This unstudied treatment, strange to say--the result really, of the
+boy's indifference--had of late absorbed her. What she could not have
+she generally longed for, and there was not the slightest question up to
+the present moment that Jack was still afield.
+
+Again the girl pressed the button of the cord within reach of her hand,
+and for the third time Hortense entered.
+
+"Have you told Parkins I want to know the very instant Mr. John comes
+in?"
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+"And, Hortense, did you understand that Mr. John was to go out to meet
+the gentleman, or was the gentleman to come to his rooms?"
+
+"To his rooms, I think, miss."
+
+She was wearing her blue tea-gown, stretched out on the cushions
+of one of the big divans in the silent drawing-room, when she heard
+Jack's night-key touch the lock. Springing to her feet she ran toward
+him.
+
+"Why, Jack, what's this I hear about your not coming to my dance? It
+isn't true, is it?" She was close to him now, her little head cocked on
+one side, her thin, silken draperies dripping about her slender figure.
+
+"Who told you?"
+
+"Parkins told Hortense."
+
+"Leaky Parkins?" laughed Jack, tossing his hat on the hall table.
+
+"But you are coming, aren't you, Jack? Please do!"
+
+"Not to-night; you don't need me, Corinne." His voice told her at once
+that not only was the leash gone but that the collar was off as well.
+
+"Yes, but I do."
+
+"Then please excuse me, for I have an old gentleman coming to pay me
+a visit. The finest old gentleman, by the way, you ever saw! A regular
+thoroughbred, Corinne--who looks like a magnificent portrait!" he added
+in his effort to interest her.
+
+"But let him come some other time," she coaxed, holding the lapel of his
+coat, her eyes searching his.
+
+"What, turn to the wall a magnificent old portrait!" This came with a
+mock grimace, his body bent forward, his eyes brimming with laughter.
+
+"Be serious, Jack, and tell me if you think it very nice in you to stay
+upstairs in your den when I am giving a dance? Everybody will know you
+are at home, and we haven't enough men as it is. Garry can't come, he
+writes me. He has to dine with some men at the club."
+
+"I really AM sorry, Corinne, but I can't this time." Jack had hold
+of her hand now; for a brief moment he was sorry he had not postponed
+Peter's visit until the next day; he hated to cause any woman a
+disappointment. "If it was anybody else I might send him word to call
+another night, but you don't know Mr. Grayson; he isn't the kind of a
+man you can treat like that. He does me a great honor to come, anyhow.
+Just think of his coming to see a boy like me--and he so--"
+
+"Well, bring him downstairs, then." Her eyes began to flash; she had
+tried all the arts she knew--they were not many--but they had won
+heretofore. "Mother will take care of him. A good many of the girls'
+fathers come for them."
+
+"Bring him downstairs to a dance!" Jack answered with a merry laugh. "He
+isn't that kind of an old gentleman, either. Why, Corinne, you ought to
+see him! You might as well ask old Bishop Gooley to lead the german."
+
+Jack's foot was now ready to mount the lower step of the stairs. Corinne
+bit her lip.
+
+"You never do anything to please me!" she snapped back. She knew she
+was fibbing, but something must be done to check this new form of
+independence--and then, now that Garry couldn't come, she really needed
+him. "You don't want to come, that's it--" She facing him now, her
+little nose high in the air, her cheeks flaming with anger.
+
+"You must not say that, Corinne," he answered in a slightly indignant
+tone.
+
+Corinne drew herself up to her full height--toes included; not very
+high, but all she could do--and said in a voice pitched to a high key,
+her finger within a few inches of his nose:
+
+"It's true, and I will say it!"
+
+The rustle of silk was heard overhead, and a plump, tightly laced woman
+in voluminous furs, her head crowned by a picture hat piled high with
+plumes, was making her way down the stairs. Jack looked up and waved his
+hand to his aunt, and then stood at mock attention, like a corporal on
+guard, one hand raised to salute her as she passed. The boy, with the
+thought of Peter coming, was very happy this afternoon.
+
+"What are you two quarrelling about?" came the voice. Rather a soft
+voice with a thread of laziness running through it.
+
+"Jack's too mean for anything, mother. He knows we haven't men enough
+without him for a cotillion, now that Garry has dropped out, and he's
+been just stupid enough to invite some old man to come and see him this
+evening."
+
+The furs and picture hat swept down and on, Jack standing at attention,
+hands clasping an imaginary musket his face drawn down to its severest
+lines, his cheeks puffed out to make him look the more solemn. When the
+wren got "real mad" he would often say she was the funniest thing alive.
+
+"I'm a pig, I know, aunty" (here Jack completed his salute with a great
+flourish), "but Corinne does not really want me, and she knows it. She
+only wants to have her own way. They don't dance cotillions when they
+come here--at least they didn't last time, and I don't believe they will
+to-night. They sit around with each other in the corners and waltz with
+the fellows they've picked out--and it's all arranged between them, and
+has been for a week--ever since they heard Corinne was going to give a
+dance." The boy spoke with earnestness and a certain tone of conviction
+in his voice, although his face was still radiant.
+
+"Well, can't you sit around, too, Jack?" remarked his aunt, pausing in
+her onward movement for an instant. "I'm sure there will be some lovely
+girls."
+
+"Yes, but they don't want me. I've tried it too often, aunty--they've
+all got their own set."
+
+"It's because you don't want to be polite to any of them," snapped
+Corinne with a twist of her body, so as to face him again.
+
+"Now, Corinne, that isn't fair; I am never impolite to anybody in this
+house, but I'm tired of--"
+
+"Well, Garry isn't tired." This last shot was fired at random.
+
+Again the aunt poured oil: "Come, children, come! Don't let's talk any
+more about it. If Jack has made an engagement it can't be helped, I
+suppose, but don't spoil your party, my dear. Find Parkins, Jack, and
+send him to me.... Ah, Parkins--if any one calls say I'll be out until
+six o'clock."
+
+"Yes, my Lady." Parkins knew on which side his bread was buttered. She
+had reproved him at first, but his excuse was that she was so like his
+former mistress, Lady Colchester, that he sometimes forgot himself.
+
+And again "my Lady" swept on, this time out of the door and into her
+waiting carriage.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+
+Jack's impatience increased as the hour for Peter's visit approached.
+Quarter of nine found him leaning over the banisters outside his small
+suite of rooms, peering down between the hand-rails watching the top of
+every head that crossed the spacious hall three flights below--he dare
+not go down to welcome his guest, fearing some of the girls, many
+of whom had already arrived, would know he was in the house. Fifteen
+minutes later the flash of a bald head, glistening in the glare of the
+lower hall lantern, told him that the finest old gentleman in the world
+had arrived, and on the very minute. Parkins's special instructions,
+repeated for the third time, were to bring Mr. Peter Grayson--it was
+wonderful what an impressive note was in the boy's voice when he rolled
+out the syllables--up at once, surtout, straight-brimmed hat, overshoes
+(if he wore any), umbrella and all, and the four foot-falls--two
+cat-like and wabbly, as befitted the obsequious flunky, and two firm and
+decided, as befitted a grenadier crossing a bridge--could now be heard
+mounting the stairs.
+
+"So here you are!" cried Peter, holding out both hands to the overjoyed
+boy--"'way up near the sky. One flight less than my own. Let me get my
+breath, my boy, before I say another word. No, don't worry, only Anno
+Domini--you'll come to it some day. How delightfully you are settled!"
+
+They had entered the cosey sitting-room and Jack was helping with his
+coat; Parkins, with his nose in the air (he had heard his master's
+criticism), having already placed his hat on a side table and the
+umbrella in the corner.
+
+"Where will you sit--in the big chair by the fire or in this long straw
+one?" cried the boy, Peter's coat still in his hand.
+
+"Nowhere yet; let me look around a little." One of Peter's tests of a
+man was the things he lived with. "Ah! books?" and he peered at a row
+on the mantel. "Macaulay, I see, and here's Poe: Good, very good--why,
+certainly it is--Where did you get this Morland?" and again Peter's
+glasses went up. "Through that door is your bedroom--yes, and the bath.
+Very charming, I must say. You ought to live very happily here; few
+young fellows I know have half your comforts."
+
+Jack had interrupted him to say that the Morland print was one that he
+had brought from his father's home, and that the books had come from the
+same source, but Peter kept on in his tour around the room. Suddenly he
+stopped and looked steadily at a portrait over the mantel.
+
+"Yes--your father--"
+
+"You knew!" cried Jack.
+
+"Knew! How could any one make a mistake? Fine head. About fifty I should
+say. No question about his firmness or his kindness. Yes--fine head--and
+a gentleman, that is best of all. When you come to marry always hunt up
+the grandfather--saves such a lot of trouble in after life," and one of
+Peter's infectious laughs filled the room.
+
+"Do you think he looks anything like Uncle Arthur? You have seen him, I
+think you said."
+
+Peter scanned the portrait. "Not a trace. That may also be a question of
+grandfathers--" and another laugh rippled out. "But just be thankful
+you bear his name. It isn't always necessary to have a long line of
+gentlemen behind you, and if you haven't any, or can't trace them, a
+man, if he has pluck and grit, can get along without them; but it's very
+comforting to know they once existed. Now let me sit down and listen to
+you," added Peter, whose random talk had been inspired by the look of
+boyish embarrassment on Jack's face. He had purposely struck many notes
+in order to see which one would echo in the lad's heart, so that his
+host might find himself, just as he had done when Jack with generous
+impulse had sprang from his chair to carry Minott the ring.
+
+The two seated themselves--Peter in the easy chair and Jack opposite.
+The boy's eyes roamed from the portrait, with its round, grave face, to
+Peter's head resting on the cushioned back, illumined by the light
+of the lamp, throwing into relief the clear-cut lips, little gray
+side-whiskers and the tightly drawn skin covering his scalp, smooth as
+polished ivory.
+
+"Am I like him?" asked Peter. He had caught the boy's glances and had
+read his thoughts.
+
+"No--and yes. I can't see it in the portrait, but I do in the way you
+move your hands and in the way you bow. I keep thinking of him when I am
+with you. It may, as you say, be a good thing to have a gentleman for a
+father, sir, but it is a dreadful thing, all the same, to lose him just
+as you need him most. I wouldn't hate so many of the things about me if
+I had him to go to now and then."
+
+"Tell me about him and your early life," cried Peter, crossing one leg
+over the other. He knew the key had been struck; the boy might now play
+on as he chose.
+
+"There is very little to tell. I lived in the old home with an aunt
+after my father's death. And went to school and then to college at
+Hagerstown--quite a small college--where uncle looked after me--he paid
+the expenses really--and then I was clerk in a law office for a while,
+and at my aunt's death about a year ago the old place was sold and I had
+no home, and Uncle Arthur sent for me to come here."
+
+"Very decent in him, and you should never forget him for it," and again
+Peter's eyes roamed around the perfectly appointed room.
+
+"I know it, sir, and at first the very newness and strangeness of
+everything delighted me. Then I began to meet the people. They were so
+different from those in my part of the country, especially the young
+fellows--Garry is not so bad, because he really loves his work and is
+bound to succeed--everybody says he has a genius for architecture--but
+the others--and the way they treat the young girls, and what is more
+unaccountable to me is the way the young girls put up with it."
+
+Peter had settled himself deeper in his chair, his eyes shaded with one
+hand and looked intently at the boy.
+
+"Uncle Arthur is kind to me, but the life smothers me. I can't breathe
+sometimes. Nothing my father taught me is considered worth while here.
+People care for other things."
+
+"What, for instance?" Peter's hand never moved, nor did his body.
+
+"Why stocks and bonds and money, for instance," laughed Jack, beginning
+to be annoyed at his own tirade--half ashamed of it in fact. "Stocks are
+good enough in their way, but you don't want to live with them from ten
+o'clock in the morning till four o'clock in the afternoon, and then hear
+nothing else talked about until you go to bed. That's why that dinner
+last night made such an impression on me. Nobody said money once."
+
+"But every one of those men had his own hobby--"
+
+"Yes, but in my uncle's world they all ride one and the same horse.
+I don't want to be a pessimist, Mr. Grayson, and I want you to set me
+straight if I am wrong, but Mr. Morris and every one of those men about
+him were the first men I've seen in New York who appear to me to be
+doing the things that will live after them. What are we doing down-town?
+Gambling the most of us."
+
+"But your life here isn't confined to your uncle and his stock-gambling
+friends. Surely these lovely young girls--two of them came in with me--"
+and Peter smiled, "must make your life delightful."
+
+Jack's eyes sought the floor, then he answered slowly:
+
+"I hope you won't think me a cad, but--No, I'm not going to say a word
+about them, only I can't get accustomed to them and there's no use of
+my saying that I can. I couldn't treat any girl the way they are treated
+here. And I tell you another thing--none of the young girls whom I
+know at home would treat me as these girls treat the men they know. I'm
+queer, I guess, but I might as well make a clean breast of it all. I am
+an ingrate, perhaps, but I can't help thinking that the old life at home
+was the best. We loved our friends, and they were welcome at our table
+any hour, day or night. We had plenty of time for everything; we lived
+out of doors or in doors, just as we pleased, and we dressed to suit
+ourselves, and nobody criticised. Why, if I drop into the Magnolia on my
+way up-town and forget to wear a derby hat with a sack coat, or a black
+tie with a dinner-jacket, everybody winks and nudges his neighbor. Did
+you ever hear of such nonsense in your life?"
+
+The boy paused as if the memory of some incident in which he was
+ridiculed was alive in his mind. Peter's eyes were still fixed on his
+face.
+
+"Go on--I'm listening; and what else hurts you? Pour it all out. That's
+what I came for. You said last night nobody would listen--I will."
+
+"Well, then, I hate the sham of it all; the silly social distinctions;
+the fits and starts of hospitality; the dinners given for show. Nothing
+else going on between times; even the music is hired. I want to hear
+music that bubbles out--old Hannah singing in the kitchen, and Tom, my
+father's old butler, whistling to himself--and the dogs barking, and
+the birds singing outside. I'm ashamed of myself making comparisons, but
+that was the kind of life I loved, because there was sincerity in it."
+
+"No work?" There was a note of sly merriment in the inquiry, but Jack
+never caught it.
+
+"Not much. My father was Judge and spent part of the time holding court,
+and his work never lasted but a few hours a day, and when I wanted to go
+fishing or shooting, or riding with the girls, Mr. Larkin always let me
+off. And I had plenty of time to read--and for that matter I do here, if
+I lock myself up in this room. That low library over there is full of my
+father's books."
+
+Again Peter's voice had a tinge of merriment in it.
+
+"And who supported the family?" he asked in a lower voice.
+
+"My father."
+
+"And who supported him?"
+
+The question brought Jack to a full stop. He had been running on,
+pouring out his heart for the first time since his sojourn in New York,
+and to a listener whom he knew he could trust.
+
+"Why--his salary, of course," answered Jack in astonishment, after a
+pause.
+
+"Anything else?"
+
+"Yes--the farm."
+
+"And who worked that?"
+
+"My father's negroes--some of them his former slaves."
+
+"And have you any money of your own--anything your father left you?"
+
+"Only enough to pay taxes on some wild lands up in Cumberland County,
+and which I'm going to hold on to for his sake."
+
+Peter dropped his shading fingers, lifted his body from the depths of
+the easy chair and leaned forward so that the light fell full on his
+face. He had all the information he wanted now.
+
+"And now let me tell you my story, my lad. It is a very short one. I
+had the same sort of a home, but no father--none that I remember--and no
+mother, they both died before my sister Felicia and I were grown up.
+At twelve I left school; at fifteen I worked in a country store--up at
+daylight and to bed at midnight, often. From twenty to twenty-five I
+was entry clerk in a hardware store; then book-keeper; then cashier in
+a wagon factory; then clerk in a village bank--then book-keeper again
+in my present bank, and there I have been ever since. My only advantages
+were a good constitution and the fact that I came of gentle people. Here
+we are both alike--you at twenty--how old?--twenty two?... Well, make
+it twenty-two.... You at twenty-two and I at twenty-two seem to have
+started out in life with the same natural advantages, so far as years
+and money go, but with this difference--Shall I tell you what it is?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That I worked and loved it, and love it still, and that you are lazy
+and love your ease. Don't be offended--" Here Peter laid his hand on the
+boy's knee. He waited an instant, and not getting any reply, kept on:
+"What you want to do is to go to work. It wouldn't have been honorable
+in you to let your father support you after you were old enough to
+earn your own living, and it isn't honorable in you, with your present
+opinions, to live on your uncle's bounty, and to be discontented
+and rebellious at that, for that's about what it all amounts to. You
+certainly couldn't pay for these comforts outside of this house on what
+Breen & Co. can afford to pay you. Half of your mental unrest, my lad,
+is due to the fact that you do not know the joy and comfort to be got
+out of plain, common, unadulterated work."
+
+"I'll do anything that is not menial."
+
+"What do you mean by 'menial'?"
+
+"Well, working like a day-laborer."
+
+"Most men who have succeeded have first worked with their hands."
+
+"Not my uncle."
+
+"No, not your uncle--he's an exception--one among a million, and then
+again he isn't through."
+
+"But he's worth two million, they say."
+
+"Yes, but he never earned it, and he never worked for it, and he doesn't
+now. Do you want to follow in his footsteps?"
+
+"No--not with all his money." This came in a decided tone. "But surely
+you wouldn't want me to work with my hands, would you?"
+
+"I certainly should, if necessary."
+
+Jack looked at him, and a shade of disappointment crossed his face.
+
+"But I COULDN'T do anything menial."
+
+"There isn't anything menial in any kind of work from cleaning a stable
+up! The menial things are the evasions of work--tricks by which men are
+cheated out of their just dues."
+
+"Stock gambling?"
+
+"Yes--sometimes, when the truth is withheld."
+
+"That's what I think; that's what I meant last night when I told
+you about the faro-bank. I laughed over it, and yet I can't see much
+difference, although I have never seen one."
+
+"So I understood, but you were wrong about it. Your uncle bears a very
+good name in the Street. He is not as much to blame as the system.
+Perhaps some day the firm will become real bankers, than which there is
+no more honorable calling."
+
+"But is it wrong to want to fish and shoot and have time to read."
+
+"No, it is wrong not to do it when you have the time and the money. I
+like that side of your nature. My own theory is that every man should
+in the twenty-four hours of the day devote eight to work, eight to sleep
+and eight to play. But this can only be done when the money to support
+the whole twenty-four hours is in sight, either in wages, or salary, or
+invested securities. More money than this--that is the surplusage that
+men lock up in their tin boxes, is a curse. But with that you have
+nothing to do--not yet, anyhow. Now, if I catch your meaning, your idea
+is to go back to your life at home. In other words you want to live the
+last end of your life first--and without earning the right to it.
+And because you cannot do this you give yourself up to criticising
+everything about you. Getting only at the faults and missing all the
+finer things in life. If you would permit me to advise you--" he still
+had his hand on the lad's knee, searching the soft brown eyes--"I would
+give up finding fault and first try to better things, and I would begin
+right here where you are. Some of the great banking houses which keep
+the pendulum of the world swinging true have grown to importance through
+just such young men as yourself, who were honest and had high ideals
+and who so impressed their own personalities upon everybody about
+them--customers and employers--that the tone of the concern was raised
+at once and with it came a world-wide success. I have been thirty years
+on the Street and have watched the rise of half the firms about me,
+and in every single instance some one of the younger men--boys, many of
+them--has pulled the concern up and out of a quagmire and stood it on
+its feet. And the reverse is true: half the downfalls have come from
+those same juniors, who thought they knew some short road to success,
+which half the time was across disreputable back lots. Why not give
+up complaining and see what better things you can do? I'm not quite
+satisfied about your having stayed upstairs even to receive me.
+Your aunt loves society and the daughter--what did you say her name
+was--Corinne? Yes, Miss Corinne being young, loves to have a good time.
+Listen! do you hear?--there goes another waltz. Now, as long as you do
+live here, why not join in it too and help out the best you can?--and
+if you have anything of your own to offer in the way of good cheer, or
+thoughtfulness, or kindness, or whatever you do have which they lack--or
+rather what you think they lack--wouldn't it be wiser--wouldn't it--if
+you will permit me, my lad--be a little BETTER BRED to contribute
+something of your own excellence to the festivity?"
+
+It was now Jack's turn to lean back in his chair and cover his face, but
+with two ashamed hands. Not since his father's death had any one talked
+to him like this--never with so much tenderness and truth and with every
+word meant for his good. All his selfrighteousness, his silly conceit
+and vainglory stood out before him. What an ass he had been. What a
+coxcomb. What a boor, really.
+
+"What would you have me do?" he asked, a tone of complete surrender in
+his voice. The portrait and Peter were one and the same! His father had
+come to life.
+
+"I don't know yet. We'll think about that another time, but we won't do
+it now. I ought to be ashamed of myself for having spoiled your evening
+by such serious talk (he wasn't ashamed--he had come for that very
+purpose). Now show me some of your books and tell me what you read, and
+what you love best."
+
+He was out of the chair before he ceased speaking, his heels striking
+the floor, bustling about in his prompt, exact manner, examining the few
+curios and keepsakes on the mantel and tables, running his eyes over the
+rows of bindings lining the small bookcase; his hand on Jack's shoulder
+whenever the boy opened some favorite author to hunt for a passage to
+read aloud to Peter, listening with delight, whether the quotation was
+old or new to him.
+
+Jack, suddenly remembering that his guest was standing, tried to lead
+him back to his seat by the fire, but Peter would have none of it.
+
+"No--too late. Why, bless me, it's after eleven o'clock! Hear the
+music--they are still at it. Now I'm going to insist that you go down
+and have a turn around the room yourself; there were such a lot of
+pretty girls when I came in."
+
+"Too late for that, too," laughed Jack, merry once more. "Corinne
+wouldn't speak to me if I showed my face now, and then there will be
+plenty more dances which I can go to, and so make it all up with her.
+I'm not yet as sorry as I ought to be about this dance. Your being here
+has been such a delight. May I--may--I come and see you some time?"
+
+"That's just what you will do, and right away. Just as soon as my dear
+sister Felicia comes down, and she'll be here very soon. I'll send
+for you, never fear. Yes, the right sleeve first, and now my hat and
+umbrella. Ah, here they are. Now, good night, my boy, and thank you for
+letting me come."
+
+"You know I dare not go down with you," explained Jack with a smile.
+
+"Oh, yes--I know--I know. Good night--" and the sharp, quick tread of
+the old man grew fainter and fainter as he descended the stairs.
+
+Jack waited, craning his head, until he caught a glimpse of the
+glistening head as it passed once more under the lantern, then he went
+into his room and shut the door.
+
+Had he followed behind his guest he would have witnessed a little comedy
+which would have gone far in wiping clean all trace of his uncle's
+disparaging remarks of the morning. He would have enjoyed, too,
+Parkins's amazement. As the Receiving Teller of the Exeter Bank
+reached the hall floor the President of the Clearing House--the most
+distinguished man in the Street and one to whom Breen kotowed with
+genuflections equalling those of Parkins--accompanied by his daughter
+and followed by the senior partner of Breen & Co., were making their
+way to the front door. The second man in the chocolate livery with the
+potato-bug waistcoat had brought the Magnate's coat and hat, and Parkins
+stood with his hand on the door-knob. Then, to the consternation of
+both master and servant, the great man darted forward and seized Peter's
+hand.
+
+"Why, my dear Mr. Grayson! This is indeed a pleasure. I didn't see
+you--were you inside?"
+
+"No--I've been upstairs with young Mr. Breen," replied Peter, with a
+comprehensive bow to Host, Magnate and Magnate's daughter. Then, with
+the grace and dignity of an ambassador quitting a salon, he passed out
+into the night.
+
+Breen found his breath first: "And you know him?"
+
+"Know him!" cried the Magnate--"of course I know him! One of the most
+delightful men in New York; and I'm glad that you do--you're luckier
+than I--try as I may I can hardly ever get him inside my house."
+
+I was sitting up for the old fellow when he entered his cosey red room
+and dropped into a chair before the fire. I had seen the impression the
+young man had made upon him at the dinner and was anxious to learn the
+result of his visit. I had studied the boy somewhat myself, noting
+his bright smile, clear, open face without a trace of guile, and the
+enthusiasm that took possession of him when his friend won the prize.
+That he was outside the class of young men about him I could see from
+a certain timidity of glance and gesture--as if he wanted to be kept in
+the background. Would the old fellow, I wondered, burden his soul with
+still another charge?
+
+Peter was laughing when he entered; he had laughed all the way
+down-town, he told me. What particularly delighted him--and here he
+related the Portman incident--was the change in Breen's face when old
+Portman grasped his hand so cordially.
+
+"Made of pinchbeck, my dear Major, both of them, and yet how genuine it
+looks on the surface, and what a lot of it is in circulation. Quite as
+good as the real thing if you don't know the difference," and again he
+laughed heartily.
+
+"And the boy," I asked, "was he disappointing?"
+
+"Young Breen?--not a bit of it. He's like all the young fellows who come
+up here from the South--especially the country districts--and he's
+from western Maryland, he says. Got queer ideas about work and what a
+gentleman should do to earn his living--same old talk. Hot-house plants
+most of them--never amount to anything, really, until they are pruned
+and set out in the cold."
+
+"Got any sense?" I ventured.
+
+"No, not much--not yet--but he's got temperament and refinement and a
+ten commandments' code of morals."
+
+"Rather rare, isn't it?" I asked.
+
+"Yes--perhaps so."
+
+"And I suppose you are going to take him up and do for him, like the
+others."
+
+Peter picked up the poker and made a jab at the fire; then he answered
+slowly:
+
+"Well, Major, I can't tell yet--not positively. But he's certainly worth
+saving."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+
+With the closing of the front door upon the finest Old Gentleman in the
+World, a marked change took place in the mental mechanism of several of
+our most important characters. The head of the firm of Breen & Co. was
+so taken aback that for the moment that shrewdest of financiers was
+undecided as to whether he or Parkins should rush out into the night
+after the departing visitor and bring him back, and open the best in the
+cellar. "Send a man out of my house," he said to himself, "whom Portman
+couldn't get to his table except at rare intervals! Well, that's one on
+me!"
+
+The lid that covered the upper half of Parkins's intelligence also
+received a jolt; it was a coal-hole lid that covered emptiness, but now
+and then admitted the light.
+
+"Might 'ave known from the clothes 'e wore 'e was no common PUR-son," he
+said to himself. "To tell you the truth--" this to the second man in the
+potato-bug waistcoat, when they were dividing between them the bottle
+of "Extra Dry" three-quarters full, that Parkins had smuggled into the
+pantry with the empty bottles ("Dead Men," Breen called them)--"to tell
+you the truth, Frederick, when I took 'is 'at and coat hupstairs 'e give
+me a real start 'e looked that respectable"
+
+As to Jack, not only his mind but his heart were in a whirl.
+
+Half the night he lay awake wondering what he could do to follow Peter's
+advice while preserving his own ideals. He had quite forgotten that part
+of the older man's counsel which referred to the dignity of work, even
+of that work which might be considered as menial. If the truth must be
+told, it was his vanity alone which had been touched by the suggestion
+that in him might lay the possibility of reforming certain conditions
+around him. He was willing, even anxious, to begin on Breen & Co.,
+subjecting his uncle, if need be, to a vigorous overhauling. Nothing he
+felt could daunt him in his present militant state, upheld, as he felt
+that he was, by the approval of Peter. Not a very rational state of
+mind, the Scribe must confess, and only to be accounted for by the fact
+that Peter's talk, instead of clearing Jack's mind of old doubts, had
+really clouded it the more--quite as a bottle of mixture when shaken
+sends its insoluble particles whirling throughout the whole.
+
+It was not until the following morning, indeed, that the sediment began
+to settle, and some of the sanity of Peter's wholesome prescription to
+produce a clarifying effect. As long as he, Jack, lived upon his uncle's
+bounty--and that was really what it amounted it--he must at least try to
+contribute his own quota of good cheer and courtesy. This was what Peter
+had done him the honor to advise, and he must begin at once if he wanted
+to show his appreciation of the courtesy.
+
+His uncle opened the way:
+
+"Why, I didn't know until I saw him go out that he was a friend of Mr.
+Portman's," he said as he sipped his coffee.
+
+"Neither did I. But does it make any difference?" answered Jack,
+flipping off the top of his egg.
+
+"Well I should think so--about ninety-nine and nine-tenths percent,"
+replied the older man emphatically. "Let's invite him to dinner, Jack.
+Maybe he'll come to one I'm giving next week and--"
+
+"I'll ask him--that is... perhaps, though, you might write him a note,
+uncle, and--"
+
+"Of course," interrupted Breen, ignoring the suggestion, "when I wanted
+you to take him to the club I didn't know who he was."
+
+"Of course you did not," echoed Jack, suppressing a smile.
+
+"The club! No, not by a damned sight!" exclaimed the head of the house
+of Breen. As this latter observation was addressed to the circumambient
+air, and not immediately to Jack, it elicited no response. Although
+slightly profane, Jack was clever enough to read in its tones not
+only ample apology for previous criticisms but a sort of prospective
+reparation, whereupon our generous young gentleman forgave his uncle at
+once, and thought that from this on he might like him the better.
+
+Even Parkins came in for a share of Jack's most gracious intentions,
+and though he was as silent as an automaton playing a game of chess, a
+slight crack was visible in the veneer of his face when Jack thanked him
+for having brought Mr. Grayson--same reverential pronunciation--upstairs
+himself instead of allowing Frederick or one of the maid-servants to
+perform that service.
+
+As for his apologies to Corinne and his aunt for having remained in his
+room after Mr. Grayson's departure, instead of taking part in the last
+hours of the dance--one o'clock was the exact hour--these were reserved
+until those ladies should appear at dinner, when they were made with
+so penitential a ring in his voice that his aunt at once jumped to the
+conclusion that he must have been bored to death by the old fellow,
+while Corinne hugged herself in the belief that perhaps after all Jack
+was renewing his interest in her; a delusion which took such possession
+of her small head that she finally determined to send Garry a
+note begging him to come to her at once, on business of the UTMOST
+IMPORTANCE; two strings being better than one, especially when they were
+to be played each against the other.
+
+As to the uplifting of the house of Breen & Co., and the possibility of
+so small a tail as himself being able to wag so large a dog as his uncle
+and his partners, that seemed now to be so chimerical an undertaking
+that he laughed when he thought of it.
+
+This urbanity of mood was still with him when some days later he dropped
+into the Magnolia Club on his way home, his purpose being to find Garry
+and to hear about the supper which his club friends had given him to
+celebrate his winning of the Morris ring.
+
+Little Biffton was keeping watch when Jack swung in with that free
+stride of his that showed more than anything else his muscular body and
+the way he had taken care of and improved it. No dumb-bells or clubs for
+fifteen minutes in the morning--but astride a horse, his thighs gripping
+a bare-back, roaming the hills day after day--the kind of outdoor
+experience that hardens a man all over without specializing his biceps
+or his running gear. Little Biff never had any swing to his gait--none
+that his fellows ever noticed. Biff went in for repose--sometimes hours
+at a time. Given a club chair, a package of cigarettes and some one to
+talk to him and Biff could be happy a whole afternoon.
+
+"Ah, Breen, old man! Come to anchor." Here he moved back a chair an inch
+or two with his foot, and pushed his silver cigarette-case toward the
+newcomer.
+
+"Thank you," replied Jack. "I've just dropped in to look for Garry
+Minott. Has he been in?"
+
+Biff was the bulletin-board of the Magnolia club. As he roomed upstairs,
+he could be found here at any hour of the day or night.
+
+Biff did not reply at once; there was no use in hurrying--not about
+anything. Besides, the connection between Biff's ears and his brain
+was never very good. One had to ring him up several times before he
+answered.
+
+Jack waited for an instant, and finding that the message was delayed
+in transmission, helped himself to one of Biff's "Specials"--bearing in
+gold letters his name "Brent Biffton" in full on the rice paper--dropped
+into the proffered chair and repeated the question:
+
+"Have you seen Garry?"
+
+"Yes--upstairs. Got a deck in the little room. Been there all afternoon.
+Might go up and butt in. Touch that bell before you go and say what."
+
+"No--I won't drink anything, if you don't mind. You heard about Garry's
+winning the prize?"
+
+"No." Biffton hadn't moved since he had elongated his foot in search of
+Jack's chair.
+
+"Why Garry got first prize in his office. I went with him to the supper;
+he's with Holker Morris, you know."
+
+"Yes. Rather nice. Yes, I did hear. The fellows blew him off upstairs.
+Kept it up till the steward shut 'em out. Awfully clever fellow, Minott.
+My Governor wanted me to do something in architecture, but it takes
+such a lot of time... Funny how a fellow will dress himself." Biffton's
+sleepy eyes were sweeping the Avenue. "Pendergast just passed wearing
+white spats--A month too late for spats--ought to know better. Touch the
+bell, Breen, and say what."
+
+Again Jack thanked him, and again Biffton relapsed into silence. Rather
+a damper on a man of his calibre, when a fellow wouldn't touch a bell
+and say what.
+
+Jack having a certain timidity about "butting in"--outsiders didn't do
+such things where he came from--settled himself into the depths of the
+comfortable leather-covered arm-chair and waited for Garry to finish
+his game. From where he sat he could not only overlook the small tables
+holding a choice collection of little tear-bottles, bowls of crushed ice
+and high-pressure siphons, but his eye also took in the stretch beyond,
+the club windows commanding the view up and down and quite across the
+Avenue, as well as the vista to the left.
+
+This outlook was the most valuable asset the Magnolia possessed. If the
+parasol was held flat, with its back to the club-house, and no glimpse
+of the pretty face possible, it was, of course, unquestionable evidence
+to the member looking over the top of his cocktail that neither the
+hour or the place was propitious. If, however, it swayed to the right or
+left, or better still, was folded tight, then it was equally conclusive
+that not only was the coast clear, but that any number of things might
+happen, either at Tiffany's, or the Academy, or wherever else one of
+those altogether accidental--"Why-who-would-have-thought-of-seeing-you-
+here" kind of meetings take place--meetings so delightful in themselves
+because so unexpected.
+
+These outlooks, too, were useful in solving many of the social problems
+that afflicted the young men about town; the identity, for instance,
+of the occupant of the hansom who had just driven past, heavily veiled,
+together with her destination and her reason for being out at all; why
+the four-in-hand went up empty and came back with a pretty woman beside
+the "Tooler," and then turned up a side street toward the Park, instead
+of taking the Avenue into its confidence; what the young wife of the old
+doctor meant when she waved her hand to the occupant of a third-story
+window, and who lived there, and why--None of their business, of
+course--never could be--but each and every escapade, incident and
+adventure being so much thrice-blessed manna to souls stranded in the
+desert waste of club conversation.
+
+None of these things interested our hero, and he soon found himself
+listening to the talk at an adjoining table. Topping, a young lawyer,
+Whitman Bunce, a man of leisure--unlimited leisure--and one or two
+others, were rewarming some of the day's gossip.
+
+"Had the gall to tell Bob's man he couldn't sleep in linen sheets; had
+his own violet silk ones in his trunk, to match his pajamas. The goat
+had 'em out and half on the bed when Bob came in and stopped him. Awful
+row, I heard, when Mrs. Bob got on to it. He'll never go there again."
+
+"And I heard," broke in Bunce, "that she ordered the trap and sent him
+back to the station."
+
+Other bits drifted Jack's way:
+
+"Why he was waiting at the stage-door and she slipped out somewhere in
+front. Billy was with her, so I heard.... When they got to Delmonico's
+there came near being a scrap.... No.... Never had a dollar on Daisy
+Belle, or any other horse...."
+
+Loud laughter was now heard at the end of the hall. A party of young
+men had reached the foot of the stairs and were approaching Biffton and
+Jack. Garry's merry voice led the others.
+
+"Still hard at work, are you, Biffy? Why, hello, Jack!--how long have
+you been here? Morlon, you know Mr. Breen, don't you?--Yes, of course
+you do--new member--just elected. Get a move on that carcass of yours,
+Biffy, and let somebody else get up to that table. Charles, take the
+orders."
+
+Jack had shaken everybody's hand by this time, Biffton having moved back
+a foot or two, and the circle had widened so that the poker party could
+reach their cocktails. Garry extended his arm till his hand rested on
+Jack's shoulder.
+
+"Nothing sets me up like a game of poker, old man. Been on the building
+all day. You ought to come up with me some time--I'll show you the
+greatest piece of steel construction you ever saw. Mr. Morris was all
+over it to-day. Oh, by the way! Did that old chunk of sandstone come up
+to see you last night? What did you say his name was?"
+
+Jack repeated Peter's cognomen--this time without rolling the syllables
+under his tongue--said that Mr. Grayson had kept his promise; that the
+evening had been delightful, and immediately changed the subject. There
+was no use trying to convert Garry.
+
+"And now tell me about the supper," asked Jack.
+
+"Oh, that was all right. We whooped it up till they closed the bar and
+then went home with the milk. Had an awful head on me next morning;
+nearly fell off the scaffold, I was so sleepy. How's Miss Corinne? I'm
+going to stop in on my way uptown this afternoon and apologize to her.
+I have her note, but I haven't had a minute to let her know why I didn't
+come. I'll show her the ring; then she'll know why. Saw it, didn't you?"
+
+Jack hadn't seen it. He had been too excited to look. Now he examined
+it. With the flash of the gems Biffy sat up straight, and the others
+craned their heads. Garry slipped it off his finger for the hundredth
+time for similar inspections, and Jack utilized the pause in the
+conversation to say that Corinne had received the note and that in reply
+she had vented most of her disappointment on himself, a disclosure which
+sent a cloud across Garry's face.
+
+The cocktail hour had now arrived--one hour before dinner, an hour which
+was fixed by that distinguished compounder of herbs and spirits, Mr.
+Biffton--and the room began filling up. Most of the members were young
+fellows but a few years out of college, men who renewed their Society
+and club life within its walls; some were from out of town--students in
+the various professions. Here and there was a man of forty--one even
+of fifty-five--who preferred the gayer and fresher life of the younger
+generation to the more solemn conclaves of the more exclusive clubs
+further up and further down town. As is usual in such combinations, the
+units forming the whole sought out their own congenial units and were
+thereafter amalgamated into groups, a classification to be found in all
+clubs the world over. While Biffy and his chums could always be found
+together, there were other less-fortunate young fellows, not only
+without coupon shears, but sometimes without the means of paying their
+dues--who formed a little coterie of their own, and who valued and used
+the club for what it brought them, their election carrying with it
+a certain social recognition: it also widened one's circle of
+acquaintances and, perhaps, of clients.
+
+The sound of loud talking now struck upon Jack's ear. Something more
+important than the angle of a parasol or the wearing of out-of-date
+spats was engrossing the attention of a group of young men who had just
+entered. Jack caught such expressions as--"Might as well have picked
+his pocket...." "He's flat broke, anyhow...." "Got to sell his house, I
+hear...."
+
+Then came a voice louder than the others.
+
+"There's Breen talking to Minott and Biffy. He's in the Street; he'll
+know.... Say, Breen!"
+
+Jack rose to his feet and met the speaker half way.
+
+"What do you know, Breen, about that scoop in gold stock? Heard anything
+about it? Who engineered it? Charley Gilbert's cleaned out, I hear."
+
+"I don't know anything," said Jack. "I left the office at noon and came
+up town. Who did you say was cleaned out?"
+
+"Why, Charley Gilbert. You must know him."
+
+"Yes, I know him. What's happened to him?"
+
+"Flat broke--that's what happened to him. Got caught in that gold
+swindle. The stock dropped out of sight this afternoon, I hear--went
+down forty points."
+
+Garry crowded his way into the group: "Which Mr. Gilbert?--not Charley
+M., the--"
+
+"Yes; Sam's just left him. What did he tell you, Sam?"
+
+"Just what you've said--I hear, too, that he has got to stop on his
+house out in Jersey. Can't finish it and can't pay for what's been
+done."
+
+Garry gave a low whistle and looked at Jack.
+
+"That's rough. Mr. Morris drew the plan of Gilbert's house himself. I
+worked on the details."
+
+"Rough!" burst out the first speaker. "I should say it was--might as
+well have burglared his safe. They have been working up this game for
+months, so Charley told me. Then they gave out that the lode had petered
+out and they threw it overboard and everybody with it. They said they
+tried to find Charley to post him, but he was out of town."
+
+"Who tried?" asked Jack, with renewed interest, edging his way close to
+the group. It was just as well to know the sheep from the goats, if he
+was to spend the remainder of his life in the Street.
+
+"That's what we want to know. Thought you might have heard."
+
+Jack shook his head and resumed his seat beside Biffy, who had not moved
+or shown the slightest interest in the affair. Nobody could sell Biff
+any gold stock--nor any other kind of stock. His came on the first of
+every month in a check from the Trust Company.
+
+For some moments Jack did not speak. He knew young Gilbert, and he knew
+his young and very charming wife. He had once sat next to her at dinner,
+when her whole conversation had been about this new home and the keen
+interest that Morris, a friend of her father's, had taken in it. "Mr.
+Breen, you and Miss Corinne must be among our earliest guests," she had
+said, at which Corinne, who was next to Garry, had ducked her little
+head in acceptance. This was the young fellow, then, who had been caught
+in one of the eddies whirling over the sunken rocks of the Street. Not
+very creditable to his intelligence, perhaps, thought Jack; but, then,
+again, who had placed them there, a menace to navigation?--and why?
+Certainly Peter could not have known everything that was going on around
+him, if he thought the effort of so insignificant an individual as
+himself could be of use in clearing out obstructions like these.
+
+Garry noticed the thoughtful expression settling over Jack's face, and
+mistaking the cause called Charles to take the additional orders.
+
+"Cheer up--try a high-ball, Jack. It's none of your funeral. You didn't
+scoop Gilbert; we are the worst sufferers. Can't finish his house now,
+and Mr. Morris is just wild over the design. It's on a ledge of rock
+overlooking the lake, and the whole thing goes together. We've got the
+roof on, and from across the lake it looks as if it had grown there. Mr.
+Morris repeated the rock forms everywhere. Stunning, I tell you!"
+
+Jack didn't want any high-ball, and said so. (Biffy didn't care if he
+did.) The boy's mind was still on the scoop, particularly on the way in
+which every one of his fellow-members had spoken of the incident.
+
+"Horrid business, all of it. Don't you think so, Garry?" Jack said after
+a pause.
+
+"No, not if you keep your eyes peeled," answered Garry, emptying his
+glass. "Never saw Gilbert but once, and then he looked to me like a
+softy from Pillowville. Couldn't fool me, I tell you, on a deal like
+that. I'd have had a 'stop order' somewhere. Served Gilbert right; no
+business to be monkeying with a buzz-saw unless he knew how to throw off
+the belt."
+
+Jack straightened his shoulders and his brows knit. The lines of the
+portrait were in the lad's face now.
+
+"Well, maybe it's all right, Garry. My own opinion is that it's no
+better than swindling. Anyway, I'm mighty glad Uncle Arthur isn't mixed
+up in it. You heard what Sam and the other fellows thought, didn't you?
+How would you like to have that said of you?"
+
+Garry tossed back his head and laughed.
+
+"Biffy, are you listening to his Reverence, the Bishop of Cumberland?
+Here endeth the first lesson."
+
+Biff nodded over his high-ball. He wasn't listening--discussions of any
+kind bored him.
+
+"But what do you care, Jack, what they say--what anybody says?"
+continued Garry. "Keep right on. You are in the Street to make money,
+aren't you? Everybody else is there for the same purpose. What goes up
+must come down. If you don't want to get your head smashed, stand from
+under. The game is to jump in, grab what you can, and jump out, dodging
+the bricks as they come. Let's go up-town, old man."
+
+Neither of the young men was expressing his own views. Both were too
+young and too inexperienced to have any fixed ideas on so vital a
+subject.
+
+It was the old fellow in the snuff-colored coat, black stock and
+dog-eared collar that was behind Jack. If he were alive to-day Jack's
+view would have been his view, and that was the reason why it was Jack's
+view. The boy could no more explain it than he could prove why his eyes
+were brown and his hair a dark chestnut, or why he always walked with
+his toes very much turned out, or made gestures with his hands when he
+talked. Had any of the jury been alive--and some of them were--or the
+prosecuting-attorney, or even any one of the old settlers who attended
+court, they could have told in a minute which one of the two young men
+was Judge Breen's son. Not that Jack looked like his father. No young
+man of twenty-two looks like an old fellow of sixty, but he certainly
+moved and talked like him--and had the same way of looking at things.
+"The written law may uphold you, sir, and the jury may so consider, but
+I shall instruct them to disregard your plea. There is a higher law,
+sir, than justice--a law of mercy--That I myself shall exercise." The
+old Judge had sat straight up on his bench when he said it, his face
+cast-iron, his eyes burning. The jury brought in an acquittal without
+leaving their seats. There was an outbreak, of course, but the man went
+free. This young offshoot was from the same old stock, that was all;
+same sap in his veins, same twist to his branch; same bud, same blossom
+and--same fruit.
+
+And Garry!
+
+Not many years have elapsed since I watched him running in and out of
+his father's spacious drawing-rooms on Fourteenth Street--the court
+end of town in those days. In the days, I mean, when his father was
+Collector of the Port, and his father's house with its high ceilings,
+mahogany doors and wide hall, and the great dining-room overlooking a
+garden with a stable in the rear. It had not been many years, I say,
+since the Hon. Creighton Minott had thrown wide its doors to whoever
+came--that is, whoever came properly accredited. It didn't last long,
+of course. Politics changed; the "ins" became the "outs." And with the
+change came the bridging-over period--the kind of cantilever which hope
+thrusts out from one side of the bank of the swift-flowing stream of
+adversity in the belief that somebody on the other side of the chasm
+will build the other half, and the two form a highway leading to a
+change of scene and renewed prosperity.
+
+The hospitable Collector continued to be hospitable. He had always
+taken chances--he would again. The catch-terms of Garry's day, such as
+"couldn't fool him," "keep your eye peeled," "a buzz-saw," etc., etc.,
+were not current in the father's day, but their synonyms were. He knew
+what he was about. As soon as a particular member of the Board got back
+from the other side the Honorable Collector would have the position
+of Treasurer, and then it was only a question of time when he would be
+President of the new corporation. I can see now the smile that lighted
+up his rather handsome face when he told me. He was "monkeying with
+a buzz-saw" all the same if he did but know it, and yet he always
+professed to follow the metaphor that he could "throw off the belt" that
+drove the pulley at his own good pleasure and so stop the connecting
+machinery before the teeth of the whirling blade could reach his
+fingers. Should it get beyond his control--of which there was not the
+remotest possibility--he would, of course, rent his house, sell his
+books and curtail. "In the meantime, my dear fellow, there is some of
+the old Madeira left and a game of whist will only help to drive dull
+care away."
+
+Garry never whimpered when the crash came. The dear mother died--how
+patient and uncomplaining she was in all their ups and downs--and Garry
+was all that was left. What he had gained since in life he had worked
+for; first as office boy, then as draughtsman and then in charge of
+special work, earning his Chief's approval, as the Scribe has duly
+set forth. He got his inheritance, of course. Don't we all get ours?
+Sometimes it skips a generation--some times two--but generally we are
+wearing the old gentleman's suit of clothes cut down to fit our
+small bodies, making believe all the time that they are our very own,
+unconscious of the discerning eyes who recognize their cut and origin.
+
+Nothing tangible, it is safe to say, came with Garry's share of the
+estate--and he got it all. That is, nothing he could exchange for value
+received--no houses or lots, or stocks or bonds. It was the INTANGIBLE
+that proved his richest possession, viz.:--a certain buoyancy of
+spirits; a cheery, optimistic view of life; a winning personality and
+the power of both making and holding friends. With this came another
+asset--the willingness to take chances, and still a third--an absolute
+belief in his luck. Down at the bottom of the box littered with old
+papers, unpaid tax bills and protested notes--all valueless--was
+a fourth which his father used to fish out when every other asset
+failed--a certain confidence in the turn of a card.
+
+But the virtues and the peccadilloes of their ancestors, we may be sure,
+were not interesting our two young men as they swung up the Avenue
+arm in arm, this particular afternoon, the sidewalks crowded with the
+fashion of the day, the roadway blocked with carriages. Nor did any
+passing objects occupy their attention.
+
+Garry's mind was on Corinne, and what he would tell her, and how she
+would look as she listened, the pretty head tucked on one side, her
+sparkling eyes drinking in every word of his story, although he knew she
+wouldn't believe one-half of it. Elusive and irritating as she sometimes
+was, there was really nobody exactly like Miss Corinne.
+
+Jack's mind had resumed its normal tone. Garry's merry laugh and
+good-natured ridicule had helped, so had the discovery that none of his
+friends had had anything to do with Gilbert's fall. After all, he said
+to himself, as he strode up the street beside his friend, it was "none
+of his funeral," none of his business, really. Such things went on every
+day and in every part of the world. Neither was it his Uncle Arthur's.
+That was the most comforting part of all.
+
+Corinne's voice calling over the banisters: "Is that you, Jack?" met the
+two young men as they handed their hats to the noiseless Frederick. Both
+craned their necks and caught sight of the Wren's head framed by the
+hand-rail and in silhouette against the oval sky-light in the roof
+above.
+
+"Yes, and Garry's here, too. Come down."
+
+The patter of little feet grew louder, then the swish of silken skirts,
+and with a spring she was beside them.
+
+"No, don't you say a word, Garry. I'm not going to listen and I won't
+forgive you no matter what you say." She had both of his hands now.
+
+"Ah, but you don't know, Miss Corinne. Has Jack told you?"
+
+"Yes, told me everything; that you had a big supper and everybody
+stamped around the room; that Mr. Morris gave you a ring, or something"
+(Garry held up his finger, but she wasn't ready to examine it yet), "and
+that some of the men wanted to celebrate it, and that you went to the
+club and stayed there goodness knows how long--all night, so Mollie
+Crane told me. Paul, her brother, was there--and you never thought a
+word about your promise to me" (this came with a little pout, her chin
+uplifted, her lips quite near his face), "and we didn't have half men
+enough and our cotillion was all spoiled. I don't care--we had a lovely
+time, even if you two men did behave disgracefully. No--I don't want
+to listen to a thing. I didn't come down to see either of you." (She had
+watched them both from her window as they crossed the street.) "What I
+want to know, Jack, is, who is Miss Felicia Grayson?"
+
+"Why, Mr. Grayson's sister," burst out Jack--"the old gentleman who came
+to see me."
+
+"That old fellow!"
+
+"Yes, that old fellow--the most charming--"
+
+"Not that remnant!" interrupted Garry.
+
+"No, Garry--not that kind of a man at all, but a most delightful old
+gentleman by the name of Mr. Grayson," and Jack's eyes flashed. "He told
+me his sister was coming to town. What do you know about her, Corinne?"
+He was all excitement: Peter was to send for him when his sister
+arrived.
+
+"Nothing--that's why I ask you. I've just got a note from her. She says
+she knew mamma when she lived in Washington, and that her brother
+has fallen in love with you, and that she won't have another happy
+moment--or something like that--if you and I don't come to a tea she
+is giving to a Miss Ruth MacFarlane; and that I am to give her love to
+mamma, and bring anybody I please with me."
+
+"When?" asked Jack. He could hardly restrain his joy.
+
+"I think next Saturday--yes, next Saturday," consulting the letter in
+her hand.
+
+"Where? At Mr. Grayson's rooms?" cried Jack.
+
+"Yes, at her brother's, she says. Here, Jack--you read it. Some number
+in East Fifteenth Street--queer place for people to live, isn't it,
+Garry?--people who want anybody to come to their teas. I've got a
+dressmaker lives over there somewhere; she's in Fifteenth Street,
+anyhow, for I always drive there."
+
+Jack devoured the letter. This was what he had been hoping for. He knew
+the old gentleman would keep his word!
+
+"Well, of course you'll go, Corinne?" he cried eagerly.
+
+"Of course I'll do nothing of the kind. I think it's a great piece
+of impudence. I've never heard of her. Because you had her brother
+upstairs, that's no reason why--But that's just like these people. You
+give them an inch and--"
+
+Jack's cheeks flushed: "But, Corinne! She's offered you a
+courtesy--asked you to her house, and--"
+
+"I don't care; I'm not going! Would you, Garry?"
+
+The son of the Collector hesitated for a moment. He had his own ideas of
+getting on in the world. They were not Jack's--his, he knew, would never
+succeed. And they were not exactly Corinne's--she was too particular.
+The fence was evidently the best place for him.
+
+"Would be rather a bore, wouldn't it?" he replied evasively, with a
+laugh. "Lives up under the roof, I guess, wears a dyed wig, got
+Cousin Mary Ann's daguerreotype on the mantle, and tells you how Uncle
+Ephraim--"
+
+The door opened and Jack's aunt swept in. She never walked, or ambled,
+or stepped jauntily, or firmly, or as if she wanted to get anywhere in
+particular; she SWEPT in, her skirts following meekly behind--half a
+yard behind, sometimes.
+
+Corinne launched the inquiry at her mother, even before she could return
+Garry's handshake. "Who's Miss Grayson, mamma?"
+
+"I don't know. Why, my child?"
+
+"Well, she says she knows you. Met you in Washington."
+
+"The only Miss Grayson I ever met in Washington, my dear, was an old
+maid, the niece of the Secretary of State. She kept house for him after
+his wife died. She held herself very high, let me tell you. A very grand
+lady, indeed. But she must be an old woman now, if she is still living.
+What did you say her first name was?"
+
+Corinne took the open letter from Jack's hand. "Felicia... Yes,
+Felicia."
+
+"And what does she want?--money for some charity?" Almost everybody
+she knew, and some she didn't, wanted money for some charity. She was
+loosening her cloak as she spoke, Frederick standing by to relieve my
+lady of her wraps.
+
+"No; she's going to give a tea and wants us all to come. She's the
+sister of that old man who came to see Jack the other night, and--"
+
+"Going to give a tea!--and the sister of--Well, then, she certainly
+isn't the Miss Grayson I know. Don't you answer her, Corinne, until I
+find out who she is."
+
+"I'll tell you who she is," burst out Jack. His face was aflame now.
+Never had he listened to such discourtesy. He could hardly believe his
+ears.
+
+"It wouldn't help me in the least, my dear Jack; so don't you begin. I
+am the best judge of who shall come to my house. She may be all right,
+and she may not, you can never tell in a city like New York, and you
+can't be too particular. People really do such curious pushing things
+now-a-days." This to Garry. "Now serve tea, Parkins. Come in all of
+you."
+
+Jack was on the point of blazing out in indignation over the false
+position in which his friend had been placed when Peter's warning voice
+rang in his ears. The vulgarity of the whole proceeding appalled him,
+yet he kept control of himself.
+
+"None for me, please, aunty," he said quietly. "I will join you later,
+Garry," and he mounted the stairs to his room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+
+Peter was up and dressed when Miss Felicia arrived, despite the early
+hour. Indeed that gay cavalier was the first to help the dear lady off
+with her travelling cloak and bonnet, Mrs. McGuffey folding her veil,
+smoothing out her gloves and laying them all upon the bed in the
+adjoining room--the one she kept in prime order for Miss Grayson's use.
+
+The old fellow was facing the coffee-urn when he told her Jack's story
+and what he himself had said in reply, and how fine the boy was in
+his beliefs, and how well-nigh impossible it was for him to help him,
+considering his environment.
+
+The dear lady had listened with her eyes fixed on Peter. It was but
+another of his benevolent finds; it had been the son of an old music
+teacher the winter before, and a boy struggling through college last
+spring;--always somebody who wanted to get ahead in one direction or
+another, no matter how impracticable his ambitions might be. This
+young man, however, seemed different; certain remarks had a true ring.
+Perhaps, after all, her foolish old brother--foolish when his heart
+misled him--might have found somebody at last who would pay for the time
+he spent upon him. The name, too, had a familiar sound. She was quite
+sure the aunt must be the same rather over-dressed persistent young
+widow who had flitted in and out of Washington society the last year of
+her own stay in the capital. She had finally married a rich New York man
+of the same name. So she had heard.
+
+The tea to which Jack and Corinne were invited was the result of this
+conversation. Trust Miss Felicia for doing the right thing and in the
+right way, whatever her underlying purpose might be; and then again she
+must look this new protege over.
+
+Peter at once joined in the project. Nothing pleased him so much as
+a function of any kind in which his dear sister was the centre of
+attraction, and this was always the case. Was not Mrs. McGuffey put to
+it, at these same teas, to know what to do with the hats and coats,
+and the long and short cloaks and overshoes, and lots of other things
+beside--umbrellas and the like--whenever Miss Felicia came to town? And
+did not the good woman have many of the cards of the former function
+hidden in her bureau drawer to show her curious friends just how grand
+a lady Miss Felicia was? General Waterbury, U.S.A., commanding the
+Department of the East, with headquarters at Governors Island, was one
+of them. And so were Colonel Edgerton, Judge Lambert and Mrs. Lambert;
+and His Excellency the French Ambassador, whom she had known as an
+attache and who was passing through the city and had been overjoyed to
+leave a card; as well as Sir Anthony Broadstairs, who expected to spend
+a week with her in her quaint home in Geneseo, but who had made it
+convenient to pay his respects in Fifteenth Street instead: to say
+nothing of the Coleridges, Thomases, Bordeauxs and Worthingtons,
+besides any number of people from Washington Square, with plenty more
+from Murray Hill and beyond.
+
+Peter in his enthusiasm had made a mental picture of a repetition of all
+this and had already voiced it in the suggestion of these and various
+other prominent names, when Miss Felicia stopped him with:
+
+"No, Peter--No. It's not to be a museum of fossils, but a garden full of
+rosebuds; nobody with a strand of gray hair will be invited. As for the
+lame, the halt and the blind, they can come next week. I've just been
+looking you over, Peter; you are getting old and wrinkled and pretty
+soon you'll be as cranky as the rest of them, and there will be no
+living with you. The Major, who is half your age"--I had come early, as
+was my custom, to pay my respects to the dear woman--"is no better. You
+are both of you getting into a rut. What you want is some young blood
+pumped into your shrivelled veins. I am going to hunt up every girl I
+know and all the boys, including that young Breen you are so wild over,
+and then I'll send for dear Ruth MacFarlane, who has just come North
+with her father to live, and who doesn't know a soul, and nobody over
+twenty-five is to be admitted. So if you and the Major want to come to
+Ruth's tea--Ruth's, remember; not yours or the Major's, or mine--you
+will either have to pass the cake or take the gentlemen's hats. Do you
+hear?"
+
+We heard, and we heard her laugh as she spoke, raising her gold lorgnon
+to her eyes and gazing at us with that half-quizzical look which so
+often comes over her face.
+
+She was older than Peter--must have been: I never knew exactly. It would
+not have been wise to ask her, and nobody else knew but Peter, and he
+never told. And yet there was no mark of real old age upon her. She and
+Peter were alike in this. Her hair, worn Pompadour, was gray--an honest
+black-and-white gray; her eyes were bright as needle points; the skin
+slightly wrinkled, but fresh and rosy--a spare, straight, well-groomed
+old lady of--perhaps sixty--perhaps sixty-five, depending on her dress,
+or undress, for her shoulders were still full and well rounded. "The
+most beautiful neck and throat, sir, in all Washington in her day," old
+General Waterbury once told me, and the General was an authority. "You
+should have seen her in her prime, sir. What the devil the men were
+thinking of I don't know, but they let her go back to Geneseo, and there
+she has lived ever since. Why, sir, at a ball at the German Embassy she
+made such a sensation that--" but then the General always tells such
+stories of most of the women he knows.
+
+There was but little left of that kind of beauty. She had kept her
+figure, it is true--a graceful, easy moving figure, with the waist of a
+girl; well-proportioned arms and small, dainty hands. She had kept,
+too, her charm of manner and keen sense of humor--she wouldn't have
+been Peter's sister otherwise--as well as her interest in her friend's
+affairs, especially the love affairs of all the young people about her.
+
+Her knowledge of men and women had broadened. She read them more easily
+now than when she was a girl--had suffered, perhaps, by trusting them
+too much. This had sharpened the tip end of her tongue to so fine a
+point that when it became active--and once in a while it did--it could
+rip a sham reputation up the back as easily as a keen blade loosens the
+seams of a bodice.
+
+Peter fell in at once with her plan for a "Rosebud Tea," in spite of her
+raillery and the threatened possibility of our exclusion, promising not
+only to assist her with the invitations, but to be more than careful at
+the Bank in avoiding serious mistakes in his balances--so as to be on
+hand promptly at four. Moreover, if Jack had a sweetheart--and there
+was no question of it, or ought not to be--and Corinne had another,
+what would be better than bringing them all down together, so that Miss
+Felicia could look them over, and Miss Ruth and the Major could get
+better acquainted, especially Jack and Miss Felicia; and more especially
+Jack and himself.
+
+Miss Felicia's proposal having therefore been duly carried out, with
+a number of others not thought of when the tea was first
+discussed--including some pots of geraniums in the window, red, of
+course, to match the color of Peter's room--and the freshening up of
+certain swiss curtains which so offended Miss Felicia's ever-watchful
+eyes that she burst out with: "It is positively disgraceful, Peter, to
+see how careless you are getting--" At which Mrs. McGuffey blushed to
+the roots of her hair, and washed them herself that very night before
+she closed her eyes. The great day having arrived, I say the tea-table
+was set with Peter's best, including "the dearest of silver teapots"
+that Miss Felicia had given him for special occasions; the table covered
+with a damask cloth and all made ready for the arrival of her guests.
+This done, the lady returned to her own room, from which she emerged
+an hour later in a soft gray silk relieved by a film of old lace at her
+throat, blending into the tones of her gray hair brushed straight up
+from her forehead and worn high over a cushion, the whole topped by a
+tiny jewel which caught the light like a drop of dew.
+
+And a veritable grand dame she looked, and was, as she took her seat and
+awaited the arrival of her guests--in bearing, in the way she moved her
+head; in the way she opened her fan--in the selection of the fan itself,
+for that matter. You felt it in the color and length of her gloves; the
+size of her pearl ear rings (not too large, and yet not too small), in
+the choice of the few rings that encircled her slender and now somewhat
+shrunken fingers (one hoop of gold had a history that the old French
+Ambassador could have told if he wanted to, so Peter once hinted to
+me)--everything she did in fact betrayed a wide acquaintance with the
+great world and its requirements and exactions.
+
+Other women of her age might of their choice drop into charities, or
+cats, or nephews and nieces, railing against the present and living
+only in the past; holding on like grim death to everything that made
+it respectable, so that they looked for all the world like so many old
+daguerreotypes pulled from the frames. Not so Miss Felicia Grayson of
+Geneseo, New York. Her past was a flexible, india-rubber kind of a past
+that she stretched out after her. She might still wear her hair as she
+did when the old General raved over her, although the frost of many
+winters had touched it; but she would never hold on to the sleeves of
+those days or the skirts or the mantles: Out or in they must go,
+be puffed, cut bias, or made plain, just as the fashion of the day
+insisted. Oh! a most level-headed, common-sense, old aristocrat was Dame
+Felicia!
+
+With the arrival of the first carriage old Isaac Cohen moved his seat
+from the back to the front of his shop, so he could see everybody who
+got out and went in, as well as everybody who walked past and gazed up
+at the shabby old house and its shabbier steps and railings. Not that
+the shabby surroundings ever made any difference whether the guests were
+"carriage company" or not, to quote good Mrs. McGuffey. Peter would not
+be Peter if he lived anywhere else, and Miss Felicia wouldn't be half
+so quaint and charming if she had received her guests behind a marble
+or brownstone front with an awning stretched to the curbstone and a
+red velvet carpet laid across the sidewalk, the whole patrolled by a
+bluecoat and two hired men.
+
+The little tailor had watched many such functions before. So had the
+neighbors, who were craning their heads from the windows. They all knew
+by the carriages when Miss Felicia came to town and when she left, and
+by the same token for that matter. The only difference between this
+reception and former receptions, or teas, or whatever the great people
+upstairs called them, was in the ages of the guests; not any gray
+whiskers and white heads under high silk hats, this time; nor any demure
+or pompous, or gentle, or, perhaps, faded old ladies puffing up Peter's
+stairs--and they did puff before they reached his door, where they
+handed their wraps to Mrs. McGuffey in her brave white cap and braver
+white apron. Only bright eyes and rosy faces today framed in tiny bon
+nets, and well-groomed young fellows in white scarfs and black coats.
+
+But if anybody had thought of the shabby surroundings they forgot all
+about it when they mounted the third flight of stairs and looked in
+the door. Not only was Peter's bedroom full of outer garments, and
+Miss Felicia's, too, for that matter--but the banisters looked like a
+clothes-shop undergoing a spring cleaning, so thickly were the coats
+slung over its hand rail. So, too, were the hall, and the hall chairs,
+and the gas bracket, and even the hooks where Peter hung his clothes to
+be brushed in the morning--every conceivable place, in fact, wherever
+an outer wrap of any kind could be suspended, poked, or laid flat. That
+Mrs. McGuffey was at her wits' end--only a short walk--was evident from
+the way she grabbed my hat and coat and disappeared through a door which
+led to her own apartments, returning a moment later out of breath and, I
+fancied, a little out of temper.
+
+And that was nothing to the way in which the owners of all these several
+habiliments were wedged inside. First came the dome of Peter's bald head
+surmounting his merry face, then the top of Miss Felicia's pompadour,
+with its tiny diamond spark bobbing about as she laughed and moved
+her head in saluting her guests and then mobs and mobs of young people
+packed tight, looking for all the world like a matinee crowd leaving
+a theatre (that is when you crane your neck to see over their heads),
+except that the guests were without their wraps and were talking sixteen
+to the dozen, and as merry as they could be.
+
+"They are all here, Major," Peter cried, dragging me inside. It was
+wonderful how young and happy he looked. "Miss Corinne, and that loud
+Hullaballoo, Garry Minott, we saw prancing around at the supper--you
+remember--Holker gave him the ring."
+
+"And Miss MacFarlane?" I asked.
+
+"Ruth! Turn your head, my boy, and take a look at her. Isn't she a
+picture? Did you ever see a prettier girl in all your life, and one more
+charmingly dressed? Ruth, this is the Major... nothing else... just the
+Major. He is perfectly docile, kind and safe, and--"
+
+"--And drives equally well in single or double harness, I suppose,"
+laughed the girl, extending her hand and giving me the slightest dip of
+her head and bend of her back in recognition, no doubt, of my advancing
+years and dignified bearing--in apology, too, perhaps, for her metaphor.
+
+"In SINGLE--not double," rejoined Peter. "He's the sourest, crabbedest
+old bachelor in the world--except myself."
+
+Again her laugh bubbled out--a catching, spontaneous kind of laugh, as
+if there were plenty more packed away behind her lips ready to break
+loose whenever they found an opening.
+
+"Then, Major, you shall have two lumps to sweeten you up," and down went
+the sugar-tongs into the silver bowl.
+
+Here young Breen leaned forward and lifted the bowl nearer to her hand,
+while I waited for my cup. He had not left her side since Miss
+Felicia had presented him, so Peter told me afterward. I had evidently
+interrupted a conversation, for his eyes were still fastened upon hers,
+drinking in her every word and movement.
+
+"And is sugar your cure for disagreeable people, Miss MacFarlane?" I
+heard him ask under his breath as I stood sipping my tea.
+
+"That depends on how disagreeable they are," she answered. This came
+with a look from beneath her eyelids.
+
+"I must be all right, then, for you only gave me one lump--" still under
+his breath.
+
+"Only one! I made a mistake--" Eyes looking straight into Jack's, with a
+merry twinkle gathering around their corners.
+
+"Perhaps I don't need any at all."
+
+"Yes, I'm sure you do. Here--hold your cup, sir; I'll fill it full."
+
+"No, I'm going to wait and see what effect one lump has. I'm beginning
+to get pleasant already--and I was cross as two sticks when I--"
+
+And then she insisted he should have at least three more to make him at
+all bearable, and he said there would be no living with him he would be
+so charming and agreeable, and so the talk ran on, the battledoor and
+shuttlecock kind of talk--the same prattle that we have all listened
+to dozens of times, or should have listened to, to have kept our hearts
+young. And yet not a talk at all; a play, rather, in which words count
+for little and the action is everything: Listening to the toss of a curl
+or the lowering of an eyelid; answering with a lift of the hand--such
+a strong brown hand, that could pull an oar, perhaps, or help her over
+dangerous places! Then her white teeth, and the way the head bent; and
+then his ears and how close they lay to his head; and the short,
+glossy hair with the faintest bit of a curl in it. And then the sudden
+awakening: Oh, yes--it was the sugar Mr. Breen wanted, of course. What
+was I thinking of?
+
+And so the game went on, neither of them caring where the ball went so
+that it could be hit again when it came their way.
+
+When it was about to stay its flight I ventured in with the remark that
+she must not forget to give my kindest and best to her good father. I
+think she had forgotten I was standing so near.
+
+"And you know daddy!" she cried--the real girl was shining in her eyes
+now--all the coquetry had vanished from her face.
+
+"Yes--we worked together on the piers of the big bridge over the
+Delaware; oh, long ago."
+
+"Isn't he the very dearest? He promised to come here today, but I know
+he won't. Poor daddy, he gets home so tired sometimes. He has just
+started on the big tunnel and there is so much to do. I have been
+helping him with his papers every night. But when Aunt Felicia's note
+came--she isn't my real aunt, you know, but I have called her so ever
+since I was a little girl--daddy insisted on my coming, and so I have
+left him for just a few days. He will be so glad when I tell him I have
+met one of his old friends." There was no question of her beauty, or
+poise, or her naturalness.
+
+"Been a lady all her life, my dear Major, and her mother before her,"
+Miss Felicia said when I joined her afterward, and Miss Felicia knew.
+"She is not like any of the young girls about, as you can see for
+yourself. Look at her now," she whispered, with an approving nod of her
+head.
+
+Again my eyes sought the girl. The figure was willowy and graceful; the
+shoulders sloping, the arms tapering to the wrists. The hair was jet
+black--"Some Spanish blood somewhere," I suggested, but the dear lady
+answered sharply, "Not a drop; French Huguenot, my dear Major, and I am
+surprised you should have made such a mistake." This black hair parted
+in the middle, lay close to her head--such a wealth and torrent of it;
+even with tucking it behind her ears and gathering it in a coil in her
+neck it seemed just ready to fall. The face was oval, the nose perfect,
+the mouth never still for an instant, so full was it of curves and
+twinkles and little quivers; the eyes big, absorbing, restful, with lazy
+lids that lifted slowly and lay motionless as the wings of a resting
+butterfly, the eyebrows full and exquisitely arched. Had you met her in
+mantilla and high-heeled shoes, her fan half shading her face, you would
+have declared, despite Miss Felicia's protest, that only the click of
+the castanets was needed to send her whirling to their rhythm. Had she
+tied that same mantilla close under her lovely chin, and passed you with
+upturned eyes and trembling lips, you would have sworn that the Madonna
+from the neighboring church had strayed from its frame in search of the
+helpless and the unhappy; and had none of these disguises been hers, and
+she had flashed by you in the open some bright morning mounted on her
+own black mare, face aglow, eyes like stars, her wonderful hair waving
+in the wind, you would have stood stock-still in admiration, fear
+gripping your throat, a prayer in your heart for the safe home-coming of
+one so fearless and so beautiful.
+
+There was, too, about her a certain gentleness, a certain disposition
+to be kind, even when her inherent coquetry--natural in the Southern
+girl--led her into deep waters; a certain tenderness that made friends
+of even unhappy suitors (and I heard that she could not count them on
+her fingers) who had asked for more than she could give--a tenderness
+which healed the wound and made lovers of them all for life.
+
+And then her Southern speech, indescribable and impossible in cold type.
+The softening of the consonants, the slipping away of the terminals, the
+slurring of vowels, and all in that low, musical voice born out side of
+the roar and crash of city streets and crowded drawing-rooms with each
+tongue fighting for mastery.
+
+All this Jack had taken in, besides a thousand other charms visible only
+to the young enthusiast, before he had been two minutes in her presence.
+As to her voice, he knew she was one of his own people when she had
+finished pronouncing his name. Somebody worthwhile had crossed his path
+at last!
+
+And with this there had followed, even as he talked to her, the usual
+comparisons made by all young fellows when the girl they don't like is
+placed side by side with the girl they do. Miss MacFarlane was tall
+and Corinne was short; Miss MacFarlane was dark, and he adored dark,
+handsome people--and Corinne was light; Miss MacFarlane's voice was low
+and soft, her movements slow and graceful, her speech gentle--as if she
+were afraid she might hurt someone inadvertently; her hair and dress
+were simple to severity. While Corinne--well, in every one of these
+details Corinne represented the exact opposite. It was the blood! Yes,
+that was it--it was her blood! Who was she, and where did she come from?
+Would Corinne like her? What impression would this high bred Southern
+beauty make upon the pert Miss Wren, whose little nose had gone down a
+point or two when her mother had discovered, much to her joy, the week
+before, that it was the REAL Miss Grayson and not an imitation Miss
+Grayson who had been good enough to invite her daughter and any of her
+daughter's friends to tea; and it had fallen another point when she
+learned that Miss Felicia had left her card the next day, expressing to
+the potato-bug how sorry she was to hear that the ladies were out, but
+that she hoped it would only be a matter of a few days before "she
+would welcome them" to her own apartments, or words to that effect,
+Frederick's memory being slightly defective.
+
+It was in answer to this request that Mrs. Breen, after consulting
+her husband, had written three acceptances before she was willing that
+Frederick should leave it with his own hands in Fifteenth Street--one
+beginning, "It certainly is a pleasure after all these years"--which
+was discarded as being too familiar; another, "So good of you, dear
+Miss Grayson," which had a similar fate; and the third, which ran, "My
+daughter will be most happy, dear Miss Grayson, to be with you," etc.,
+which was finally sealed with the Breen crest--a four-legged beastie of
+some kind on its hind legs, with a motto explanatory of the promptness
+of his ancestors in times of danger. Even then Corinne had hesitated
+about accepting until Garry said: "Well, let's take it in, anyhow--we
+can skip out if they bore us stiff."
+
+Knowing these things, therefore, and fearing that after all something
+would happen to mar the pleasant relations he had established with
+Peter, and with the honor of his uncle's family in his keeping, so
+to speak, Jack had awaited the arrival of Corinne and Garry with
+considerable trepidation. What if, after all, they should stay
+away, ignoring the great courtesy which this most charming of old
+ladies--never had he seen one so lovable or distinguished--had extended
+to them; and she a stranger, too, and all because her brother Peter had
+asked her to be kind to a boy like himself.
+
+The entrance of Corinne and Garry, therefore, into the crowded room half
+an hour after his own had brought a relief to Jack's mind (he had
+been watching the door, so as to be ready to present them), which Miss
+Felicia's gracious salutation only intensified.
+
+"I remember your dear mother perfectly," he heard the old lady say as
+she advanced to Corinne and took both her hands. "And she was quite
+lovely. And this I am very sure is Mr. Breen's friend, Mr. Minott, who
+has carried off all the honors. I am delighted to see you both. Peter,
+do you take these dear young people and present them to Ruth."
+
+The two had thereupon squeezed through to Ruth's side; Peter in his
+formal introduction awarding to Garry all the honors to which he was
+entitled, and then Ruth, remembering her duties, said how glad she was
+to know them; and would they have lemon or sugar?--and Corinne, with a
+comprehensive glance of her rival, declined both, her excuse being that
+she was nearly dead now with the heat and that a cup of tea would finish
+her. Jack had winced when his ears caught the flippant answer, but
+it was nothing to the way in which he shrivelled up when Garry, after
+shaking Miss MacFarlane's hand as if it had been a pump-handle instead
+of a thing so dainty that no boy had a right to touch it except with
+reverence in his heart, had burst out with: "Glad to see you. From the
+South, I hear--" as if she was a kangaroo or a Fiji Islander. He had
+seen Miss MacFarlane give a little start at Garry's familiar way of
+speaking, and had noticed how Ruth shrank behind the urn as if she
+were afraid he would touch her again, although she had laughed quite
+good-naturedly as she answered:
+
+"Not very far South; only from Maryland," and had then turned to Jack
+and continued her talk with the air of one not wishing to be further
+interrupted.
+
+The Scribe does not dare to relate what would have become of one so
+sensitive as our hero could he have heard the discussion going on later
+between the two young people when they were backed into one of Peter's
+bookcases and stood surveying the room. "Miss MacFarlane isn't at all my
+kind of a girl," Corinne had declared to Garry. "Really, I can't see why
+the men rave over her. Pretty?--yes, sort of so-so; but no style, and
+SUCH clothes! Fancy wearing a pink lawn and a sash tied around her waist
+like a girl at a college commencement--and as to her hair--why no one
+has ever THOUGHT of dressing her hair that way for AGES and AGES."
+
+Her mind thus relieved, my Lady Wren had made a survey of the rooms,
+wondering what they wanted with so many funny old portraits, and whether
+the old gentleman or his sister read the dusty books, Garry remarking
+that there were a lot of "swells" among the young fellows, many of whom
+he had heard of but had never met before. This done, the two wedged
+their way out, without ever troubling Peter or Miss Felicia with their
+good-bys, Garry telling Corinne that the old lady wouldn't know they
+were gone, and Corinne adding under her breath that it didn't make any
+difference to her if she did.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+
+But Jack stayed on.
+
+This was the atmosphere he had longed for. This, too, was where Peter
+lived. Here were the chairs he sat in, the books he read, the pictures
+he enjoyed. And the well-dressed, well-bred people, the hum of low
+voices, the clusters of roses, the shaded candles, their soft rosy light
+falling on the egg-shell cups and saucers and silver service, and the
+lovely girl dispensing all this hospitality and cheer! Yes, here he
+could live, breathe, enjoy life. Everything was worth while and just as
+he had expected to find it.
+
+When the throng grew thick about her table he left Ruth's side, taking
+the opportunity to speak to Peter or Miss Felicia (he knew few others),
+but he was back again whenever the chance offered.
+
+"Don't send me away again," he pleaded when he came back for the
+twentieth time, and with so much meaning in his voice that she looked at
+him with wide-open eyes. It was not what he said--she had been brought
+up on that kind of talk--it was the way he said it, and the inflection
+in his voice.
+
+"I have been literally starving for somebody like you to talk to," he
+continued, drawing up a stool and settling himself determinedly beside
+her.
+
+"For me! Why, Mr. Breen, I'm not a piece of bread--" she laughed. "I'm
+just girl." He had begun to interest her--this brown-eyed young fellow
+who wore his heart on his sleeve, spoke her dialect and treated her as
+if she were a duchess.
+
+"You are life-giving bread to me, Miss MacFarlane," answered Jack with a
+smile. "I have only been here six months; I am from the South, too." And
+then the boy poured out his heart, telling her, as he had told Peter,
+how lonely he got sometimes for some of his own kind; and how the young
+girl in the lace hat and feathers, who had come in with Garry, was his
+aunt's daughter; and how he himself was in the Street, signing checks
+all day--at which she laughed, saying in reply that nothing would give
+her greater pleasure than a big book with plenty of blank checks--she
+had never had enough, and her dear father had never had enough, either.
+But he omitted all mention of the faro bank and of the gamblers--such
+things not being proper for her ears, especially such little pink shells
+of ears, nestling and half hidden in her beautiful hair.
+
+There was no knowing how long this absorbing conversation might have
+continued (it had already attracted the attention of Miss Felicia) had
+not a great stir taken place at the door of the outside hall. Somebody
+was coming upstairs; or had come upstairs; somebody that Peter was
+laughing with--great, hearty laughs, which showed his delight; somebody
+that made Miss Felicia raise her head and listen, a light breaking over
+her face. Then Peter's head was thrust in the door:
+
+"Here he is, Felicia. Come along, Holker--I have been wondering--"
+
+"Been wondering what, Peter? That I'd stay away a minute longer than I
+could help after this dear lady had arrived?... Ah, Miss Felicia! Just
+as magnificent and as young as ever. Still got that Marie Antoinette
+look about you--you ought really--"
+
+"Stop that nonsense, Holker, right away," she cried, advancing a step to
+greet him.
+
+"But it's all true, and--"
+
+"Stop, I tell you; none of your sugar-coated lies. I am seventy if I am
+a day, and look it, and if it were not for these furbelows I would look
+eighty. Now tell me about yourself and Kitty and the boys, and whether
+the Queen has sent you the Gold Medal yet, and if the big Library is
+finished and--"
+
+"Whew! what a cross examination. Wait--I'll draw up a set of
+specifications and hand them in with a new plan of my life."
+
+"You will do nothing of the kind! You will draw up a chair--here, right
+alongside of me, and tell me about Kitty and--No, Peter, he is not going
+to be taken over and introduced to Ruth for at least five minutes. Peter
+has fallen in love with her, Holker, and I do not blame him. One of
+these young fellows--there he is still talking to her--hasn't left her
+side since he put his eyes on her. Now begin--The Medal?--
+
+"Expected by next steamer."
+
+"The Corn Exchange?"
+
+"All finished but the inside work."
+
+"Kitty?"
+
+"All finished but the outside work."
+
+Miss Felicia looked up. "Your wife, I mean, you stupid fellow."
+
+"Yes, I know. She would have come with me but her dress didn't arrive in
+time."
+
+Miss Felicia laughed: "And the boys?"
+
+"Still in Paris--buying bric-a-brac and making believe they're studying
+architecture and--But I'm not going to answer another question.
+Attention! Miss Felicia Grayson at the bar!"
+
+The dear lady straightened her back, her face crinkling with merriment.
+
+"Present!" she replied, drawing down the corners of her mouth.
+
+"When did you leave home? How long will you stay? Can you come to
+dinner--you and Methusaleh--on Wednesday night?"
+
+"I refuse to answer by advice of counsel. As to coming to dinner, I
+am not going anywhere for a week--then I am coming to you and Kitty,
+whether it is Wednesday or any other night. Now, Peter, take him away.
+He's so puffed up with his Gold Medal he's positively unbearable."
+
+All this time Jack had been standing beside Ruth. He had heard the stir
+at the door and had seen Holker join Miss Felicia, and while the
+talk between the two lasted he had interspersed his talk to Ruth with
+accounts of the supper, and Garry's getting the ring, to which was added
+the boy's enthusiastic tribute to the architect himself. "The greatest
+man I have met yet," he said in his quick, impulsive way. "We don't
+have any of them down our way. I never saw one--nobody ever did. Here he
+comes with Mr. Grayson. I hope you will like him."
+
+Ruth made a movement as if to start to her feet. To sit still and look
+her best and attend to her cups and hot water and tiny wafers was all
+right for men like Jack, but not with distinguished men like Mr. Morris.
+
+Morris had his hand on her chair before she could move it back.
+
+"No, my dear young lady--you'll please keep your seat. I've been
+watching you from across the room and you make too pretty a picture as
+you are. Tea?--Not a drop."
+
+"Oh, but it is so delicious--and I will give you the very biggest piece
+of lemon that is left."
+
+"No--not a drop; and as to lemon--that's rank poison to me. You should
+have seen me hobbling around with gout only last week, and all because
+somebody at a reception, or tea, or some such plaguey affair, made me
+drink a glass of lemonade. Give it to this aged old gentleman--it will
+keep him awake. Here, Peter!"
+
+Up to this moment no word had been addressed to Jack, who stood outside
+the half circle waiting for some sign of recognition from the great man;
+and a little disappointed when none came. He did not know that one of
+the great man's failings was his forgetting the names even of those of
+his intimate friends--such breaks as "Glad to see you--I remember you
+very well, and very pleasantly, and now please tell me your name," being
+a common occurrence with the great architect--a failing that everybody
+pardoned.
+
+Peter noticed the boy's embarrassment and touched Morris' arm.
+
+"You remember Mr. Breen, don't you, Holker? He was at your supper that
+night--and sat next to me."
+
+Morris whirled quickly and held out his hand, all his graciousness in
+his manner.
+
+"Yes, certainly. You took the ring to Minott, of course. Very glad to
+meet you again--and what did you say his name was, Peter?" This in the
+same tone of voice--quite as if Jack were miles away.
+
+"Breen--John Breen," answered Peter, putting his arm on Jack's shoulder,
+to accentuate more clearly his friendship for the boy.
+
+"All the better, Mr. John Breen--doubly glad to see you, now that I know
+your name. I'll try not to forget it next time. Breen! Breen! Peter,
+where have I heard that name before? Breen--where the devil have I--Oh,
+yes--I've got it now. Quite a common name, isn't it?"
+
+Jack assured him with a laugh that it was; there were more than a
+hundred in the city directory. He wasn't offended at Morris forgetting
+his name, and wanted him to see it.
+
+"Glad to know it; wouldn't like to think you were mixed up in the
+swindle. You ought to thank your stars, my dear fellow, that you got
+into architecture instead of into Wall--"
+
+"But I am in--"
+
+"Yes, I know--you're with Hunt--" (another instance of a defective
+memory) "and you couldn't be with a better man--the best in the
+profession, really. I'm talking of some scoundrels of your name--Breen
+& Co., the firm is--who, I hear, have cheated one of my clients--young
+Gilbert--fine fellow--just married--persuaded him to buy some gold
+stock--Mukton Lode, I think they called it--and robbed him of all he
+has. He must stop on his house I hear. And now, my dear Miss--" here he
+turned to the young girl--"I really forget--"
+
+"Ruth," she answered with a smile. She had taken Morris's measure and
+had already begun to like him as much as Jack did.
+
+"Yes--Miss Ruth--Now, please, my dear girl, keep on being young and very
+beautiful and very wholesome, for you are every one of these things, and
+I know you'll forgive me for saying so when I tell you that I have two
+strapping young fellows for sons who are almost old enough to make love
+to you. Come, Peter, show me that copy of Tacitus you wrote me about.
+Is it in good condition?" They were out of Jack's hearing now, Morris
+adding, "Fine type of Southern beauty, Peter. Big design, with broad
+lines everywhere. Good, too--good as gold. Something about her forehead
+that reminds me of the Italian school. Looks as if Bellini might have
+loved her. Hello, Major! What are you doing here all by yourself?"
+
+Jack stood transfixed!
+
+Horror, anger, humiliation over the exposure (it was unheard, if he had
+but known it, by anyone in the room except Peter and himself) rushed
+over him in hot concurrent waves. It was his uncle, then, who had
+robbed young Gilbert! The Mukton Lode! He had handled dozens of the
+certificates, just as he had handled dozens of others, hardly glancing
+at the names. He remembered overhearing some talk one day in which his
+uncle had taken part. Only a few days before he had sent a bundle of
+Mukton certificates to the transfer office of the company.
+
+Then a chill struck him full in the chest and he shivered to his
+finger-tips. Had Ruth heard?--and if she had heard, would she
+understand? In his talk he had given her his true self--his standards
+of honor--his beliefs in what was true and worth having. When she knew
+all--and she must know--would she look upon him as a fraud? That his
+uncle had been accused of a shrewd scoop in the Street did not make his
+clerk a thief, but would she see the difference?
+
+All these thoughts surged through his mind as he stood looking into
+her eyes, her hand in his while he made his adieux. He had determined,
+before Morris fired the bomb which shattered his hopes, to ask if he
+might see her again, and where, and if there could be found no place
+fitting and proper, she being motherless and Miss Felicia but a
+chaperon, to write her a note inviting her to walk up through the Park
+with him, and so on into the open where she really belonged. All this
+was given up now. The best thing for him was to take his leave as
+quietly as possible, without committing her to anything--anything which
+he felt sure she would repudiate as soon as she learned--if she did not
+know already--how undesirable an acquaintance John Breen, of Breen &
+Co., was, etc.
+
+As to his uncle's share in the miserable transaction, there was but one
+thing to do--to find out, and from his own lips, if possible, if the
+story were true, and if so to tell him exactly what he thought of Breen
+& Co. and the business in which they were engaged. Peter's advice was
+good, and he wished he could follow it, but here was a matter in which
+his honor was concerned. When this side of the matter was presented to
+Mr. Grayson he would commend him for his course of action. To think that
+his own uncle should be accused of a transaction of this kind--his own
+uncle and a Breen! Could anything be more horrible!
+
+So sudden was his departure from the room--just "I must go now; I'm so
+grateful to you all for asking me, and I've had such a good--Good-by--"
+that Miss Felicia looked after him in astonishment, turning to Peter
+with:
+
+"Why, what's the matter with the boy? I wanted him to dine with us. Did
+you say anything to him, Peter, to hurt his feelings?"
+
+Peter shook his head. Morris, he knew, was the unconscious culprit, but
+this was not for his sister's or Ruth's ears--not, at least, until he
+could get at the exact facts for himself.
+
+"He is as sensitive as a plant," continued Peter; "he closes all up at
+times. But he is genuine, and he is sincere--that's better than poise,
+sometimes."
+
+"Well, then, maybe Ruth has offended him," suggested Miss Felicia.
+"No--she couldn't. Ruth, what have you done to young Mr. Breen?"
+
+The girl threw back her head and laughed.
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Well, he went off as if he had been shot from a gun. That is not like
+him at all, I should say, from what I have seen of him. Perhaps I should
+have looked after him a little more. I tried once, but I could not get
+him away from you. His manner is really charming when he talks, and he
+is so natural and so well bred; not at all like his friend, of whom he
+seems to think so much. How did you like him, dear Ruth?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know." She knew, but she didn't intend to tell anybody.
+"He's very shy and--"
+
+"--And very young."
+
+"Yes, perhaps."
+
+"And very much of a gentleman," broke in Peter in a decided tone. None
+should misunderstand the boy if he could help it.
+
+Again Ruth laughed. Neither of them had touched the button which had
+rung up her sympathy and admiration.
+
+"Of course he is a gentleman. He couldn't be anything else. He is from
+Maryland, you know."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+
+Reference has been made in these pages to a dinner to be given in the
+house of Breen to various important people, and to which Mr. Peter
+Grayson, the honored friend of the distinguished President of the
+Clearing House, was to be invited. The Scribe is unable to say whether
+the distinguished Mr. Grayson received an invitation or not. Breen may
+have thought better of it, or Jack may have discouraged it after closer
+acquaintance with the man who had delighted his soul as no other man
+except his father had ever done--but certain it is that he was not
+present, and equally certain is it that the distinguished Mr. Portman
+was, and so were many of the directors of the Mukton Lode, not to
+mention various others--capitalists whose presence would lend dignity to
+the occasion and whose names and influence would be of inestimable value
+to the future of the corporation.
+
+As fate would have it the day for assuaging the appetites of these
+financial magnates was the same that Miss Felicia had selected for her
+tea to Ruth, and the time at which they were to draw up their chairs but
+two hours subsequent to that in which Jack, crushed and humiliated by
+his uncle's knavery, had crept downstairs and into the street.
+
+In this frame of mind the poor boy had stopped at the Magnolia in the
+hope of finding Garry, who must, he thought, have left Corinne at home,
+and then retraced his steps to the club. He must explode somewhere and
+with someone, and the young architect was the very man he wanted. Garry
+had ridiculed his old-fashioned ideas and had advised him to let himself
+go. Was the wiping out of Gilbert's fortune part of the System? he asked
+himself.
+
+As he hunted through the rooms, almost deserted at this hour, his eyes
+searching for his friend, a new thought popped into his head, and with
+such force that it bowled him over into a chair, where he sat staring
+straight in front of him. Tonight, he suddenly remembered, was the
+night of the dinner his uncle was to give to some business friends--"A
+Gold-Mine Dinner," his aunt had called it. His cheeks flamed again when
+he thought that these very men had helped in the Mukton swindle. To
+interrupt them, though, at their feast--or even to mention the subject
+to his uncle while the dinner was in progress--was, of course, out of
+the question. He would stay where he was; dine alone, unless Garry came
+in, and then when the last man had left his uncle's house he would have
+it out with him.
+
+Biffton was the only man who disturbed his solitude. Biffy was in full
+evening dress--an enormous white carnation in his button-hole and a
+crush hat under his arm. He was booked for a "Stag," he said with
+a yawn, or he would stay and keep him company. Jack didn't want any
+company--certainly not Biffy--most assuredly not any of the young
+fellows who had asked him about Gilbert's failure. What he wanted was
+to be left alone until eleven o'clock, during which time he would get
+something to eat.
+
+Dinner over, he buried himself in a chair in the library and let his
+mind roam. Angry as he was, Ruth's image still haunted him. How pretty
+she was--how gracefully she moved her arm as she lifted the cups;
+and the way the hair waved about her temples; and the tones of her
+voice--and dear Peter, so kind and thoughtful of him, so careful that he
+should be introduced to this and that person; and Miss Felicia! What a
+great lady she was; and yet he was not a bit afraid of her. What would
+they all think of him when the facts of his uncle's crime came to their
+ears, and they MUST come sooner or later. What, too, would Peter think
+of him for breaking out on his uncle, which he firmly intended to do as
+soon as the hour hand reached eleven? Nor would he mince his words. That
+an outrage of this kind could be committed on an unsuspecting man was
+bad enough, but that it should have taken place in his own uncle's
+office, bringing into disrepute his father's and his own good name, was
+something he could not tolerate for a moment. This he intended saying to
+his uncle in so many plain words; and so leaving our hero with his
+soul on fire, his mind bent on inflammables, explosives,
+high-pressures--anything in fact that once inserted under the solid body
+of the senior Breen would blow that gentleman into space--we will betake
+ourselves to his palatial home. The dinner being an important one, no
+expense had been spared.
+
+All day long boys in white aprons had sprung from canvas-covered wagons,
+dived in Arthur Breen's kitchen and dived out again after depositing
+various eatables, drinkables and cookables--among them six pair
+of redheads, two saddles of mutton, besides such uncanny things as
+mushrooms, truffles and the like, all of which had been turned over to
+the chef, who was expressly engaged for the occasion, and whose white
+cap--to quote Parkins--"Gives a hair to the scullery which reminded
+him more of 'ome than anything 'e 'ad seen since 'e left 'is lordship's
+service."
+
+Upstairs more wonderful things had been done. The table of the
+sepulchral dining-room was transformed into a bed of tulips, the mantel
+a parterre of flowers, while the sideboard, its rear packed with the
+family silver, was guarded by a row of bottles of various sizes, shapes
+and colors; various degrees of cob webbed shabbiness, too--containing
+the priceless vintages which the senior member of the firm of Breen &
+Co. intended to set before his friends.
+
+Finally, as the dinner hour approached, all the gas jets were ablaze;
+not only the side lights in the main hall, and the overhead lantern
+which had shed its rays on Peter's bald head, but the huge glass
+chandelier hung in the middle of the satin-upholstered drawing room, as
+well as the candelabra on the mantel with their imitation wax candles
+and brass wicks--everything, in fact, that could add to the brilliancy
+of the occasion.
+
+All this, despite the orderly way in which the millionaire's house was
+run, had developed a certain nervous anxiety in the host himself, the
+effect of which had not yet worn off, although but a few minutes would
+elapse before the arrival of the guests. This was apparent in the
+rise and fall of Breen's heels, as he seesawed back and forth on the
+hearth-rug in the satin-lined drawing-room, with his coattails spread to
+the lifeless grate, and from the way he glanced nervously at the mirror
+to see that his cravat was properly tied and that his collar did not
+ride up in the back.
+
+The only calm person in the house was the ex-widow. With the eyes of a
+major-general sweeping the field on the eve of an important battle, she
+had taken in the disposition of the furniture, the hang of the curtains
+and the placing of the cushions and lesser comforts. She had also
+arranged with her own hands the masses of narcissus and jonquils on the
+mantels, and had selected the exact shade of yellow tulips which centred
+the dining-room table. It was to be a "Gold-Mine Dinner," so Arthur had
+told her, "and everything must be in harmony."
+
+Then seeing Parkins, who had entered unexpectedly and caught her in the
+act (it is bad form for a hostess to arrange flowers in some houses--the
+butler does that), she asked in an indifferent tone: "And how many are
+we to have for dinner, Parkins?" She knew, of course, having spent an
+hour over a diagram placing the guests.
+
+"Fourteen, my lady."
+
+"Fourteen!--really, quite a small affair." And with the air of one
+accustomed all her life to banquets in palaces of state, she swept out
+of the room.
+
+The only time she betrayed herself was just before the arrival of the
+guests, when her mind reverted to her daughter.
+
+"The Portmans are giving a ball next week, Arthur, and I want Corinne to
+go. Are you sure he is coming?"
+
+"Don't worry, Kitty, Portman's coming; and so are the Colonel, and
+Crossbin, and Hodges, and the two Chicago directors, and Mason, and a
+lot more. Everybody's coming, I tell you. If Mukton Lode doesn't sit up
+and take notice with a new lease of life after tonight, I'm a Dutchman.
+Run, there's the bell."
+
+The merciful Scribe will spare the reader the details incident upon
+the arrival of the several guests. These dinners are all alike: the
+announcements by the butler; the passing of the cocktails on a
+wine tray; the standing around until the last man has entered the
+drawing-room; the perfunctory talk--the men who have met before
+hobnobbing instantly with each other, the host bearing the brunt of the
+strangers; the saunter into the dining-room, the reading of cards,
+and the "Here you are, Mr. Portman, right alongside Mr. Hodges. And
+Crossbin, you are down there somewhere"; the spreading of napkins and
+squaring of everybody's elbow as each man drops into his seat.
+
+Neither will the reader be told of the various dishes or their
+garnishings. These pages have so far been filled with little else beside
+eating and drinking, and with reason, too, for have not all the great
+things in life been begun over some tea-table, carried on at a luncheon,
+and completed between the soup and the cordials? Kings, diplomats
+and statesmen have long since agreed that for baiting a trap there is
+nothing like a soup, an entree and a roast, the whole moistened by a
+flagon of honest wine. The bait varies when the financier or promoter
+sets out to catch a capitalist, just as it does when one sets out to
+catch a mouse, and yet the two mammals are much alike--timid, one foot
+at a time, nosing about to find out if any of his friends have had a
+nibble; scared at the least disturbing echo--then the fat, toothsome
+cheese looms up (Breen's Madeira this time), and in they go.
+
+But if fuller description of this special bait be omitted, there is no
+reason why that of the baiters and the baited should be left out of the
+narrative.
+
+Old Colonel Purviance, of the Chesapeake Club, for one--a big-paunched
+man who always wore, summer and winter, a reasonably white waistcoat
+and a sleazy necktie; swore in a loud voice and dropped his g's when
+he talked. "Bit 'em off," his friends said, as he did the end of his
+cigars. He had, in honor of the occasion so contrived that his black
+coat and trousers matched this time, while his shoestring tie had been
+replaced by a white cravat. But the waistcoat was of the old pattern
+and the top button loose, as usual. The Colonel earned his living--and
+a very comfortable one it was--by promoting various enterprises--some of
+them rather shady. He had also a gift for both starting and maintaining
+a boom. Most of the Mukton stock owned by the Southern contingent had
+been floated by him. Another of his accomplishments was his ability
+to label correctly, with his eyes shut, any bottle of Madeira from
+anybody's cellar, and to his credit, be it said, he never lied about the
+quality, be it good, bad or abominable.
+
+Next to him sat Mason, from Chicago--a Westerner who had made his money
+in a sudden rise in real estate, and who had moved to New York to spend
+it: an out-spoken, common-sense, plain man, with yellow eyebrows, yellow
+head partly bald, and his red face blue specked with powder marks due
+to a premature blast in his mining days. Mason couldn't tell the best
+Tiernan Madeira from corner-grocery sherry, and preferred whiskey at any
+and all hours--and what was more, never assumed for one instant that he
+could.
+
+Then came Hodges, the immaculately dressed epicure--a pale,
+clean-shaven, eye-glassed, sterilized kind of a man with a long neck
+and skinny fingers, who boasted of having twenty-one different clarets
+stored away under his sidewalk which were served to ordinary guests, and
+five special vintages which he kept under lock and key, and which were
+only uncorked for the elect, and who invariably munched an olive before
+sampling the next wine. Then followed such lesser lights, as Nixon,
+Leslie and the other guests.
+
+A most exacting group of bons vivants, these. The host had realized
+it and had brought out his best. Most of it, to be sure, had come from
+Beaver Street, something "rather dry, with an excellent bouquet," the
+crafty salesman with gimlet eyes had said; but, then, most of the old
+Madeira does come from Beaver Street, except Portman's, who has a fellow
+with a nose and a palate hunting the auction rooms for that particular
+Sunset of 1834 which had lain in old Mr. Grinnells cellar for twenty-two
+years; and that other of 1839, once possessed by Colonel Purviance,
+a wine which had so sharpened the Colonel's taste that he was always
+uncomfortable when dining outside of his club or away from the tables of
+one or two experts like himself.
+
+These, then, were the palates to which Breen catered. Back of them lay
+their good-will and good feeling; still back of them, again, their bank
+accounts and--another scoop in Mukton! Most of the guests had had a hand
+in the last deal and they were ready to share in the next. Although this
+particular dinner was supposed to be a celebration of the late victory,
+two others, equally elaborate, had preceded it; both Crossbin and Hodges
+having entertained nearly this same group of men at their own tables.
+That Breen, with his reputation for old Madeira and his supposed
+acquaintance with the intricacies of a Maryland kitchen, would outclass
+them both, had been whispered a dozen times since the receipt of his
+invitation, and he knew it. Hence the alert boy, the chef in the white
+cap, and hence the seesawing on the hearth-rug.
+
+"Like it, Crossbin?" asked Breen.
+
+Parkins had just passed down the table with a dust covered bottle which
+he handled with the care of a collector fingering a peachblow vase.
+The precious fluid had been poured into that gentleman's glass and its
+contents were now within an inch of his nose.
+
+The moment was too grave for instant reply; Mr. Crossbin was allowing
+the aroma to mount to the innermost recesses of his nostrils. It had
+only been a few years since he had performed this same trick with a
+gourd suspended from a nail in his father's back kitchen, overlooking a
+field of growing corn; but that fact was not public property--not here
+in New York.
+
+"Yes--smooth, and with something of the hills in it. Chateau Lamont, is
+it not, of '61?" It was Chateau of something-or-other, and of some
+year, but Breen was too wise to correct him. He supposed it was Chateau
+Lafitte--that is, he had instructed Parkins to serve that particular
+wine and vintage.
+
+"Either '61 or '63," replied Breen with the air of positive certainty.
+(How that boy in the white apron, who had watched the boss paste on the
+labels, would have laughed had he been under the table.)
+
+Further down the cloth Hodges, the epicure, was giving his views as
+to the proper way of serving truffles. A dish had just passed, with
+an underpinning of crust. Hodges's early life had qualified him as an
+expert in cooking, as well as in wines: Ten years in a country store
+swapping sugar for sausages and tea for butter and eggs; five more
+clerk in a Broadway cloth house, with varied boarding-house experiences
+(boiled mutton twice a week, with pudding on Sundays); three years
+junior partner, with a room over Delmonico's; then a rich wife and a
+directorship in a bank (his father-in-law was the heaviest depositor);
+next, one year in Europe and home, as vice-president, and at the
+present writing president of one of the certify-as-early-as-ten
+o'clock-in-the-morning kind of banks, at which Peter would so often laugh.
+With these experiences there came the usual blooming and expanding--all
+the earlier life forgotten, really ignored. Soon the food of the
+country became unbearable. Even the canvasbacks must feed on a certain
+kind of wild celery; the oysters be dredged from a particular cove, and
+the terrapin drawn from their beds with the Hodges' coat of arms cut
+in their backs before they would be allowed a place on the ex-clerk's
+table.
+
+It is no wonder, then, that everybody listened when the distinguished
+epicure launched out on the proper way to both acquire and serve so rare
+and toothsome a morsel as a truffle.
+
+"Mine come by every steamer," Hodges asserted in a positive tone--not to
+anybody in particular, but with a sweep of the table to attract enough
+listeners to make it worthwhile for him to proceed. "My man is aboard
+before the gang-plank is secure--gets my package from the chief steward
+and is at my house with the truffles within an hour. Then I at once take
+proper care of them. That is why my truffles have that peculiar
+flavor you spoke of, Mr. Portman, when you last dined at my house. You
+remember, don't you?"
+
+Portman nodded. He did not remember--not the truffles. He recalled some
+white port--but that was because he had bought the balance of the lot
+himself.
+
+"Where do they come from?" inquired Mason, the man from Chicago. He
+wanted to know and wasn't afraid to ask.
+
+"All through France. Mine are rooted near a little village in the
+Province of Perigord."
+
+"What roots 'em?"
+
+"Hogs--trained hogs. You are familiar, of course, with the way they are
+secured?"
+
+Mason--plain man as he was--wasn't familiar with anything remotely
+connected with the coralling of truffles, and said so. Hodges talked on,
+his eye resting first on one and then another of the guests, his voice
+increasing in volume whenever a fresh listener craned his neck, as if
+the information was directed to him alone--a trick of Hodges' when he
+wanted an audience.
+
+"And now a word of caution," he continued; "some thing that most of
+you may not know--always root on a rainy day--sunshine spoils their
+flavor--makes them tough and leathery."
+
+"Kind of hog got anything to do with the taste?" asked Mason in all
+sincerity. He was learning New York ways--a new lesson each day, and
+intended to keep on, but not by keeping his mouth shut.
+
+"Nothing whatever," replied Hodges. "They must never be allowed to bite
+them, of course. You can wound a truffle as you can everything else."
+
+Mason looked off into space and the Colonel bent his ear. Purviance's
+diet had been largely drawn from his beloved Chesapeake, and "dug-up
+dead things"--as he called the subject under discussion--didn't interest
+him. He wanted to laugh--came near it--then he suddenly remembered how
+important a man Hodges might be and how necessary it was to give him air
+space in which to float his pet balloons and so keep him well satisfied
+with himself.
+
+Mason, the Chicago man, had no such scruples. He had twice as much money
+as Hodges, four times his digestion and ten times his commonsense.
+
+"Send that dish back here, Breen," Mason cried out in a clear voice--so
+loud that Parkins, winged by the shot, retraced his steps. "I want to
+see what Mr. Hodges is talking about. Never saw a truffle that I know
+of." Here he turned the bits of raw rubber over with his fork. "No. Take
+it away. Guess I'll pass. Hog saw it first; he can have it."
+
+Hodges's face flushed, then he joined in the laugh. The Chicago man
+was too valuable a would-be subscriber to quarrel with. And, then, how
+impossible to expect a person brought up as Mason had been to understand
+the ordinary refinements of civilization.
+
+"Rough diamond, Mason--Good fellow. Backbone of our country," Hodges
+whispered to the Colonel, who was sore from the strain of repressed
+hilarity. "A little coarse now and then--but that comes of his early
+life, no doubt."
+
+Hodges waited his chance and again launched out; this time it was upon
+the various kinds of wines his cellar contained--their cost--who had
+approved of them--how impossible it was to duplicate some of them,
+especially some Johannesburg of '74.
+
+"Forty-two dollars a bottle--not pressed in the ordinary way--just the
+weight of the grapes in the basket in which they are gathered in the
+vineyard, and what naturally drips through is caught and put aside,"
+etc.
+
+Breen winced. First his truffles were criticised, and now his pet
+Johannesburg that Parkins was pouring into special glasses--cooled to an
+exact temperature--part of a case, he explained to Nixon, who sat on his
+right, that Count Mosenheim had sent to a friend here. Something must be
+done to head Hodges off or there was no telling what might happen. The
+Madeira was the thing. He knew that was all right, for Purviance had
+found it in Baltimore--part of a private cellar belonging some time in
+the past to either the Swan or Thomas families--he could not remember
+which.
+
+The redheads were now in order, with squares of fried hominy, and for
+the moment Hodges held his peace. This was Nixon's opportunity, and he
+made the most of it. He had been born on the eastern shore of Maryland
+and was brought up on canvasbacks, soft-shell crabs and terrapin--not to
+mention clams and sheepshead. Nixon therefore launched out on the habits
+of the sacred bird--the crimes committed by the swivel-gun in the hands
+of the marketmen, the consequent scarcity of the game and the near
+approach of the time when the only rare specimens would be found in the
+glass cases of the museums, ending his talk with a graphic description
+of the great wooden platters of boiling-hot terrapin which were served
+to passengers crossing to Norfolk in the old days. The servants would
+split off the hot shell--this was turned top side down, used as a dish
+and filled with butter, pepper and salt, into which toothsome bits of
+the reptile, torn out by the guests' forks, were dipped before being
+eaten.
+
+The talk now caromed from birds, reptiles and fish to guns and tackles,
+and then to the sportsmen who used them, and then to the millionaires
+who owned the largest shares in the ducking clubs, and so on to the
+stock of the same, and finally to the one subject of the evening--the
+one uppermost in everybody's thoughts which so far had not been touched
+upon--the Mukton Lode. There was no question about the proper mechanism
+of the traps--the directors were attending to that; the quality of the
+bait, too, seemed all that could be desired--that was Breen's part. How
+many mice were nosing about was the question, and of the number how many
+would be inside when the spring snapped?
+
+The Colonel, after a nod of his head and a reassuring glance from his
+host, took full charge of the field, soaring away with minute accounts
+of the last inspection of the mine. He told how the "tailings" at Mukton
+City had panned out 30 per cent, to the ton--with two hundred thousand
+tons in the dump thrown away until the new smelter was started and they
+could get rid of the sulphides; of what Aetna Cobb's Crest had done
+and Beals Hollow and Morgan Creek--all on the same ridge, and was about
+launching out on the future value of Mukton Lode when Mason broke the
+silence by asking if any one present had heard of a mine somewhere in
+Nevada which an Englishman had bought and which had panned out $1,200 to
+the ton the first week and not a cent to the square mile ever afterward?
+The Chicago man was the most important mouse of the lot, and the tone of
+his voice and his way of speaking seemed fraught with a purpose.
+
+Breen leaned forward in rapt attention, and even Hodges and Portman
+(both of them were loaded to the scuppers with Mukton) stopped talking.
+
+"Slickest game I ever heard of," continued Mason. "Two men came into
+town--two poor prospectors, remember--ran across the Englishman at the
+hotel--told the story of their claim: 'Take it or leave it after you
+look it over,' they said. Didn't want but sixty thousand for it; that
+would give them thirty thousand apiece, after which they'd quit and live
+on a ranch. No, they wouldn't go with him to inspect the mine; there
+was the map. He couldn't miss it; man at the hotel would drive him out
+there. There was, of course, a foot of snow on the ground, which
+was frozen hard, but they had provided for that and had cut a lot of
+cord-wood, intending to stay till spring. The Englishman could have the
+wood to thaw out the ground."
+
+"The Englishman went and found everything as the two prospectors had
+said; thawed out the soil in half a dozen places; scooped up the dirt
+and every shovelful panned out about twelve hundred to the ton. Then
+he came back and paid the money; that was the last of it. Began to dig
+again in the spring--and not a trace of anything."
+
+"What was the matter?" asked Breen. So far his interest in mines had
+been centred on the stock.
+
+"Oh, the same old swindle," said Mason, looking around the table, a grim
+smile on his face--"only in a different way."
+
+"Was it salted?" called out a man from the lower end of the table.
+
+"Yes," replied Mason; "not the mine, but the cord-wood. The two poor
+prospectors had bored auger holes in each stick, stuffed 'em full of
+gold dust and plugged the openings. It was the ashes that panned out
+$1,200 to the ton."
+
+Mason was roaring, as were one or two about him. Portman looked grave,
+and so did Breen. Nothing of that kind had ever soiled their hands;
+everything with them was open and above-board. They might start a
+rumor that the Lode had petered out, throw an avalanche of stock on
+the market, knock it down ten points, freezing out the helpless (poor
+Gilbert had been one of them), buy in what was offered and then declare
+an extra dividend, sending the stock skyward, but anything so low
+as--"Oh, very reprehensible--scandalous in fact."
+
+Hodges was so moved by the incident that he asked Breen if he would not
+bring back that Madeira (it had been served now in the pipe-stem glasses
+which had been crossed in finger-bowls). This he sipped slowly and
+thoughtfully, as if the enormity of the crime had quite appalled him.
+Mason was no longer a "rough diamond," but an example of what a "Western
+training will sometimes do for a man," he whispered under his breath to
+Crossbin.
+
+With the departure of the last guest--one or two of them were a little
+unsteady; not Mason, we may be sure--Jack, who had come home and was
+waiting upstairs in his room for the feast to be over, squared his
+shoulders, threw up his chin and, like many another crusader bent on
+straightening the affairs of the world, started out to confront his
+uncle. His visor was down, his lance in rest, his banner unfurled, the
+scarf of the blessed damosel tied in double bow-knot around his trusty
+right arm. Both knight and maid were unconscious of the scarf, and yet
+if the truth be told it was Ruth's eyes that had swung him into battle.
+Now he was ready to fight; to renounce the comforts of life and live
+on a crust rather than be party to the crimes that were being daily
+committed under his very eyes!
+
+His uncle was in the library, having just bowed out his last guest,
+when the boy strode in. About him were squatty little tables holding the
+remnants of the aftermath of the feast--siphons and decanters and the
+sample boxes of cigars--full to the lid when Parkins first passed them
+(why fresh cigars out of a full box should have a better flavor than
+the same cigars from a half-empty one has always been a mystery to the
+Scribe).
+
+That the dinner had been a success gastronomically, socially and
+financially, was apparent from the beatific boozy smile that pervaded
+Breen's face as he lay back in his easy-chair. To disturb a reverie
+of this kind was as bad as riding rough-shod over some good father
+digesting his first meal after Lent, but the boy's purpose was too lofty
+to be blunted by any such considerations. Into the arena went his glove
+and out rang his challenge.
+
+"What I have got to say to you, Uncle Arthur, breaks my heart, but you
+have got to listen to me! I have waited until they were all gone to tell
+you."
+
+Breen laid his glass on the table and straightened himself in his chair.
+His brain was reeling from the wine he had taken and his hand unsteady,
+but he still had control of his arms and legs.
+
+"Well, out with it! What's it all about, Jack?"
+
+"I heard this afternoon that my friend Gilbert was ruined in our office.
+The presence of these men to-night makes me believe it to be true. If
+it is true, I want to tell you that I'll never enter the office again as
+long as I live!"
+
+Breen's eyes flashed:
+
+"You'll never enter!... What the devil is the matter with you,
+Jack!--are you drunk or crazy?"
+
+"Neither! And I want to tell you, sir, too, that I won't be pointed out
+as having anything to do with such a swindling concern as the Mukton
+Lode Company. You've stopped the work on Gilbert's house--Mr. Morris
+told me so--you've--"
+
+The older man sprang from his seat and lunged toward the boy.
+
+"Stop it!" he cried. "Now--quick!"
+
+"Yes--and you've just given a dinner to the very men who helped steal
+his money, and they sat here and laughed about it! I heard them as I
+came in!" The boy's tears were choking him now.
+
+"Didn't I tell you to stop, you idiot!" His fist was within an inch of
+Jack's nose: "Do you want me to knock your head off? What the hell is it
+your business who I invite to dinner--and what do you know about Mukton
+Lode? Now you go to bed, and damn quick, too! Parkins, put out the
+lights!"
+
+And so ended the great crusade with our knight unhorsed and floundering
+in the dust. Routed by the powers of darkness, like many another gallant
+youth in the old chivalric days, his ideals laughed at, his reforms
+flouted, his protests ignored--and this, too, before he could fairly
+draw his sword or couch his lance.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+
+That Jack hardly closed his eyes that night, and that the first thing he
+did after opening them the next morning was to fly to Peter for comfort
+and advice, goes without saying. Even a sensible, well-balanced young
+man--and our Jack, to the Scribe's great regret, is none of these--would
+have done this with his skin still smarting from an older man's verbal
+scorching--especially a man like his uncle, provided, of course, he had
+a friend like Peter within reach. How much more reasonable, therefore,
+to conclude that a man so quixotic as our young hero would seek similar
+relief.
+
+As to the correctness of the details of this verbal scorching, so
+minutely described in the preceding chapter, should the reader ask how
+it is possible for the Scribe to set down in exact order the goings-on
+around a dinner-table to which he was not invited, as well as the
+particulars of a family row where only two persons participated--neither
+of whom was himself--and this, too, in the dead of night, with the
+outside doors locked and the shades and curtains drawn--he must plead
+guilty without leaving the prisoner's dock.
+
+And yet he asks in all humility--is the play not enough?--or must he
+lift the back-drop and bring into view the net-work of pulleys and
+lines, the tanks of moonlight gas and fake properties of papier-mache
+that produce the illusion? As a compromise would it not be the better
+way after this for him to play the Harlequin, popping in and out at
+the unexpected moment, helping the plot here and there by a gesture, a
+whack, or a pirouette; hobnobbing with Peter or Miss Felicia, and their
+friends; listening to Jack's and Ruth's talk, or following them at
+a distance, whenever his presence might embarrass either them or the
+comedy?
+
+This being agreed upon, we will leave our hero this bright morning--the
+one succeeding the row with his uncle--at the door of Peter's bank,
+confident that Jack can take care of himself.
+
+And the confidence is not misplaced. Only once did the boy's glance
+waver, and that was when his eyes sought the window facing Peter's desk.
+Some egg other than Peter's was nesting on the open ledger spread out on
+the Receiving Teller's desk--not an ostrich egg of a head at all, but an
+evenly parted, well-combed, well-slicked brown wig, covering the careful
+pate of one of the other clerks who, in the goodness of his heart, was
+filling Peter's place for the day.
+
+Everybody being busy--too busy to answer questions outside of payments
+and deposits--Patrick, the porter, must necessarily conduct the
+negotiations.
+
+"No, sur; he's not down to-day--" was the ever-watchful Patrick's answer
+to Jack's anxious inquiry. "His sister's come from the country and he
+takes a day off now and thin when she's here. You'll find him up at his
+place in Fifteenth Street, I'm thinkin'."
+
+Jack bit his lip. Here was another complication. Not to find Peter at
+the Bank meant a visit to his rooms--on his holiday, too--and when he
+doubtless wished to be alone with Miss Felicia. And yet how could he
+wait a moment longer? He himself had sent word to the office of Breen
+& Co. that he would not be there that day--a thing he had never done
+before--nor did he intend to go on the morrow--not until he knew where
+he stood. While his uncle had grossly misunderstood him, and, for that
+matter, grossly insulted him, he had neither admitted nor denied the
+outrage on Gilbert.
+
+When he did--this question had only now begun to loom up--where would
+he go and what would he do? There was but little money due him at the
+office--and none would come--until the next month's pay--hardly enough,
+in any event, to take him back to his Maryland home, even if that refuge
+were still open to him. What then would become of him? Peter was, in
+fact, his main and only reliance. Peter he must see, and at once.
+
+Not that he wavered or grew faint at heart when he thought of his defeat
+the night before. He was only thinking of his exit and the way to make
+it. "Always take your leave like a gentleman," was one of his father's
+maxims. This he would try his best to accomplish.
+
+Mrs. McGuffey, in white cap and snow-white apron, now that Miss Felicia
+had arrived, was the medium of communication this time:
+
+"Indeed, they are both in--this way, sir, and let me have your hat and
+coat."
+
+It was a delightful party that greeted the boy. Peter was standing on
+the hearth-rug with his back to the fire, his coat-tails hooked over
+his wrists. Miss Felicia sat by a small table pretending to sew. Holker
+Morris was swallowed up in one of Peter's big easy-chairs, only the
+top of his distinguished head visible, while a little chub of a man,
+gray-haired, spectacled and plainly dressed, was seated behind him, the
+two talking in an undertone.
+
+"Why, Breen!--why, my dear boy!--And you have a holiday, too? How did
+you know I was home?" cried Peter, extending both hands in the joy of
+his greeting.
+
+"I stopped at the Bank, sir."
+
+"Did you?--and who told you?"
+
+"The janitor, I suppose."
+
+"Oh, the good Patrick! Well, well! Holker, you remember young Breen."
+
+Holker did remember, for a wonder, and extended one hand to prove it,
+and Felicia--but the boy was already bending over her, all his respect
+and admiration in his eyes. The little chub of a man was now on his
+feet, standing in an attentive attitude, ready to take his cue from
+Peter.
+
+"And now, my boy, turn this way, and let me introduce you to my very
+dear friend, Mr. Isaac Cohen."
+
+A pudgy hand was thrust out and the spectacled little man, his eyes
+on the boy, said he was glad to know any friend of Mr. Grayson, and
+resuming his seat continued his conversation in still lower tones with
+the great architect.
+
+Jack stood irresolute for an instant, not knowing whether to make some
+excuse for his evidently inopportune visit and return later, or to keep
+his seat until the others had gone. Miss Felicia, who had not taken her
+gaze from the lad since he entered the room, called him to her side.
+
+"Now, tell me what you are all doing at home, and how your dear aunt is,
+and--Miss Corinne, isn't it? And that very bright young fellow who came
+with you at Ruth's tea?"
+
+It was the last subject that Jack wanted to discuss, but he stumbled
+through it as best he could, and ended in hoping, in a halting tone,
+that Miss MacFarlane was well.
+
+"Ruth! Oh, she is a darling! Didn't you think so?"
+
+Jack blushed to the roots of his hair, but Miss Felicia's
+all-comprehensive glance never wavered. This was the young man whom Ruth
+had been mysterious about. She intended to know how far the affair
+had gone, and it would have been useless, she knew, for Jack to try to
+deceive her.
+
+"All our Southern girls are lovely," he answered in all sincerity.
+
+"And you like them better than the New York belles?"
+
+"I don't know any."
+
+"Then that means that you do."
+
+"Do what?"
+
+"Do like them better."
+
+The boy thought for a moment.
+
+"Yes, and Miss MacFarlane best of all; she is so--so--" the boy
+faltered--"so sincere, and just the kind of girl you would trust with
+anything. Why, I told her all about myself before I'd known her half an
+hour."
+
+"Yes, she was greatly pleased." The match-making instinct was always
+uppermost in Miss Felicia's moves, and then, again, this young man had
+possibilities, his uncle being rich and he being his only nephew.
+
+"Oh, then she told you!" The boy's heart gave a great leap. Perhaps,
+after all, Ruth had not heard--at all events she did not despise him.
+
+"No, I told her myself. The only thing that seemed to worry Ruth was
+that you had not told her enough. If I remember right, she said you were
+very shy."
+
+"And she did not say anything about--" Jack stopped. He had not intended
+to put the question quite in this way, although he was still in doubt.
+Give this keen-eyed, white-haired old lady but an inkling of what was
+uppermost in his mind and he knew she would have its every detail.
+
+"About what?" Here Miss Felicia's eyes were suddenly diverted, and
+became fastened on the short figure of Mr. Isaac Cohen, who had risen
+to his feet and stood talking in the most confidential way with
+Morris--Peter listening intently. Such phrases as "Better make the
+columns of marble," from Morris, and, "Well, I will talk it over with
+the Rabbi," from the tailor, reached his ears. Further relief came when
+Miss Felicia rose from her chair with her hand extended to Morris, who
+was already taking leave of Peter and all danger was passed when host
+and hostess conducted the tailor and the architect to the door; Morris
+bending over Miss Felicia's hand and kissing it with the air of a
+courtier suddenly aroused by the appearance of royalty (he had been
+completely immersed in Cohen's talk), and the tailor bowing to her on
+his way out without even so much as touching the tips of her fingers.
+
+"There, my dear Breen," said Peter, when he had adjusted his cravat
+before the glass and brushed a few stray hairs over his temples, "that's
+a man it would do you an immense amount of good to know; the kind of a
+man you call worthwhile. Not only does he speak three languages, Hebrew
+being one of them, but he can talk on any subject from Greek temples to
+the raising of violets. Morris thinks the world of him--So do I."
+
+"Yes, I heard him say something about columns."
+
+"Oh!--then you overheard! Yes, they are for the new synagogue that
+Morris is building. Cohen is chairman of the committee."
+
+"And he is the banker, too, I suppose?" rejoined Jack, in a tone which
+showed his lack of interest in both man and subject. It was Peter's ear
+he wanted, and at once.
+
+The old man's eyes twinkled: "Banker!--not a bit of it. He's a tailor,
+my dear boy--a most delightful gentleman tailor, who works in the
+basement below us and who only yesterday pressed the coat I have on."
+Here Peter surveyed himself with a comprehensive glance. "All the
+respectable people in New York are not money mad." Then, seeing Jack's
+look of astonishment over the announcement, he laid his hand on the
+boy's shoulder and said with a twinkle of his eye and a little laugh:
+"Only one tailor--not nine--my boy, was required to make Mr. Cohen a
+man. And now about yourself. Why are you not at work? Old fellows like
+me once in a while have a holiday--but young fellows! Come!--What is
+it brings you here during business hours? Anything I can help you
+in?--anything at home?" and Peter's eyes bored holes in the boy's brain.
+
+Jack glanced at Miss Felicia, who was arranging the roses Morris had
+brought her, and then said in a half whisper: "I have had a row with my
+uncle, sir. Maybe I had better come some other day, when--"
+
+"No--out with it! Row with your uncle, eh? Rows with one's uncles are
+too commonplace to get mysterious over, and, then, we have no secrets.
+Ten chances to one I shall tell Felicia every word you say after you've
+gone, so she might as well hear it at first-hand. Felicia, this young
+fellow is so thin-skinned he is afraid you will laugh at him."
+
+"Oh, he knows better. I have just been telling him how charming he must
+be to have won Miss MacFarlane's good opinion," rejoined his sister as
+she moved her work-basket nearer her elbow.
+
+And then, with mind at rest, now that he was sure Ruth had not heard,
+and with eyes again blazing as his thoughts dwelt upon the outrage,
+he poured out his story, Miss Felicia listening intently, a curious
+expression on her face, Peter grave and silent, his gaze now on the boy,
+now on the hearth-rug on which he stood. Only once did a flash illumine
+his countenance; that was when Jack reached that part of his narrative
+which told of the denunciation he had flung in his uncle's face
+concerning the methods by which poor Gilbert had been ruined.
+
+"And you dared tell your uncle that, you young firebrand?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Grayson, I had to; what else could I say? Don't you think it
+cruel to cheat like that?"
+
+"And what did he say?" asked Peter.
+
+"He would not listen--he swore at me--told me--well, he ordered me out
+of the room and had the lights put out."
+
+"And it served you right, you young dog! Well, upon my word! Here you
+are without a dollar in the world except what your uncle pays you, and
+you fly off at a tangent and insult him in his own house--and you his
+guest, remember. Well! Well! What are we coming to? Felicia, did you
+ever hear of such a performance?"
+
+Miss Felicia made no answer. She knew from her brother's tone that there
+was not a drop of bitterness in any one of the words that fell from his
+lips; she had heard him talk that way dozens of times before, when he
+was casting about for some means of letting the culprit down the easier.
+She even detected a slight wrinkling of the corners of his mouth as the
+denunciation rolled out.
+
+Not so Jack: To him the end of the world had come. Peter was his last
+resort--that one so good and so clear-headed had not flared up at
+once over the villainy was the severest blow of all. Perhaps he WAS
+a firebrand; perhaps, after all, it was none of his business;
+perhaps--perhaps--now that Ruth would not blame him, knew nothing, in
+fact, of the disgraceful episode, it would have been better for him to
+have ignored the whole matter and taken Garry's advice.
+
+"Then I have done wrong again, Mr. Grayson?" he said at last, in so
+pleading a tone that even Miss Felicia's reserve was on the point of
+giving away.
+
+"Yes, in the manner in which you acted. Your father wouldn't have lost
+his temper and called people names. Gentlemen, my dear boy, don't do
+that sort of thing. They make up their minds about what they want to
+do and then do it quietly, and, let me say, with a certain amount of
+courtesy."
+
+"Then, what must I do?" All the fight was out of the lad now.
+
+"Why, go back to your desk in the office and your very delightful suite
+of rooms at your uncle's. Tell him you are sorry you let your feelings
+get the best of you; then, when you have entirely quieted down, you
+and I will put our heads together and see what can be done to improve
+matters. And that, let me tell you, my dear boy, is going to be rather
+a difficult thing, for you see you are rather particular as to what you
+should and should not do to earn your living." Peter's wrinkles had now
+crept up his cheeks and were playing hide and seek with the twinkles in
+his eyes. "Of course any kind of healthy work--such, for instance, as
+hauling a chain through a swamp, carrying a level, prospecting for oil,
+or copper, or gold--all very respectable occupations for some men--are
+quite impossible in your case. But we will think it out and find
+something easier--something that won't soil your hands, and--"
+
+"Please don't, Mr. Grayson," interrupted Jack. The boy had begun to see
+through the raillery now. "I will do anything you want me to do."
+
+Peter burst into a laugh and grabbed him by both shoulders: "Of course,
+my dear boy, you will do anything except what you believe to be wrong.
+That's right--right as can be; nobody wants you to do any different,
+and--"
+
+The opening of a door leading into the hall caused Peter to stop in his
+harangue and turn his head. Mrs. McGuffey was ushering in a young woman
+whose radiant face was like a burst of sunshine. Peter strained his eyes
+and then sprang forward:
+
+"Why, Ruth!"
+
+There was no doubt about it! That young woman, her cheeks like two June
+peonies, her eyes dancing, the daintiest and prettiest hat in the world
+on her head, was already half across the room and close to Peter's rug
+before Jack could even realize that he and she were breathing the same
+air.
+
+"Oh! I just could not wait a minute longer!" she cried in a joyous tone.
+"I had such a good time yesterday, dear aunt Felicia, and--Why!--it is
+you, Mr. Breen, and have you come to tell aunty the same thing? Wasn't
+it lovely?"
+
+Then Jack said that it was lovely, and that he hadn't come for any such
+purpose--then that he had--and then Peter patted her hand and told her
+she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen in all his life, and that
+he was going to throw overboard all his other sweethearts at once and
+cleave to her alone; and Miss Felicia vowed that she was the life of the
+party; and Jack devoured her with his eyes, his heart thumping away at
+high pressure; and so the moments fled until the blithesome young girl,
+saying she had not a minute to spare, as she had to meet her father,
+who would not wait, readjusted her wraps, kissed Miss Felicia on both
+cheeks, sent another flying through the air toward Peter from the tips
+of her fingers, and with Jack as escort--he also had to see a friend who
+would not wait a minute--danced out of the room and so on down to the
+street.
+
+The Scribe will not follow them very far in their walk uptown. Both were
+very happy, Jack because the scandal he had been dreading, since he had
+last looked into her eyes, had escaped her ears, and Ruth because of all
+the young men she had met in her brief sojourn in New York this young
+Mr. Breen treated her with most consideration.
+
+While the two were making their way through the crowded streets, Jack
+helping her over the crossings, picking out the drier spots for her
+dainty feet to step upon, shielding her from the polluting touch of the
+passing throng, Miss Felicia had resumed her sewing--it was a bit of
+lace that needed a stitch here and there--and Peter, dragging a chair
+before the fire, had thrown himself into its depths, his long, thin
+white fingers open fan-like to its blaze.
+
+"You are just wasting your time, Peter, over that young man," Miss
+Felicia said at last, snipping the end of a thread with her scissors.
+"Better buy him a guitar with a broad blue ribbon and start him off
+troubadouring, or, better still, put him into a suit of tin armor and
+give him a lance. He doesn't belong to this world. It's just as well
+Ruth did not hear that rigmarole. Charming manners, I admit--lovely,
+sitting on a cushion looking up into some young girl's eyes, but he will
+never make his way here with those notions. Why he should want to anger
+his uncle, who is certainly most kind to him, is past finding out. He's
+stupid, that's what he is--just stupid!"--to break with your bread
+and butter and to defy those who could be of service to you being an
+unpardonable sin with Miss Felicia. No, he would not do at all for Ruth.
+
+Peter settled himself deeper in his chair and studied the cheery blaze
+between his outspread fingers.
+
+"That's the very thing will save him, Felicia."
+
+"What--his manners?"
+
+"No--his adorable stupidity. I grant you he's fighting windmills, but,
+then, my dear, don't forget that he's FIGHTING--that's something."
+
+"But they are only windmills, and, more extraordinary still, this one is
+grinding corn to keep him from starving," and she folded up her sewing
+preparatory to leaving the room.
+
+Peter's fingers closed tight: "I'm not so sure of that," he answered
+gravely.
+
+Miss Felicia had risen from her seat and was now bending over the back
+of his chair, her spare sharp elbows resting on its edge, her two hands
+clasping his cheeks.
+
+"And are you really going to add this stupid boy to your string,
+you goose of a Peter?" she asked in a bantering tone, as her fingers
+caressed his temples. "Don't forget Mosenthal and little Perkins, and
+the waiter you brought home and fed for a week, and sent away in your
+best overcoat, which he pawned the next day; or the two boys at college.
+Aren't you ever going to learn?" and she leaned forward and kissed the
+top of his bald head.
+
+Peter's only reply was to reach up and smooth her jewelled fingers with
+his own. He remembered them all; there was an excuse, of course,
+he reminded her, for his action in each and every case. But for him
+Mosenthal--really a great violinist--would have starved, little Perkins
+would have been sent to the reformatory, and the waiter to the dogs.
+That none of them, except the two college boys, had ever thanked him for
+his assistance--a fact well known to Miss Felicia--never once crossed
+his mind--wouldn't have made any difference if it had.
+
+"But this young Breen is worth saving, Felicia," he answered at last.
+
+"From what--the penitentiary?" she laughed--this time with a slight note
+of anger in her voice.
+
+"No, you foolish thing--much worse."
+
+"From what, then?"
+
+"From himself."
+
+Long after his sister had left the room Peter kept his seat by the fire,
+his eyes gazing into the slumbering coals. His holiday had been a happy
+one until Jack's entrance: Morris had come to an early breakfast and
+had then run down and dragged up Cohen so that he could talk with him in
+comfort and away from the smell of the tailor's goose and the noise of
+the opening and shutting of the shop door; Miss Felicia had summoned
+all her good humor and patience (she did not always approve of Peter's
+acquaintances--the little tailor being one), and had received Cohen as
+she would have done a savant from another country--one whose personal
+appearance belied his intellect but who on no account must be made aware
+of that fact, and Peter himself had spent the hour before and after
+breakfast--especially the hour after, when the Bank always claimed
+him--in pulling out and putting back one book after another from the
+shelves of his small library, reading a page here and a line there, the
+lights and shadows that crossed his eager, absorbed face, an index of
+his enjoyment.
+
+All this had been spoiled by a wild, untamed colt of a boy whom he could
+not help liking in spite of his peculiarities.
+
+And yet, was his sister not right? Why bother himself any more about a
+man so explosive and so tactless--and he WAS a man, so far as years and
+stature went, who, no matter what he might attempt for his advancement,
+would as surely topple it over as he would a house of cards. That the
+boy's ideals were high, and his sincerity beyond question, was true, but
+what use would these qualities be to him if he lacked the common-sense
+to put them into practice?
+
+All this he told to the fire--first to one little heap of coals--then
+another--snuggling together--and then to the big back-log scarred all
+over in its fight to keep everybody warm and happy.
+
+Suddenly his round, glistening head ceased bobbing back and forth; his
+lips, which had talked incessantly without a sound falling from them,
+straightened; his gesticulating fingers tightened into a hard knot and
+the old fellow rose from his easy-chair. He had made up his mind.
+
+Then began a search through his desk in and out of the pigeon-holes,
+under a heap of letters--most of them unanswered; beneath a package
+tied with tape, until his eyes fell upon an envelope sealed with wax,
+in which was embedded the crest of the ancestors of the young gentleman
+whose future had so absorbed his thoughts. It was Mrs. Breen's
+acceptance of Miss Felicia's invitation to Miss MacFarlane's tea.
+
+"Ah, here it is! Now I'll find the number--yes, 864--I thought it was a
+"4"--but I didn't want to make any mistake."
+
+This done, and the note with the number and street of Jack's uncle's
+house spread out before him, Peter squared his elbows, took a sheet of
+paper from a drawer, covered it with half a dozen lines beginning "My
+dear Breen--" enclosed it in an envelope and addressed it to "Mr. John
+Breen, care of Arthur Breen, Esq.," etc. This complete, he affixed the
+stamp in the upper left-hand corner, and with the letter fast in his
+hand disappeared in his bedroom, from which he emerged ten minutes later
+in full walking costume, even to his buckskin gloves and shiny high
+hat, not to mention a brand-new silk scarf held in place by his diamond
+tear-drop, the two in high relief above the lapels of his tightly
+buttoned surtout.
+
+"No, Mrs. McGuffey," he said with a cheery smile as he passed out of
+the door (she had caught sight of the letter and had stretched out her
+hand)--"No--I am going for a walk, and I'll mail it myself."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+
+Whatever the function--whether it was a cosey dinner for the congenial
+few, a crowded reception for the uncongenial many, or a coming-out party
+for some one of the eager-expectant buds just bursting into bloom--most
+of whom he had known from babyhood--Peter was always ready with his "Of
+course I'll come--" or "Nothing would delight me more--" or the formal
+"Mr. Grayson accepts with great pleasure," etc., unless the event
+should fall upon a Saturday night; then there was certain to be a prompt
+refusal.
+
+Even Miss Felicia recognized this unbreakable engagement and made her
+plans accordingly. So did good Mrs. McGuffey, who selected this night
+for her own social outings; and so did most of his intimate friends who
+were familiar with his habits.
+
+On any other night you might, or you might not, find Peter at home,
+dependent upon his various engagements, but if you really wanted to
+get hold of his hand, or his ear, or the whole or any other part of
+his delightful body, and if by any mischance you happened to select a
+Saturday night for your purpose, you must search for him at the Century.
+To spend this one evening at his favorite club had been his custom for
+years--ever since he had been elected to full membership--a date so far
+back in the dim past that the oldest habitue had to search the records
+to make sure of the year, and this custom he still regularly kept up.
+
+That the quaint old club-house was but a stone's throw from his own
+quarters in Fifteenth Street made no difference; he would willingly have
+tramped to Murray Hill and beyond--even as far as the big reservoir, had
+the younger and more progressive element among the members picked the
+institution up bodily and moved it that far--as later on they did.
+
+Not that he favored any such innovation: "Move up-town! Why, my dear
+sir!" he protested, when the subject was first mentioned, "is there
+nothing in the polish of these old tables and chairs, rubbed bright by
+the elbows of countless good fellows, that appeals to you? Do you think
+any modern varnish can replace it? Here I have sat for thirty years or
+more, and--please God!--here I want to continue to sit."
+
+He was at his own small table in the front room overlooking the street
+when he spoke--his by right of long use, as it was also of Morris,
+MacFarlane, Wright, old Partridge the painter, and Knight the sculptor.
+For years this group of Centurions, after circling the rooms on meeting
+nights, criticising the pictures and helping themselves to the punch,
+had dropped into these same seats by the side of Peter.
+
+And these were not the only chairs tacitly recognized as carrying
+special privileges by reason of long usage. Over in the corner between
+the two rooms could be found Bayard Taylor's chair--his for years,
+from which he dispensed wisdom, adventure and raillery to a listening
+coterie--King, MacDonough and Collins among them, while near the stairs,
+his great shaggy head glistening in the overhead light, Parke Godwin
+held court, with Sterling, Martin and Porter, to say nothing of still
+older habitues who in the years of their membership were as much a part
+of the fittings of the club as the smoke-begrimed portraits which lined
+its walls.
+
+On this Saturday night he had stepped into the clubhouse with more
+than his usual briskness. Sweeping a comprehensive glance around as
+he entered, as if looking for some one in the hall, he slipped off his
+overcoat and hat and handed both to the negro servant in charge of the
+cloak-room.
+
+"George."
+
+"Yes, Mr. Grayson."
+
+"If anybody inquires for me you will find me either on this floor or in
+the library above. Don't forget, and don't make any mistake.
+
+"No, suh--ain't goin' to be no mistake."
+
+This done, the old gentleman moved to the mirror, and gave a sidelong
+glance at his perfectly appointed person--he had been dining at the
+Portmans', had left the table early, and was in full evening dress.
+
+The inspection proved that the points of his collar wanted straightening
+the thousandth part of an inch, and that his sparse gray locks needed
+combing a wee bit further toward his cheek bones. These, with a certain
+rebellious fold in his necktie, having been brought into place, the
+guardian of the Exeter entered the crowded room, picked a magazine from
+the shelves and dropped into his accustomed seat.
+
+Holker Morris and Lagarge now strolled in and drawing up to a small
+table adjoining Peter's touched a tiny bell. This answered, and the
+order given, the two renewed a conversation which had evidently been
+begun outside, and which was of so absorbing a character that for a
+moment Peter's face, half hidden by his book, was unnoticed.
+
+"Oh!--that's you, Methusaleh, is it!" cried Morris at last. "Move
+over--have something?"
+
+Peter looked up smiling: "Not now, Holker. I will later."
+
+Morris kept on talking. Lagarge, his companion--a thin,
+cadaverous-looking man with a big head and the general air of having
+been carved out of an old root--a great expert in ceramics--listening
+intently, bobbing his head in toy-mandarin fashion whenever one of
+Holker's iconoclasms cleared the air.
+
+"Suppose they did pay thirty thousand dollars for it," Holker insisted,
+slapping his knee with his outspread palm. "That makes the picture no
+better and no worse. If it was mine, and I could afford it, I would sell
+it to anybody who loved it for thirty cents rather than sell it to a man
+who didn't, for thirty millions. When Troyon painted it he put his soul
+into it, and you can no more tack a price to that than you can stick
+an auction card on a summer cloud, or appraise the perfume from a rose
+garden. It has no money value, Legarge, and never will have. You might
+as well list sunsets on the Stock Exchange."
+
+"But Troyon had to live, Holker," chimed in Harrington, who, with
+the freedom accorded every member of the club--one of its greatest
+charms--had just joined the group and sat listening.
+
+"Yes," rejoined Morris, a quizzical expression crossing his face--"that
+was the curse of it. He was born a man and had a stomach instead of
+being born a god without one. As to living--he didn't really live--no
+great painter really lives until he is dead. And that's the way it
+should be--they would never have become immortal with a box full of
+bonds among their assets. They would have stopped work. Now they can
+rest in their graves with the consciousness that they have done their
+level best."
+
+"There is one thing would lift him out of it, or ought to," remarked
+Harrington, with a glance around the circle. "I am, of course, speaking
+of Troyon."
+
+"What?" asked Morris.
+
+"The news that Roberts paid thirty thousand dollars for a picture for
+which the painter was glad to get three thousand francs," a reply which
+brought a roar from the group, Morris joining in heartily.
+
+The circle had now widened to the filling of a dozen chairs, Morris's
+way of putting things being one of the features of club nights, he, as
+usual, dominating the talk, calling out "Period"--his way of notifying
+some speaker to come to a full stop, whenever he broke away from the
+facts and began soaring into hyperbolics--Morgan, Harrington and the
+others laughing in unison at his sallies.
+
+The clouds of tobacco smoke grew thicker. The hum of conversation
+louder; especially at an adjoining table where one lean old Academician
+in a velvet skull cap was discussing the new impressionistic craze which
+had just begun to show itself in the work of the younger men. This had
+gone on for some minutes when the old man turned upon them savagely and
+began ridiculing the new departure as a cloak to hide poor drawing, an
+outspoken young painter asserting in their defence, that any technique
+was helpful if it would kill off the snuff-box school in which the man
+under the skull cap held first place.
+
+Morris had lent an ear to the discussion and again took up the cudgels.
+
+"You young fellows are right," he cried, twisting his body toward their
+table. The realists have had their day; they work a picture to death;
+all of them. If you did but know it, it really takes two men to paint a
+great picture--one to do the work and the other to kill him when he has
+done enough."
+
+"Pity some of your murderers, Holker, didn't start before they stretched
+their canvases," laughed Harrington.
+
+And so the hours sped on.
+
+All this time Peter had been listening with one ear wide open--the one
+nearest the door--for any sound in that direction. French masterpieces,
+Impressionism and the rest of it did not interest him to-night.
+Something else was stirring him--something he had been hugging to his
+heart all day.
+
+Only the big and little coals in his own fireplace in Fifteenth Street,
+and perhaps the great back-log, beside himself, knew the cause. He
+had not taken Miss Felicia into his confidence--that would never have
+done--might, indeed, have spoilt everything. Even when he had risen from
+Morris's coterie to greet Henry MacFarlane--Ruth's father--his intimate
+friend for years, and who answered his hand-shake with--"Well, you
+old rascal--what makes you look so happy?--anybody left you a
+million?"--even then he gave no inkling of the amount of bottled
+sunshine he was at the precise moment carrying inside his well-groomed
+body, except to remark with all his twinkles and wrinkles scampering
+loose:
+
+"Seeing you, Henry--" an answer which, while it only excited derision
+and a sly thrust of his thumb into Peter's ribs, was nevertheless
+literally true if the distinguished engineer did but know it.
+
+It was only when the hours dragged on and his oft-consulted watch marked
+ten o'clock that the merry wrinkles began to straighten and the eyes to
+wander.
+
+When an additional ten minutes had ticked themselves out, and then a
+five and then a ten more, the old fellow became so nervous that he began
+to make a tour of the club-house, even ascending the stairs, searching
+the library and dining-room, scanning each group and solitary individual
+he passed, until, thoroughly discouraged, he regained his seat only to
+press a bell lying among some half-empty glasses. The summoned waiter
+listened attentively, his head bent low to catch the whispered order,
+and then disappeared noiselessly in the direction of the front door,
+Peter's fingers meanwhile beating an impatient staccato on the arm of
+his chair.
+
+Nothing resulting from this experiment he at last gave up all hope
+and again sought MacFarlane who was trying to pound into the head of a
+brother engineer some new theory of spontaneous explosions.
+
+Hardly had he drawn up a chair to listen--he was a better listener
+to-night, somehow, than a talker, when a hand was laid on his shoulder,
+and looking up, he saw Jack bending over him.
+
+With a little cry of joy Peter sprang to his feet, both palms
+outstretched: "Oh!--you're here at last! Didn't I say nine o'clock, my
+dear boy, or am I wrong? Well, so you are here it's all right." Then
+with face aglow he turned to MacFarlane: "Henry, here's a young fellow
+you ought to know; his name's John Breen, and he's from your State."
+
+The engineer stopped short in his talk and absorbed Jack from his neatly
+brushed hair, worn long at the back of his neck, to his well-shod feet,
+and held out his hand.
+
+"From Maryland? So am I; I was raised down in Prince George County. Glad
+to know you. Are you any connection of the Breens of Ann Arundle?"
+
+"Yes, sir--all my people came from Ann Arundle. My father was Judge
+Breen," answered Jack with embarrassment. He had not yet become
+accustomed to the novelty of the scene around him.
+
+"Now I know just where you belong. My father and yours were friends.
+I have often heard him speak of Judge Breen. And did you not meet my
+daughter at Miss Grayson's the other day? She told me she had met a Mr.
+Breen from our part of the country."
+
+Jack's eyes danced. Was this what Peter had invited him to the club for?
+Now it was all clear. And then again he had not said a word about his
+being in the Street, or connected with it in any way. Was there ever
+such a good Peter?
+
+"Oh, yes, sir!--and I hope she is very well."
+
+The engineer said she was extremely well, never better in her life, and
+that he was delighted to meet a son of his old friend--then, turning to
+the others, immediately forgot Jack's existence, and for the time being
+his daughter, in the discussion still going on around him.
+
+The young fellow settled himself in his seat and looked about him--at
+the smoke-stained ceiling, the old portraits and quaint fittings and
+furniture--more particularly at the men. He would have liked to talk to
+Ruth's father a little longer, but he felt dazed and ill at ease--out of
+his element, somehow--although he remembered the same kind of people at
+his father's house, except that they wore different clothes.
+
+But Peter did not leave him long in meditation. There were other
+surprises for him upstairs, in the small dining-room opening out of
+the library, where a long table was spread with eatables and
+drinkables--salads, baby sausages, escaloped oysters, devilled crabs and
+other dishes dear to old and new members. Here men were met standing in
+groups, their plates in their hands, or seated at the smaller tables,
+when a siphon and a beer bottle, or a mug of Bass would be added to
+their comfort.
+
+It was there the Scribe met him for the second time, my first being the
+Morris dinner, when he sat within speaking distance. I had heard of him,
+of course, as Peter's new protege--indeed, the old fellow had talked of
+nothing else, and so I was glad to renew the acquaintance. I found him
+to be like all other young fellows of his class--I had lived among his
+people, and knew--rather shy, with a certain deferential air toward
+older people--but with the composure belonging to unconscious youth--no
+fidgeting or fussing--modest, unassertive--his big brown eyes under
+their heavy lashes studying everything about him, his face brightening
+when you addressed him. I discovered, too, a certain indefinable charm
+which won me to him at once. Perhaps it was his youth; perhaps it was a
+certain honest directness, together with a total lack of all affectation
+that appealed to me, but certain it is that not many minutes had passed
+before I saw why Peter liked him, and I saw, too, why he liked Peter.
+
+When I asked him--we had found three empty seats at a table--what
+impressed him most in the club, it being his first visit, he answered
+in his simple, direct way, that he thought it was the note of
+good-fellowship everywhere apparent, the men greeting each other as if
+they really meant it. Another feature was the dress and faces of the
+members--especially the authors, to whom Peter had introduced him, whose
+books he had read, and whose personalities he had heard discussed,
+and who, to his astonishment, had turned out to be shabby-looking old
+fellows who smoked and drank, or played chess, like other ordinary
+mortals, and without pretence of any kind so far as he could detect.
+
+"Just like one big family, isn't it, Mr. Grayson?" the boy said. "Don't
+you two gentlemen love to come here?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"They don't look like very rich men."
+
+"They're not. Now and then a camel crawls through but it is a tight
+squeeze," remarked Peter arching his gray, bushy eyebrows, a smile
+hovering about his lips.
+
+The boy laughed: "Well, then, how did they get here?"
+
+"Principally because they lead decent lives, are not puffed up with
+conceit, have creative brains and put them to some honest use," answered
+Peter.
+
+The boy looked away for a moment and remarked quietly that about
+everybody he knew would fail in one or more of these qualifications.
+Then he added:
+
+"And now tell me, Mr. Grayson, what most of them do--that gentleman, for
+instance, who is talking to the old man in the velvet cap."
+
+"That is General Norton, one of our most distinguished engineers. He is
+Consulting Engineer in the Croton Aqueduct Department, and his opinion
+is sought all over the country. He started life as a tow-boy on the Erie
+Canal, and when he was your age he was keeping tally of dump-cars from a
+cut on the Pennsylvania Railroad."
+
+Jack looked at the General in wonderment, but he was too much interested
+in the other persons about him to pursue the inquiry any further.
+
+"And the man next to him--the one with his hand to his head?"
+
+"I don't recall him, but the Major may."
+
+"That is Professor Hastings of Yale," I replied--"perhaps the most
+eminent chemist in this or any other country."
+
+"And what did he do when he was a boy?" asked young Breen.
+
+"Made pills, I expect, and washed out test tubes and retorts,"
+interrupted Peter, with a look on his face as if the poor professor were
+more to be pitied than commended.
+
+"Did any of them dig?" asked the boy.
+
+"What kind of digging?" inquired Peter.
+
+"Well, the kind you spoke of the night you came to see me."
+
+"Oh, with their hands?" cried Peter with a laugh. "Well, now, let me
+see--" and his glance roved about the room. "There is Mr. Schlessinger,
+the Egyptologist, but of course he was after mummies, not dirt; and then
+there is--yes--that sun-burned young fellow of forty, talking to Mr.
+Eastman Johnson; he has been at work in Yucatan looking for Toltec
+ruins, because he told me his experience only a few nights ago; but
+then, of course, that can hardly be said to be--Oh!--now I have it.
+You see that tall man with side-whiskers, looking like a young bank
+president--my kind--my boy--well, he started life with a pick and
+shovel. The steel point of the pick if I remember rightly, turned up a
+nugget of gold that made him rich, but he DUG all the same, and he may
+again some day--you can't tell."
+
+It had all been a delightful experience for Jack and his face showed it,
+but it was not until after I left that the story of why he had come
+late was told. He had started several times to explain but the constant
+interruption of members anxious to shake Peter's hand, had always
+prevented.
+
+"I haven't apologized for being late, sir," Jack had said at last. "It
+was long after ten, I am afraid, but I could not help it."
+
+"No; what was the matter?"
+
+"I didn't get the letter until half an hour before I reached here."
+
+"Why, I sent it to your uncle's house, and mailed it myself, just after
+you had gone out with Miss MacFarlane."
+
+"Yes, sir; but I am not at my uncle's house any more. I am staying with
+Garry Minott in his rooms; I have the sofa."
+
+Peter gave a low whistle.
+
+"And you have given up your desk at the office as well?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Bless my soul, my boy! And what are you going to do now?"
+
+"I don't know; but I will not go on as I have been doing. I can't, Mr.
+Grayson, and you must not ask it. I would rather sweep the streets.
+I have just seen poor Charley Gilbert and Mrs. Gilbert. He has not a
+dollar in the world, and is going West, he tells me."
+
+Peter reflected for a moment. It was all he could do to hide his
+delight.
+
+"And what do your people say?"
+
+"My aunt says I am an idiot, and Corinne won't speak to me."
+
+"And your uncle?"
+
+"Nothing, to me. He told Garry that if I didn't come back in three days
+I should never enter his house or his office again."
+
+"But you are going back? Are you not?"
+
+"No,--never. Not if I starve!"
+
+Peter's eyes were twinkling when he related the conversation to me the
+next day.
+
+"I could have hugged him, Major," he said, when he finished, "and I
+would if we had not been at the club."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+
+The Scribe is quite positive that had you only heard about it as he
+had, even with the details elaborated, not only by Peter, who was
+conservatism itself in his every statement, but by Miss Felicia as
+well--who certainly ought to have known--you would not have believed
+it possible until you had seen it. Even then you would have had to drop
+into one of Miss Felicia's cretonne-upholstered chairs--big easy-chairs
+that fitted into every hollow and bone in your back--looked the length
+of the uneven porch, run your astonished eye down the damp, water-soaked
+wooden steps to the moist brick pavement below, and so on to the beds of
+crocuses blooming beneath the clustering palms and orange trees, before
+you could realize (in spite of the drifting snow heaped up on the
+door-steps of her house outside--some of it still on your shoes) that
+you were in Miss Felicia's tropical garden, attached to Miss Felicia's
+Geneseo house, and not in the back yard of some old home in the far-off
+sunny South.
+
+It was an old story, of course, to Peter, who had the easy-chair beside
+me, and so it was to Morris, who had helped Miss Felicia carry out so
+Utopian a scheme, but it had come to me as a complete surprise, and I
+was still wide-eyed and incredulous.
+
+"And what keeps out the cold?" I asked Morris, who was lying back
+blowing rings into the summer night, the glow of an overhead lantern
+lighting up his handsome face.
+
+"Glass," he laughed.
+
+"Where?"
+
+"There, just above the vines, my dear Major," interrupted Miss Felicia,
+pointing upward. "Come and let me show you my frog pond--" and away we
+went along the brick paths, bordered with pots of flowers, to a tiny
+lake covered with lily-pads and circled by water-plants.
+
+"I did not want a greenhouse--I wanted a back yard," she continued,
+"and I just would have it. Holker sent his men up, and on three sides
+we built a wall that looked a hundred years old--but it is not five--and
+roofed it over with glass, and just where you see the little flight
+of stairs is the heat. That old arbor in the corner has been here ever
+since I was a child, and so have the syringa bushes and the green box
+next the wall. I wanted them all the year round--not just for three or
+four months in the year--and that witch Holker said he could do it, and
+he has. Half the weddings in town have been begun right on that bench,
+and when the lanterns are lighted and the fountain turned on outside, no
+gentleman ever escapes. You and Peter are immune, so I sha'n't waste
+any of my precious ammunition on you. And now what will you wear in your
+button-hole--a gardenia, or some violets? Ruth will be down in a minute,
+and you must look your prettiest."
+
+But if the frog pond, damp porch and old-fashioned garden had come as a
+surprise, what shall I say of the rest of Miss Felicia's house which I
+am now about to inspect under Peter's guidance.
+
+"Here, come along," he cried, slipping his arm through mine. "You have
+had enough of the garden, for between you and me, my dear Major"--here
+he looked askance at Miss Felicia--"I think it an admirable place in
+which to take cold, and that's why--" and he passed his hand over
+his scalp--"I always insist on wearing my hat when I walk here. Mere
+question of imagination, perhaps, but old fellows like you and me should
+take no chances--" and he laughed heartily.
+
+"This room was my father's," continued Peter. "The bookcases have still
+some of the volumes he loved; he liked the low ceiling and the big
+fireplace, and always wrote here--it was his library, really. There
+opens the old drawing-room and next to it is Felicia's den, where she
+concocts most of her deviltry, and the dining-room beyond--and that's
+all there is on this floor, except the kitchen, which you'll hear from
+later."
+
+And as Peter rattled on, telling me the history of this and that piece
+of old furniture, or portrait, or queer clock, my eyes were absorbing
+the air of cosey comfort that permeated every corner of the several
+rooms. Everything had the air of being used. In the library the chairs
+were of leather, stretched into saggy folds by many tired backs; the
+wide, high fender fronting the hearth, though polished so that you could
+see your face in it, showed the marks of many a drying shoe, while on
+the bricks framing the fireplace could still be seen the scratchings of
+countless matches.
+
+The drawing-room, too--although, as in all houses of its class and
+period, a thing of gilt frames, high mirrors and stiff furniture--was
+softened by heaps of cushions, low stools and soothing arm-chairs,
+while Miss Felicia's own particular room was so veritable a symphony
+in chintz, white paint and old mahogany, with cubby-holes crammed
+with knickknacks, its walls hung with rare etchings; pots of flowers
+everywhere and the shelves and mantels crowded with photographs of
+princes, ambassadors, grand dukes, grand ladies, flossy-headed children,
+chubby-cheeked babies (all souvenirs of her varied and busy life), that
+it was some minutes before I could throw myself into one of her heavenly
+arm-chairs, there to be rested as I had never been before, and never
+expect to be again.
+
+It being Peter's winter holiday, he and Morris had stopped over on their
+way down from Buffalo, where Holker had spoken at a public dinner. The
+other present and expected guests were Ruth MacFarlane, who was already
+upstairs; her father, Henry MacFarlane, who was to arrive by the next
+train, and last and by no means lest, his confidential clerk, Mr. John
+Breen, now two years older and, it is to be hoped, with considerable
+more common-sense than when he chucked himself neck and heels out into
+the cold world. Whether the expected arrival of this young gentleman had
+anything to do with the length of time it took Ruth to dress, the Scribe
+knoweth not. There is no counting upon the whims and vagaries of even
+the average young woman of the day, and as Ruth was a long way above
+that medium grade, and with positive ideas of her own as to whom she
+liked and whom she did not like, and was, besides, a most discreet and
+close-mouthed young person, it will be just as well for us to watch the
+game of battledoor and shuttlecock still being played between Jack and
+herself, before we arrive at any fixed conclusions.
+
+Any known and admitted facts connected with either one of the
+contestants are, however, in order, and so while we are waiting for old
+Moggins, who drives the village 'bus, and who has been charged by
+Miss Felicia on no account to omit bringing in his next load a certain
+straight, bronzed-cheeked, well-set-up young man with a springy step,
+accompanied by a middle-aged gentleman who looked like a soldier, and
+deliver them both with their attendant baggage at her snow-banked door,
+any data regarding this same young man's movements since the night Peter
+wanted to hug him for leaving his uncle's service, cannot fail to be of
+interest.
+
+To begin then with the day on which Jack, with Frederick, the second
+man's assistance, packed his belongings and accepted Garry's invitation
+to make a bed of his lounge.
+
+The kind-hearted Frederick knew what it was to lose a place, and so his
+sympathies had been all the more keen. Parkins's nose, on the contrary,
+had risen a full degree and stood at an angle of 45 degrees, for he had
+not only heard the ultimatum of his employer, but was rather pleased
+with the result. As for the others, no one ever believed the boy really
+meant it, and everybody--even the maids and the high-priced chef--fully
+expected Jack would turn prodigal as soon as his diet of husks had
+whetted his appetite for dishes more nourishing and more toothsome. But
+no one of them took account of the quality of the blood that ran in the
+young man's veins.
+
+It was scheming Peter who saved the day.
+
+"Put that young fellow to work, Henry," he had said to MacFarlane the
+morning after the three had met at the Century Club.
+
+"What does he know, Peter?"
+
+"Nothing, except to speak the truth."
+
+And thus it had come to pass that within twenty-four hours thereafter
+the boy had shaken the dust of New York from his feet--even to resigning
+from the Magnolia, and a day later was found bending over a pine desk
+knocked together by a hammer and some ten-penny nails in a six-by-nine
+shanty, the whole situated at the mouth of a tunnel half a mile from
+Corklesville, where he was at work on the pay-roll of the preceding
+week.
+
+Many things had helped in deciding him to take the proffered place.
+First, Peter had wanted it; second, his uncle did not want it, Corinne
+and his aunt being furious that he should go to work like a common
+laborer, or--as Garry had put it--"a shovel-spanked dago." Third, Ruth
+was within calling distance, and that in itself meant Heaven. Once
+installed, however, he had risen steadily, both in MacFarlane's
+estimation and in the estimation of his fellow-workers; especially the
+young engineers who were helping his Chief in the difficult task before
+him. Other important changes had also taken place in the two years: his
+body had strengthened, his face had grown graver, his views of life had
+broadened and, best of all, his mind was at rest. Of one thing he
+was sure--no confiding young Gilberts would be fleeced in his present
+occupation--not if he knew anything about it.
+
+Moreover, the outdoor life which he had so longed for was his again.
+On Saturday afternoons and Sundays he tramped the hills, or spent hours
+rowing on the river. His employer's villa was also always open to him--a
+privilege not granted to the others in the working force. The old tie
+of family was the sesame. Judge Breen's son was, both by blood and
+training, the social equal of any man, and although the distinguished
+engineer, being well born himself, seldom set store on such things,
+he recognized his obligation in Jack's case and sought the first
+opportunity to tell him so.
+
+"You will find a great change in your surroundings, Mr. Breen," he had
+said. "The little hotel where you will have to put up is rather rough
+and uncomfortable, but you are always welcome at my home, and this I
+mean, and I hope you will understand it that way without my mentioning
+it again."
+
+The boy's heart leaped to his throat as he listened, and a dozen
+additional times that day his eyes had rested on the clump of trees
+which shaded the roof sheltering Ruth.
+
+That the exclusive Miss Grayson should now have invited him to pass some
+days at her home had brought with it a thrill of greater delight. Her
+opinion of the boy had changed somewhat. His willingness to put up with
+the discomforts of the village inn--"a truly dreadful place," to quote
+one of Miss Felicia's own letters--and to continue to put up with them
+for more than two years, while losing nothing of his good-humor and good
+manners, had shaken her belief in the troubadour and tin-armor theory,
+although nothing in Jack's surroundings or in his prospects for the
+future fitted him, so far as she could see, to life companionship with
+so dear a girl as her beloved Ruth--a view which, of course, she kept
+strictly to herself.
+
+But she still continued to criticise him, at which Peter would rub his
+hands and break out with:
+
+"Fine fellow!--square peg in a square hole this time. Fine fellow, I
+tell you, Felicia!"
+
+He receiving in reply some such answer as:
+
+"Yes, quite lovely in fairy tales, Peter, and when you have taught
+him--for you did it, remember--how to shovel and clean up underbrush
+and split rocks--and that just's what Ruth told me he was doing when she
+took a telegram to her father which had come to the house--and he in
+a pair of overalls, like any common workman--what, may I ask, will you
+have him doing next? Is he to be an engineer or a clerk all his life?
+He might have had a share in his uncle's business by this time if he had
+had any common-sense;" Peter retorting often with but a broad smile
+and that little gulp of satisfaction--something between a chuckle and a
+sigh--which always escaped him when some one of his proteges were living
+up to his pet theories.
+
+And yet it was Miss Felicia herself who was the first to welcome the
+reprobate, even going to the front door and standing in the icy draught,
+with the snowflakes whirling about her pompadoured head, until Jack had
+alighted from the tail-end of Moggins's 'bus and, with his satchel in
+his hand, had cleared the sidewalk with a bound and stood beside her.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad to be here," Jack had begun, "and it was so good of you
+to want me," when a voice rang clear from the top of the stairs:
+
+"And where's daddy--isn't he coming?"
+
+"Oh!--how do you do, Miss Ruth? No; I am sorry to say he could not
+leave--that is, we could not persuade him to leave. He sent you all
+manner of messages, and you, too, Miss--"
+
+"He isn't coming? Oh, I am so disappointed! What is the matter, is he
+ill?" She was half-way down the staircase now, her face showing how keen
+was her disappointment.
+
+"No--nothing's the matter--only we are arranging for an important blast
+in a day or two, and he felt he couldn't be away. I can only stay the
+night." Jack had his overcoat stripped from his broad shoulders now and
+the two had reached each other's hands.
+
+Miss Felicia watched them narrowly out of her sharp, kindly eyes. This
+love-affair--if it were a love-affair--had been going on for years now
+and she was still in the dark as to the outcome. There was no question
+that the boy was head over heels in love with the girl--she could see
+that from the way the color mounted to his cheeks when Ruth's voice rang
+out, and the joy in his eyes when they looked into hers. How Ruth felt
+toward her new guest was what she wanted to know. This was, perhaps, the
+only reason why she had invited him--another thing she kept strictly to
+herself.
+
+But the two understood it--if Miss Felicia did not. There may be shrewd
+old ladies who can read minds at a glance, and fussy old men who can see
+through blind millstones, and who know it all, but give me two lovers to
+fool them both to the top of their bent, be they so minded.
+
+"And now, dear, let Mr. Breen go to his room, for we dine in an hour,
+and Holker will be cross as two sticks if we keep it waiting a minute."
+
+But Holker was not cross--not when dinner was served; nobody was
+cross--certainly not Peter, who was in his gayest mood; and certainly
+not Ruth or Jack, who babbled away next to each other. Peter's heart
+swelled with pride and satisfaction as he saw the change which two years
+of hard work had made in Jack--not only in his bearing and in a certain
+fearless independence which had become a part of his personality, but in
+the unmistakable note of joyousness which flowed out of him, so marked
+in contrast to the depression which used to haunt him like a spectre.
+Stories of his life at his boarding-house--vaguely christened a hotel by
+its landlady, Mrs. Hicks--bubbled out of the boy as well as accounts of
+various escapades among the men he worked with--especially the younger
+engineers and one of the foremen who had rooms next his own--all told
+with a gusto and ring that kept the table in shouts of merriment--Morris
+laughing loudest and longest, Peter whispering behind his hand to Miss
+Felicia:
+
+"Charming, isn't he?--and please note, my dear, that none of the dirt
+from his shovel seems to have clogged his wit--" at which there was
+another merry laugh--Peter's, this time, his being the only voice in
+evidence.
+
+"And she is such fun, Miss Felicia" (Mrs. Hicks was under
+discussion), called out Jack, realizing that he had, perhaps--although
+unconsciously--failed to include his hostess in his coterie of
+listeners. "You should see her caps, and the magnificent airs she puts
+on when we come down late to breakfast on Sunday mornings."
+
+"And tell them about the potatoes," interrupted Ruth.
+
+"Oh, that was disgraceful, but it really could not be helped--we had
+greasy fried potatoes until we could not stand them another day, and
+Bolton found them in the kitchen late one night ready for the skillet
+the next morning, and filled them with tooth powder, and that ended it."
+
+"I'd have set you fellows out on the sidewalk if I'd been Mrs. Hicks,"
+laughed Morris. "I know that old lady--I used to stop with her myself
+when I was building the town hall--and she's good as gold. And now tell
+me how MacFarlane is getting on--building a railroad, isn't he? He told
+me about it, but I forget."
+
+"No," replied Jack, his face growing suddenly serious as he turned
+toward the speaker; "the company is building the road. We have only got
+a fill of half a mile and then a tunnel of a mile more."
+
+Miss Felicia beamed sententiously when Jack said "we," but she did not
+interrupt the speaker.
+
+"And what sort of cutting?" continued the architect in a tone that
+showed his entire familiarity with work of the kind.
+
+"Gneiss rock for eleven hundred feet and then some mica schist that
+we have had to shore up every time we move our drills," answered Jack
+quietly.
+
+"Any cave-ins?" Morris was leaning forward now, his eyes riveted on the
+boy's. What information he wanted he felt sure he now could get.
+
+"Not yet, but plenty of water. We struck a spring last week" (this time
+the "we" didn't seem so preposterous) "that came near drowning us out,
+but we managed to keep it under with a six-inch centrifugal; but it
+meant pumping night and day."
+
+"And when is he going to get through?"
+
+"That depends on what is ahead of us. Our borings show up all
+right--most of it is tough gneiss--but if we strike gravel or shale
+again it means more timbering, of course. Perhaps another year--perhaps
+a few months. I am not giving you my own opinion, for I've had very
+little experience, but that is what Bolton thinks--he's second in
+command next to Mr. MacFarlane--and so do the other fellows at our
+boarding house."
+
+And then followed a discussion on "struts," roof timbers and tie-rods,
+Jack describing in a modest, impersonal way the various methods used by
+the members of the staff with which he was connected, Morris, as usual,
+becoming so absorbed in the warding off of "cave-ins" that for the
+moment he forgot the table, his hostess and everybody about him, a
+situation which, while it delighted Peter, who was bursting with pride
+over Jack, was beginning to wear upon Miss Felicia, who was entirely
+indifferent as to whether the top covering of MacFarlane's underground
+hole fell in or not.
+
+"There, now, Holker," she said with a smile as she laid her hand on his
+coat sleeve--"not another word. Tunnels are things everybody wants to
+get through with as quick as possible--and I'm not going to spend all
+night in yours--awful damp places full of smoke--No--not another word.
+Ruth, ask that young Roebling next you to tell us another story--No,
+wait until we have our coffee and you gentlemen have lighted your
+cigars. Perhaps, Ruth, you had better take Mr. Breen into the
+smoking-room. Now, give me your arm, Holker, and you come, too, Major,
+and bring Peter with you to my boudoir. I want to show you the most
+delicious copy of Shelley you ever saw. No, Mr. Breen, Ruth wants you;
+we will be with you in a few minutes--" Then after the two had passed
+on ahead--"Look at them, Major--aren't they a joy, just to watch?--and
+aren't you ashamed of yourself that you have wasted your life? No arbor
+for you! What would you give if a lovely girl like that wanted you all
+to herself by the side of my frog pond?"
+
+A shout ahead from Jack, and a rippling laugh from Ruth now floated our
+way.
+
+"Oh!--OH!--" and "Yes--isn't it wonderful--come and see the arbor--" and
+then a clatter of feet down the soggy steps and fainter footfalls on the
+moist bricks, ending in silence.
+
+"There!" laughed Miss Felicia, turning toward us and clapping her
+hands--"they have reached the arbor and it's all over, and now we will
+all go out on the porch for our coffee. I haven't any Shelley that you
+have not seen a dozen times--I just intended that surprise to come to
+the boy and in the way Ruth wanted it--she has talked of nothing else
+since she knew he was coming. Mighty dangerous, I can tell you, that old
+bench. Ruth can take care of herself, but that poor fellow will be in
+a dreadful state if we leave them alone too long. Sit here, Holker,
+and tell me about the dinner and what you said. All that Peter could
+remember was that you never did better, and that everybody cheered, and
+that the squabs were so dry he couldn't eat them."
+
+But the Scribe refuses to be interested in Holker's talk, however
+brilliant, or in Miss Felicia's crisp repartee. His thoughts are down
+among the palms, where the two figures are entering the arbor, the
+soft glow of half a dozen lanterns falling upon the joyous face of the
+beautiful girl, as, with hand in Jack's, she leads him to a seat beside
+her on the bench.
+
+"But it's like home," Jack gasped. "Why, you must remember your own
+garden, and the porch that ran alongside of the kitchen, and the brick
+walls--and just see how big it is and you never told me a word about it!
+Why?"
+
+"Oh, because it would have spoiled all the fun; I was so afraid daddy
+would tell you that I made him promise not to say a word; and nobody
+else had seen it except Mr. Morris, and he said torture couldn't drag it
+out of him. That old Major that Uncle Peter thinks so much of came near
+spoiling the surprise, but Aunt Felicia said she would take care of him
+in the back of the house--and she did; and I mounted guard at the top
+of the stairs before anybody could get hold of you. Isn't it too
+lovely?--and, do you know, there are real live frogs in that pond and
+you can hear them croak? And now tell me about daddy, and how he gets on
+without me."
+
+But Jack was not ready yet to talk about daddy, or the work, or anything
+that concerned Corklesville and its tunnel--the transition had been too
+sudden and too startling. To be fired from a gun loaded with care, hard
+work and anxiety--hurled through hours of winter travel and landed at a
+dinner-table next some charming young woman, was an experience which had
+occurred to him more than once in the past two years. But to be thrust
+still further into space until he reached an Elysium replete with
+whispering fountains, flowering vines and the perfume of countless
+blossoms--the whole tucked away in a cosey arbor containing a seat for
+two--AND NO MORE--and this millions of miles away, so far as he could
+see, from the listening ear or watchful eye of mortal man or woman--and
+with Ruth, too--the tips of whose fingers were so many little shrines
+for devout kisses--that was like having been transported into Paradise.
+
+"Oh, please let me look around a little," he begged at last. "And this
+is why you love to come here?"
+
+"Yes--wouldn't you?"
+
+"I would not live anywhere else if I could--and it has just the air
+of summer--and it feels like a summer's night, too--as if the moon was
+coming up somewhere."
+
+Ruth's delight equalled his own; she must show him the new tulips just
+sprouting, taking down a lantern so that he could see the better; and he
+must see how the jessamine was twisted in and out the criss-cross slats
+of the trellis, so that the flowers bloomed both outside and in; and
+the little gully in the flagging of the pavement through which ran the
+overflow of the tiny pond--till the circuit of the garden was made and
+they were again seated on the dangerous bench, with a cushion tucked
+behind her beautiful shoulders.
+
+They talked of the tunnel and when it would be finished; and of the
+village people and whom they liked and whom they didn't--and why--and of
+Corinne, whose upturned little nose and superior, dominating airs
+Ruth thought were too funny for words; and of her recently announced
+engagement to Garry Minott, who had started for himself in business and
+already had a commission to build a church at Elm Crest--known to
+all New Jersey as Corklesville until the real-estate agencies
+took possession of its uplands--Jack being instrumental, with Mr.
+MacFarlane's help, in securing him the order; and of the dinner to be
+given next week at Mrs. Brent Foster's on Washington Square, to which
+they were both invited, thanks to Miss Felicia for Ruth's invitation,
+and thanks to Peter for that of Jack, who, at Peter's request, had
+accompanied him one afternoon to one of Mrs. Foster's receptions, where
+he had made so favorable an impression that he was at once added to Mrs.
+Foster's list of eligible young men--the same being a scarce article.
+They had discussed, I say, all these things and many more, in sentences,
+the Scribe devoutly hopes, much shorter than the one he has just
+written--when in a casual--oh, so casual a way--merely as a matter of
+form--Ruth asked him if he really must go back to Corklesville in the
+morning.
+
+"Yes," answered Jack--"there is no one to take charge of the new battery
+but myself, and we have ten holes already filled for blasting."
+
+"But isn't it only to put the two wires together? Daddy explained it to
+me."
+
+"Yes--but at just the right moment. Half a minute too early might ruin
+weeks of work. We have some supports to blow out. Three charges are at
+their bases--everything must go off together."
+
+"But it is such a short visit."
+
+Some note in her voice rang through Jack's ears and down into his heart.
+In all their intercourse--and it had been a free and untrammelled one
+so far as their meetings and being together were concerned--there was
+invariably a barrier which he could never pass, and one that he was
+always afraid to scale. This time her face was toward him, the rosy
+light bathing her glorious hair and the round of her dimpled cheek. For
+an instant a half-regretful smile quivered on her lips, and then faded
+as if some indrawn sigh had strangled it.
+
+Jack's heart gave a bound.
+
+"Are you really sorry to have me go, Miss Ruth?" he asked, searching her
+eyes.
+
+"Why should I not be? Is not this better than Mrs. Hicks's, and Aunt
+Felicia would love to have you stay--she told me so at dinner."
+
+"But you, Miss Ruth?" He had moved a trifle closer--so close that his
+eager fingers almost touched her own: "Do you want me to stay?"
+
+"Why, of course, we all want you to stay. Uncle Peter has talked of
+nothing else for days."
+
+"But do you want me to stay, Miss Ruth?"
+
+She lifted her head and looked him fearlessly in the eyes:
+
+"Yes, I do--now that you will have it that way. We are going to have a
+sleigh-ride to-morrow, and I know you would love the open country, it is
+so beautiful, and so is--"
+
+"Ruth! Ruth! you dear child," came a voice--"are you two never coming
+in?--the coffee is stone cold."
+
+"Yes, Aunt Felicia, right away. Run, Mr. Breen--" and she flew up the
+brick path.
+
+For the second time Miss Felicia's keen, kindly eyes scanned the young
+girl's face, but only a laugh, the best and surest of masks, greeted
+her.
+
+"He thinks it all lovely," Ruth rippled out. "Don't you, Mr. Breen?"
+
+"Lovely? Why, it is the most wonderful place I ever saw; I could hardly
+believe my senses. I am quite sure old Aunt Hannah is cooking behind
+that door--" here he pointed to the kitchen--"and that poor old Tom will
+come hobbling along in a minute with 'dat mis'ry' in his back. How in
+the world you ever did it, and what--"
+
+"And did you hear my frogs?" interrupted his hostess.
+
+"Of course he didn't, Felicia," broke in Peter. "What a question to
+ask a man! Listen to the croakings of your miserable tadpoles with
+the prettiest girl in seven counties--in seven States, for that
+matter--sitting beside him! Oh!--you needn't look, you minx! If he
+heard a single croak he ought to be ducked in the puddle--and then
+packed off home soaking wet."
+
+"And that is what he is going to do himself," rejoined Ruth, dropping
+into a chair which Peter had drawn up for her.
+
+"Do what!" cried Peter.
+
+"Pack himself off--going by the early train--nothing I can do or say has
+made the slightest impression on him," she said with a toss of her head.
+
+Jack raised his hands in protest, but Peter wouldn't listen.
+
+"Then you'll come back, sir, on Saturday and stay until Monday, and then
+we'll all go down together and you'll take Ruth across the ferry to her
+father's.
+
+"Thank you, sir, but I am afraid I can't. You see, it all depends on the
+work--" this last came with a certain tone of regret.
+
+"But I'll send MacFarlane a note, and have you detailed as an escort of
+one to bring his only daughter----"
+
+"It would not do any good, Mr. Grayson."
+
+"Stop your nonsense, Jack--" Peter called him so now--"You come back for
+Sunday." These days with the boy were the pleasantest of his life.
+
+"Well, I would love to--" Here his eyes sought, Ruth--"but we have an
+important blast to make, and we are doing our best to get things into
+shape before the week is out."
+
+"Well, but suppose it isn't ready?" demanded Peter.
+
+"But it will be," answered Jack in a more positive tone; this part of
+the work was in his hands.
+
+"Well, anyhow, send me a telegram."
+
+"I will send it, sir, but I am afraid it won't help matters. Miss Ruth
+knows how delighted I would be to return here and see her safe home."
+
+"Whether she does or whether she doesn't," broke in Miss Felicia,
+"hasn't got a single thing to do with it, Peter. You just go back to
+your work, Mr. Breen, and look after your gunpowder plots, or
+whatever you call them, and if some one of these gentlemen of elegant
+leisure--not one of whom so far has offered his services--cannot manage
+to escort you to your father's house, Ruth, I will take you myself. Now
+come inside the drawing-room, every one of you, or you will all blame me
+for undermining your precious healths--you, too, Major, and bring your
+cigars with you. So you don't drop your ashes into my tea-caddy, I don't
+care where you throw them."
+
+It was late in the afternoon of the second day when the telegram
+arrived, a delay which caused no apparent suffering to any one except,
+perhaps, Peter, who wandered about with a "Nothing from Jack yet, eh?"
+A question which no one answered, it being addressed to nobody in
+particular, unless it was to Ruth, who had started at every ring of the
+door-bell. As to Miss Felicia--she had already dismissed the young man
+from her mind.
+
+When it did arrive there was a slight flutter of interest, but nothing
+more; Miss Felicia laying down her book, Ruth asking in indifferent
+tones--even before the despatch was opened--"Is he coming?" and Morris,
+who was playing chess with Peter, holding his pawn in mid-air until the
+interruption was over.
+
+Not so Peter--who with a joyous "Didn't I tell you the boy would keep
+his promise--" sprang from his chair, nearly upsetting the chess-board
+in his eagerness to hear from Jack, an eagerness shared by Ruth, whose
+voice again rang out, this time in an anxious tone,
+
+"Hurry up, Uncle Peter--is he coming?"
+
+Peter made no answer; he was staring straight at the open slip, his face
+deathly pale, his hand trembling.
+
+"I'll tell you all about it in a minute, dear," he said at last with a
+forced smile. Then he touched Morris's arm and the two left the room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+
+The Scribe would willingly omit this chapter. Dying men, hurrying
+doctors, improvised stretchers made of wrenched fence rails; silent,
+slow-moving throngs following limp, bruised bodies,--are not pleasant
+objects to write about and should be disposed of as quickly as possible.
+
+Exactly whose fault it was nobody knew; if any one did, no one ever
+told. Every precaution had been taken each charge had been properly
+placed and tamped; all the fulminates inspected and the connections made
+with the greatest care. As to the battery--that was known to be half a
+mile away in the pay shanty, lying on Jack Breen's table.
+
+Nor was the weather unfavorable. True, there had been rain the day
+before, starting a general thaw, but none of the downpour had soaked
+through the outer crust of the tunnel to the working force inside and
+no extra labor had devolved on the pumps. This, of course, upset
+all theories as to there having been a readjustment of surface rock,
+dangerous sometimes, to magnetic connections.
+
+Then again, no man understood tunnel construction better than Henry
+MacFarlane, C.E., Member of the American Society of Engineers, Fellow
+of the Institute of Sciences, etc., etc. Nor was there ever an engineer
+more careful of his men. Indeed, it was his boast that he had never lost
+a life by a premature discharge in the twenty years of his experience.
+Nor did the men, those who worked under him--those who escaped
+alive--come to any definite conclusion as to the cause of the
+catastrophe: the night and day gang, I mean,--those who breathed the
+foul air, who had felt the chill of the clammy interior and who were
+therefore familiar with the handling of explosives and the proper
+tamping of the charges--a slip of the steel meaning instantaneous
+annihilation.
+
+The Beast knew and could tell if he chose.
+
+I say "The Beast," for that is what MacFarlane's tunnel was to me. To
+the passer-by and to the expert, it was, of course, merely a short cut
+through the steep hills flanking one end of the huge "earth fill" which
+MacFarlane was constructing across the Corklesville brook, and which,
+when completed would form a road-bed for future trains; but to me it was
+always The Beast.
+
+This illusion was helped by its low-browed, rocky head, crouching close
+to the end of the "fill," its length concealed in the clefts of the
+rocks--as if lying in wait for whatever crossed its path--as well as its
+ragged, half-round, catfish gash of a mouth from out of which poured at
+regular intervals a sickening breath--yellow, blue, greenish often--and
+from which, too, often came dulled explosions, followed by belchings of
+debris which centipedes of cars dragged clear of its slimy lips.
+
+So I reiterate, The Beast knew.
+
+Every day the gang had bored and pounded and wrenched, piercing his
+body with nervous, nagging drills; propping up his backbone, cutting
+out tender bits of flesh, carving--bracing--only to carve again. He had
+tried to wriggle and twist, but the mountain had held him fast. Once he
+had straightened out, smashing the tiny cars and the tugging locomotive;
+breaking a leg and an arm, and once a head, but the devils had begun
+again, boring and digging and the cruel wound was opened afresh. Another
+time, after a big rain, with the help of some friendly rocks who had
+rushed down to his help, he had snapped his jaws tight shut, penning the
+devils up inside, but a hundred others had wrenched them open, breaking
+his teeth, shoring up his lips with iron beams, tearing out what was
+left of his tongue. He could only sulk now, breathing hard and grunting
+when the pain was unbearable. One thought comforted him, and one only:
+Far back in his bulk he knew of a thin place in his hide,--so thin,
+owing to a dip in the contour of the hill,--that but a few yards of
+overlying rock and earth lay between it and the free air.
+
+Here his tormentors had stopped; why, he could not tell until he began
+to keep tally of what had passed his mouth: The long trains of cars
+had ceased; so had the snorting locomotives; so had the steam drills.
+Curious-looking boxes and kegs were being passed in, none of which
+ever came back; men with rolls of paper on which were zigzag markings
+stumbled inside, stayed an hour and stumbled out again; these men wore
+no lamps in their hats and were better dressed than the others. Then a
+huge wooden drum wrapped with wire was left overnight outside his lips
+and unrolled the next morning, every yard of it being stretched so far
+down his throat that he lost all track of it.
+
+On the following morning work of every kind ceased; not a man with a
+lamp anywhere--and these The Beast hated most; that is, none that he
+could see or feel. After an hour or more the head man arrived and with
+two others went inside. The head man was tall and fair, had gray side
+whiskers and wore a slouch hat; the second man was straight and well
+built, with a boyish face tanned by the weather. The third man was short
+and fat: this one carried a plan. Behind the three walked five other
+men.
+
+All were talking.
+
+"The dip is to the eastward," the head man said. "The uplift ought to
+clear things so we won't have to handle the stuff twice. Hard to rig
+derricks on that slope. Let's have powder enough, anyhow, Bolton."
+
+The fat man nodded and consulted his plan with the help of his
+eye-glasses. Then the three men and the five men passed in out of
+hearing.
+
+The Beast was sure now. The men were going to blow out the side of the
+hill where his hide was thinnest so as to make room for an air-shaft.
+
+An hour later a gang in charge of a red-shirted foreman who were
+shifting a section of toy track on the "fill" felt the earth shake under
+them. Then came a dull roar followed by a cloud of yellow smoke mounting
+skyward from an opening high up on the hillside. Flashing through this
+cloud leaped tongues of flame intermingled with rocks and splintered
+trees. From the tunnel's mouth streamed a thin, steel-colored gas that
+licked its way along the upper edges of the opening and was lost in the
+underbrush fringing its upper lip.
+
+"What's that?" muttered the red-shirted foreman--"that ain't no
+blast--My God!--they're blowed up!"
+
+He sprang on a car and waved his arms with all his might: "Drop them
+shovels! Git to the tunnel, every man of ye: here,--this way!" and he
+plunged on, the men scrambling after him.
+
+The Beast was a magnet now, drawing everything to its mouth. Gangs
+of men swarmed up the side of the hill; stumbling, falling; picking
+themselves up only to stumble and fall again. Down the railroad tracks
+swept a repair squad who had been straightening a switch, their foreman
+in the lead. From out of the cabins bareheaded women and children ran
+screaming.
+
+The end of the "fill" nearest the tunnel was now black with people;
+those nearest to the opening were shielding their faces from the
+deadly gas. The roar of voices was incessant; some shouted from sheer
+excitement; others broke into curses, shaking their fists at The Beast;
+blaming the management. All about stood shivering women with white
+faces, some chewing the corners of their shawls in their agony.
+
+Then a cry clearer than the others soared above the heads of the
+terror-stricken mob as a rescue gang made ready to enter the tunnel:
+
+"Water! Water! Get a bucket, some of ye! Ye can't live in that smoke
+yet! Tie your mouth up if you're going in! Wet it, damn ye!--do ye want
+to be choked stiff!"
+
+A shrill voice now cut the air.
+
+"It's the boss and the clerk and Mr. Bolton that's catched!"
+
+"Yes--and a gang from the big shanty; I seen 'em goin' in," shouted back
+the red-shirted foreman.
+
+The volunteers--big, brawny men, who, warned by the foreman, had been
+binding wet cloths over their mouths, now sprang forward, peering
+into the gloom. Then the sound of footsteps was heard--nearer--nearer.
+Groping through the blue haze stumbled a man, his shirt sleeve shielding
+his mouth. On he came, staggering from side to side, reached the edge of
+the mouth and pitched head-foremost as the fresh air filled his lungs. A
+dozen hands dragged him clear. It was Bolton.
+
+His clothes were torn and scorched; his face blackened; his left hand
+dripping blood. Two of the shanty gang were next hauled out and laid on
+the back of an overturned dirt car. They had been near the mouth when
+the explosion came, and throwing themselves flat had crawled toward the
+opening.
+
+Bolton was still unconscious, but the two shanty men gasped out the
+terrible facts: "The boss and the clerk, was jes' starting out when
+everything let go"; they choked; "ther' ain't nothing left of the other
+men. We passed the boss and the clerk; they was blowed agin a car; the
+boss was stove up, the clerk was crawlin' toward him. They'll never git
+out alive: none on 'em. We fellers was jes' givin' up when we see the
+daylight and heared you a-yellin'."
+
+A hush now fell on the mass of people, broken by the piercing shriek
+of a woman,--the wife of a shanty man. She would have rushed in had not
+some one held her.
+
+Bolton sat up, gazing stupidly about him. Part of the story of the
+escaped men had reached his ears. He struggled to his feet and staggerd
+toward the opening of the tunnel. The red-shirted foreman caught him
+under the armpits and whirled him back.
+
+"That ain't no place for you!" he cried--"I'll go!"
+
+A muffled cry was heard. It came from a bystander lying flat on his
+belly inside the mouth: he had crawled in as far as he could.
+
+"Here they come!"
+
+New footfalls grew distinct, whether one or more the listeners could not
+make out. Under the shouts of the red-shirted foreman to give them air,
+the throng fell back.
+
+Out of the grimy smoke two figures slowly loomed up; one carried the
+other on his back; whether shanty men or not, no one could tell.
+
+The crowd, no longer controlled by the foreman, surged about the
+opening. Ready hands were held out, but the man carrying his comrade
+waved them aside and staggered on, one hand steadying his load, the
+other hanging loose. The big foreman started to rush in, but stopped.
+Something in the burdened man's eye had checked him, it was as if a team
+were straining up a steep hill, making any halt fatal.
+
+"It's the boss and the clerk!" shouted the foreman. "Fall back,
+men,--fall back, damn ye!"
+
+The man came straight on, reached the lips of the opening, lunged
+heavily to the right, tried to steady his burden and fell headlong.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+
+The street lamps were already lighted on the following afternoon--when
+Ruth, with Peter and Miss Felicia, alighted at the small station of
+Corklesville. All through the day she had gone over in her mind the
+words of the despatch:
+
+Explosion in tunnel. MacFarlane hurt--serious--will recover. Break news
+gently to daughter.
+
+Bolton Asst. Engineer
+
+Other despatches had met the party on the way down; one saying, "No
+change," signed by the trained nurse, and a second one from Bolton
+in answer to one of Peter's: "Three men killed--others escaped.
+MacFarlane's operation successful. Explosion premature."
+
+Their anxiety only increased: Why hadn't Jack telegraphed? Why leave it
+to Bolton? Why was there no word of him,--and yet how could Bolton have
+known that Peter was with Ruth, except from young Breen. In this mortal
+terror Peter had wired from Albany: "Is Breen hurt?" but no answer had
+been received at Poughkeepsie. There had not been time for it, perhaps,
+but still there was no answer, nor had his name been mentioned in any of
+the other telegrams. That in itself was ominous.
+
+This same question Ruth had asked herself a dozen times. Jack was to
+have had charge of the battery--he had told her so. Was he one of the
+killed?--why didn't somebody tell her?--why hadn't Mr. Bolton said
+something?--why--why--Then the picture of her father's mangled body
+would rise before her and all thought of Jack pass out of her mind.
+
+As the train rolled into the grimy station she was the first to spring
+from the car; she knew the way best, and the short cut from the station
+to where her father lay. Her face was drawn; her eyes bloodshot from
+restrained tears--all the color gone from her cheeks.
+
+"You bring Aunt Felicia, Uncle Peter,--and the bags;--I will go ahead,"
+she said, tying her veil so as to shield her face. "No, I won't wait for
+anything."
+
+News of Ruth's expected arrival had reached the village, and the crowd
+at the station had increased. On its inner circle, close to a gate
+leading from the platform, stood a young man in a slouch hat, with his
+left wrist bandaged. The arm had hung in a sling until the train rolled
+in, then the silk support had been slipped and hidden in his pocket.
+Under the slouch hat, the white edge of a bandage was visible which
+the wearer vainly tried to conceal by pulling the hat further on
+his head,--this subterfuge also concealed a dark scar on his temple.
+Whenever the young man pressed closer to the gate, the crowd would fall
+back as if to give him room. Now and then one would come up, grab his
+well hand and pat his shoulder approvingly. He seemed to be as much an
+object of interest as the daughter of the injured boss.
+
+When Ruth gained the gate the wounded man laid his fingers on her gloved
+wrist. The girl started back, peered into his face, and uttered a cry of
+relief.
+
+"Mr. Breen!" For one wild moment a spirit of overwhelming joy welled up
+in her heart and shone out of her eyes. Thank God he was not dead!
+
+"Yes, Miss Ruth,--what is left of me. I wanted to see you as soon as you
+reached here. You must not be alarmed about your father." The voice did
+not sound like Jack's.
+
+"Is he worse? Tell me quick!" she exclaimed, the old fear confronting
+her.
+
+"No. He is all right," he wheezed, "and is going to get well. His left
+arm is broken and his head badly cut, but he is out of danger. The
+doctor told me so an hour ago."
+
+"And you?" she pleaded, clinging to his proffered hand.
+
+"Oh! I am all right, too. The smoke got into my throat so I croak, but
+that is nothing. Why, Mr. Grayson,--and Miss Felicia! I am so glad, Miss
+Ruth, that you did not have to come alone! This way, everybody."
+
+Without other words they hurried into the carriage, driving like mad for
+the cottage, a mile away; all the worn look gone from Ruth's face.
+
+"And you're not hurt, my boy?" asked Peter in a trembling voice--Jack's
+well hand in his own.
+
+"No, only a few scratches, sir; that's all. Bolton's hand's in a bad
+way, though; lose two of his fingers, I'm afraid."
+
+"And how did you escape?"
+
+"I don't know. I got out the best way I could. First thing I knew I was
+lying on the grass and some one was pouring water over my head; then
+they got me home and put me to bed."
+
+"And MacFarlane?"
+
+"Oh, he came along with me. I had to help him some."
+
+Peter heaved a sigh of relief, then he asked:
+
+"How did it happen?"
+
+"Nobody knows. One of the shanty men might have dropped a box of
+fulminates. Poor fellow,--he never knew; they could find nothing of
+him," Jack whispered behind his hand so Ruth would not hear.
+
+"But when did you get out of bed?" continued Peter. He was less anxious
+now.
+
+Jack looked at Ruth and again lowered his voice; the sound of the
+carriage preventing its hoarse notes from reaching her ears.
+
+"About half an hour ago, sir; they don't know I have gone, but I didn't
+want anybody to frighten Miss Ruth. I don't look so bad, do I? I fixed
+myself up as well as I could. I have got on Bolton's hat; I couldn't
+get mine over the bandages. My wrist is the worst--sprained badly, the
+doctor says."
+
+If Ruth heard she made no answer, nor did she speak during the ride. Now
+and then she would gaze out of the window and once her fingers tightened
+on Miss Felicia's arm as she passed in full view of the "fill" with the
+gaping mouth of the tunnel beyond. Miss Felicia was occupied in watching
+Jack. In fact, she had not taken her eyes from him since they entered
+the carriage. She saw what neither Peter nor Ruth had seen;--that the
+boy was suffering intensely from hidden wounds and that the strain was
+so great he was verging on a collapse. No telling what these foolish
+Southerners will do, she said to herself, when a woman is to be looked
+after,--but she said nothing of all this to Ruth.
+
+When the carriage stopped and Ruth with a spring leaped from her seat
+and bounded upstairs to her father's bedside, Miss Felicia holding
+Jack's hand, her eyes reading the boy's face, turned and said to Peter:
+
+"Now you take him home where he belongs and put him to bed; and don't
+you let him get up until I see him. No--" she continued in a more
+decided tone, in answer to Jack's protest--"I won't have it. You go to
+bed just as I tell you--you can hardly stand now."
+
+"Perhaps I had better, Miss Felicia. I am a little shaky," replied
+Jack, in a faint voice, and the carriage kept on its way to Mrs. Hicks's
+leaving the good lady on MacFarlane's porch.
+
+MacFarlane was asleep when Ruth, trembling with excitement, reached the
+house. Outside the sick room, lighted by a single taper, she met the
+nurse whose few hurried words, spoken with authority, calmed her, as
+Jack had been unable to do, and reassured her mind. "Compound fracture
+of the right arm, Miss," she whispered, "and badly bruised about the
+head, as they all were. Poor Mr. Breen was the worst."
+
+Ruth looked at her in astonishment. That was why he had not lifted his
+hat, she thought to herself, as she tiptoed into the sick room and sank
+to her knees beside her father's bed.
+
+The injured man opened his eyes, and his free hand moved slowly till it
+rested on his daughter's head.
+
+"I got an awful crack, Ruth, but I am all right now. Too bad to bring
+you home. Who came with you?"
+
+"Aunt Felicia and Uncle Peter," she whispered as she stroked his
+uninjured hand.
+
+"Mighty good of them--just like old Peter. Send the old boy up--I want
+to see him."
+
+Ruth made no answer; her heart was too full. That her father was alive
+was enough.
+
+"I'm not pretty to look at, am I, child, but I'll pull out; I have been
+hurt before--had a leg broken once in the Virginia mountains when you
+were a baby. The smoke was the worst; I swallowed a lot of it; and I am
+sore now all over my chest. Poor Bolton's badly crippled, I hear--and
+Breen--they've told you about Breen, haven't they, daughter?" His voice
+rose as he mentioned the boy's name.
+
+Ruth shook her head.
+
+"Well, I wouldn't be here but for him! He's a plucky boy. I will never
+forget him for it; you mustn't either," he continued in a more positive
+tone.
+
+The nurse now moved to the bed.
+
+"I would not talk any more, Mr. MacFarlane. Miss Ruth is going to be at
+home now right along and she will hear the story."
+
+"Well, I won't, nurse, if you don't want me to--but they won't be able
+to tell her what a fix we were in--I remember everything up to the time
+Breen dragged me from under the dirt car. I knew right away what had
+happened and what we had to do; I've been there before, but--"
+
+"There,--that will do, Mr. MacFarlane," interrupted the nurse. "Come,
+Miss Ruth, suppose you go to your room for a while."
+
+The girl rose to her feet.
+
+"You can come back as soon as I fix your father for the night." She
+pointed significantly to the patient's head, whispering, "He must not
+get excited."
+
+"Yes, dear daddy--I will come back just as soon as I can get the dust
+out of my hair and get brushed up a little," cried Ruth bravely, in the
+effort to hide her anxiety, "and then Aunt Felicia is downstairs."
+
+Once outside she drew the nurse, who had followed her, to the window so
+as to be out of hearing of the patient and then asked breathlessly:
+
+"What did Mr. Breen do?"
+
+"I don't know exactly, but everybody is talking about him."
+
+At this moment Miss Felicia arrived at the top of the stairs: she had
+heard Ruth's question and had caught the dazed expression on the girl's
+face.
+
+"I will tell you, my dear, what he did, for I have heard every word of
+it from the servants. The blast went off before he and your father had
+reached the opening of the tunnel. They left your father for dead, then
+John Breen crawled back on his hands and knees through the dreadful
+smoke until he reached him, lifted him up on his shoulders and carried
+him out alive. That's what he did; and he is a big, fine, strong, noble
+fellow, and I am going to tell him so the moment I get my eyes on him.
+And that is not all. He got out of bed this afternoon, though he could
+hardly stand, and covered up all his bruises and his broken wrist so you
+couldn't see them, and then he limped down to the station so you would
+get the truth about your father and not be frightened. And now he is in
+a dead faint."
+
+Ruth's eyes flamed and the color left her cheeks. She stretched out both
+hands as if to keep from falling.
+
+"Saved daddy!" she gasped--"Carried him out on--Oh! Aunt Felicia!--and I
+have been so mean! To think he got up out of bed and--and--" Everything
+swam before her eyes.
+
+Miss Felicia sprang forward and caught her in her arms.
+
+"Come!--none of this, Child. Pull yourself together right away. Get
+her some water, nurse,--she has stood all she can. There now, dearie--"
+Ruth's head was on her breast now. "There--there--Such a poor darling,
+and so many things coming all at once. There, darling, put your head on
+my shoulder and cry it all out."
+
+The girl sobbed on, the wrinkled hand patting her cheek.
+
+"Oh, but you don't know, aunty--" she crooned.
+
+"Yes, but I do--you blessed child. I know it all."
+
+"And won't somebody go and help him? He is all alone, he told me so."
+
+"Uncle Peter is with him, dearie.'"
+
+"Yes,--but some one who can--" she straightened up--"I will go, aunty--I
+will go now."
+
+"You will do nothing of the kind, you little goose; you will stay just
+where you are."
+
+"Well, won't you go, then? Oh, please--please--aunty." Peter's bald head
+now rose above the edge of the banisters. Miss Felicia motioned him to
+go back, but Ruth heard his step and raised her tear-drenched face half
+hidden in her dishevelled hair.
+
+"Oh, Uncle Peter, is Jack--is Mr. Breen--"
+
+Miss Felicia's warning face behind Ruth's own, for once reached Peter in
+time.
+
+"In his bed and covered up, and his landlady, Mrs. Hicks, sitting beside
+him," responded Peter in his cheeriest tones.
+
+"But he fainted from pain--and--"
+
+"Yes, but that's all over now, my dear," broke in Miss Felicia.
+
+"But you will go, anyhow--won't you, aunty?" pleaded Ruth.
+
+"Certainly--just as soon as I put you to bed, and that is just where you
+have got to go this very minute," and she led the overwrought trembling
+girl into her room and shut the door.
+
+Peter stood for an instant looking about him, his mind taking in the
+situation. Ruth was being cared for now, and so was MacFarlane--the
+white cap and apron of the noiseless nurse passing in and out of the
+room in which he lay, assured him of that. Bolton, too, in the room next
+to Jack's, was being looked after by his sister who had just arrived.
+He, too, was fairly comfortable, though a couple of his fingers had been
+shortened. But there was nobody to look after Jack--no father, mother,
+sister--nobody. To send for the boy's uncle, or Corinne, or his aunt,
+was out of the question, none of them having had more than a word with
+him since his departure. Yet Jack needed attention. The doctor had just
+pulled him out of one fainting spell only to have him collapse again
+when his coat was taken off, and the bandages were loosened. He was
+suffering greatly and was by no means out of danger.
+
+If for the next hour or two there was anything to be done at
+MacFarlane's, Peter was ready to do it, but this accomplished, he would
+shoulder his bag and camp out for the night beside the boy's bed. He had
+come, indeed, to tell Felicia so, and he meant to sleep there whatever
+her protests. He was preparing himself for her objections, when she
+reentered the room.
+
+"How is young Breen?" Miss Felicia asked in a whisper, closing the door
+behind her. She had put Ruth to bed, where she had again given way to an
+uncontrollable fit of weeping.
+
+"Pretty weak. The doctor is with him now."
+
+"What did the fool get up for?" She did not mean to surrender too
+quickly about Jack despite his heroism--not to Peter, at any rate. Then,
+again, she half suspected that Ruth's tears were equally divided between
+the rescuer and the rescued.
+
+"He couldn't help it, I suppose," answered Peter, with a gleam in his
+eyes--"he was born that way."
+
+"Born! What stuff, Peter--no man of any common-sense would have--"
+
+"I quite agree with you, my dear--no man except a gentleman. There is
+no telling what one of that kind might do under such circumstances." And
+with a wave of his hand and a twinkle in his merry scotch-terrier eyes,
+the old fellow disappeared below the handrail.
+
+Miss Felicia leaned over the banisters:
+
+"Peter, PETER," she called after him, "where are you going?"
+
+"To stay all night with Jack."
+
+"Well, that's the most sensible thing I have heard of yet. Will you take
+him a message from me?"
+
+Peter looked up: "Yes, Felicia, what is it?"
+
+"Give him my love."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+
+Miss Felicia kept her promise to Ruth. Before that young woman, indeed,
+tired out with anxiety, had opened her beautiful eyes the next morning
+and pushed back her beautiful hair from her beautiful face--and it was
+still beautiful, despite all the storms it had met and weathered, the
+energetic, old lady had presented herself at the front door of Mrs.
+Hicks's Boarding Hotel (it was but a step from MacFarlane's) and had
+sent her name to the young man in the third floor back.
+
+A stout person, with a head of adjustable hair held in place by a
+band of black velvet skewered by a gold pin, the whole surmounted by a
+flaring mob-cap of various hues and dyes, looked Miss Felicia all over
+and replied in a dubious tone:
+
+"He's had a bad mash-up, and I don't think--"
+
+"I am quite aware of it, my dear madam, or I would not be here. Now,
+please show me the way to Mr. Breen's room--my brother was here last
+night and--"
+
+"Oh, the bald-headed gentleman?" exclaimed Mrs. Hicks. "Such a dear,
+kind man; and it was as much as I could do to get him to bed and he a--"
+
+But Miss Felicia was already inside the sitting-room, her critical eyes
+noting its bare, forbidding furnishing and appointment--she had not
+yet let down her skirts, the floor not being inviting. As each article
+passed in review--the unsteady rocking-chairs upholstered in haircloth
+and protected by stringy tidies, the disconsolate, almost bottomless
+lounge, fly-specked brass clock and mantel ornaments, she could not
+but recall the palatial entrance, drawing-room, and boudoir into which
+Parkins had ushered her on that memorable afternoon when she had paid
+a visit to Mrs. Arthur Breen--(her "last visit" the old lady would
+say with a sly grimace at Holker, who had never forgiven "that pirate,
+Breen," for robbing Gilbert of his house).
+
+"And this is what this idiot has got in exchange," she said to herself
+as she peered into the dining-room beyond, with its bespattered
+table-cloth flanked by cheap china plates and ivory napkin rings--the
+castors mounting guard at either end.
+
+The entrance of the lady with the transferable hair cut short her
+revery.
+
+"Mr. Breen says come up, ma'am," she said in a subdued voice. It was
+astonishing how little time it took for Miss Felicia's personality to
+have its effect.
+
+Up the uncarpeted stairs marched the great lady, down an equally bare
+hall lined on either side by bedroom doors, some marked by unblacked
+shoes others by tin trays holding fragments of late or early breakfasts,
+the flaring cap obsequiously pointing the way until the two had reached
+a door at the end of the corridor.
+
+"Now I won't bother you any more," said Miss Felicia. "Thank you very
+much. Are you in here Mr. Breen?" she called in a cheery voice as
+she pushed open the door, and advanced to his bedside:--"Oh, you poor
+fellow! Oh, I AM so sorry!"
+
+The boy lay on a cot-bed pushed close to the wall. His face was like
+chalk; his eyes deep set in his head; his scalp one criss-cross of
+bandages, and his right hand and wrist a misshapen lump of cotton
+wadding and splints.
+
+"No, don't move. Why, you did not look as bad as this yesterday," she
+added in sympathetic tones, patting his free hand with her own,
+her glance wandering over the cramped little room with its meagre
+appointments.
+
+Jack smiled faintly and a light gleamed in his eyes. The memory of
+yesterday evidently brought no regrets.
+
+"I dared not look any other way," he answered faintly; "I was so afraid
+of alarming Miss Ruth." Then after a pause in which the smile and
+the gleam flickered over his pain-tortured face, he added in a more
+determined voice: "I am glad I went, though the doctor was furious. He
+says it was the worst thing I could have done--and thought I ought to
+have had sense enough to--But don't let's talk any more about it, Miss
+Felicia. It was so good of you to come. Mr. Grayson has just left. You'd
+think he was a woman, he is so gentle and tender. But I'll be around in
+a day or two, and as soon as I can get on my feet and look less like a
+scarecrow than I do, I am coming over to see you and Miss Ruth and--yes,
+and UNCLE PETER--" Miss Felicia arched her eyebrows: "Oh, you needn't
+look!--that's what I am going to call him after this; we settled all
+that last night."
+
+A smile overspread Miss Felicia's face. "Uncle Peter, is it? And I
+suppose you will be calling me Aunt Felicia next?"
+
+Jack turned his eyes: "That was just what I was trying to screw up my
+courage to do. Please let me, won't you?" Again Miss Felicia lifted her
+eyebrows, but she did not say she would.
+
+"And Ruth--what do you intend to call that young lady? Of course,
+without her permission, as that seems to be the fashion." And the old
+lady's eyes danced in restrained merriment.
+
+The sufferer's face became suddenly grave; for an instant he did not
+answer, then he said slowly:
+
+"But what can I call her except Miss Ruth?"
+
+Miss Felicia laughed. Nothing was so delicious as a love affair which
+she could see into. This boy's heart was an open book. Besides, this
+kind of talk would take his mind from his miseries.
+
+"Oh, but I am not so sure of that," she rejoined, in an encouraging
+tone.
+
+A light broke out in Jack's eyes: "You mean that she WOULD let me call
+her--call her Ruth?"
+
+"I don't mean anything of the kind, you foolish fellow. You have got to
+ask her yourself; but there's no telling what she would not do for you
+now, she's so grateful to you for saving her father's life."
+
+"But I did not," he exclaimed, an expression as of acute pain crossing
+his brows. "I only helped him along. But she must not be grateful. I
+don't like the word. Gratitude hasn't got anything to do with--" he did
+not finish the sentence.
+
+"But you DID save his life, and you know it, and I just love you for
+it," she insisted, ignoring his criticism as she again smoothed his
+hand. "You did a fine, noble act, and I am proud of you and I came to
+tell you so." Then she added suddenly: "You received my message last
+night, didn't you? Now, don't tell me that that good-for-nothing Peter
+forgot it."
+
+"No, he gave it to me, and it was so kind of you."
+
+"Well, then I forgive him. And now," here she made a little salaam with
+both her hands--"now you have Ruth's message."
+
+"I have what?" he asked in astonishment.
+
+"Ruth's message." She still kept her face straight although her lips
+quivered with merriment.
+
+Jack tried to lift his head: "What is her message?" he asked with
+expectant eyes--perhaps she had sent him a letter!
+
+Miss Felicia tapped her bosom with her forefinger.
+
+"ME!" she cried, "I am her message. She was so worried last night when
+she found out how ill you were that I promised her to come and comfort
+you; that is why it is ME. And now, don't you think you ought to get
+down on your knees and thank her? Why, you don't seem a bit pleased!"
+
+"And she sent you to me--because--because--she was GRATEFUL that I saved
+her father's life?" he asked in a bewildered tone.
+
+"Of course--why shouldn't she be; is there anything else you can give
+her she would value as much as her father's life, you conceited young
+Jackanapes?"
+
+She had the pin through the butterfly now and was watching it squirm;
+not maliciously--she was never malicious. He would get over the prick,
+she knew. It might help him in the end, really.
+
+"No, I suppose not," he replied simply, as he sank back on his pillow
+and turned his bruised face toward the wall.
+
+For some moments he lay in deep thought. The last half-hour in the arbor
+under the palms came back to him; the tones of Ruth's voice; the casual
+way in which she returned his devouring glance. She didn't love him;
+never had loved him; wouldn't ever love him. Anybody could carry
+another fellow out on his back; was done every day by firemen and
+life-savers,--everybody, in fact, who happened to be around when their
+services were most needed. Grateful! Of course the rescued people and
+their friends were grateful until they forgot all about it, as they were
+sure to do the next day, or week, or month. Gratitude was not what he
+wanted. It was love. That was the way he felt; that was the way he would
+always feel. He who loved every hair on Ruth's beautiful head, loved her
+wonderful hands, loved her darling feet, loved the very ground on which
+she walked "Gratitude!" eh! That was the word his uncle had used the
+day he slammed the door of his private office in his face. "Common
+gratitude, damn you, Jack, ought to put more sense in your head," as
+though one ought to have been "grateful" for a seat at a gambling
+table and two rooms in a house supported by its profits. Garry had said
+"gratitude," too, and so had Corinne, and all the rest of them. Peter
+had never talked gratitude; dear Peter, who had done more for him than
+anybody in the world except his own father. Peter wanted his love if he
+wanted anything, and that was what he was going to give him--big, broad,
+all-absorbing LOVE. And he did love him. Even his wrinkled hands, so
+soft and white, and his glistening head, and his dabs of gray whiskers,
+and his sweet, firm, human mouth were precious to him. Peter--his
+friend, his father, his comrade! Could he ever insult him by such a
+mean, cowardly feeling as gratitude? And was the woman he loved as he
+loved nothing else in life--was she--was Ruth going to belittle their
+relations with the same substitute? It was a big pin, that which Miss
+Felicia had impaled him on, and it is no wonder the poor fluttering
+wings were nigh exhausted in the struggle!
+
+Relief came at last.
+
+"And now what shall I tell her?" asked Miss Felicia. "She worries more
+over you than she does over her father; she can get hold of him any
+minute, but you won't be presentable for a week. Come, what shall I tell
+her?"
+
+Jack shifted his shoulders so that he could move the easier and with
+less pain, and raised himself on his well elbow. There was no use of his
+hoping any more; she had evidently sent Miss Felicia to end the matter
+with one of her polite phrases,--a weapon which she, of all women, knew
+so well how to use.
+
+"Give Miss Ruth my kindest regards," he said in a low voice, still husky
+from the effects of the smoke and the strain of the last half-hour--"and
+say how thankful I am for her gratitude, and--No,--don't tell her
+anything of the kind. I don't know what you are to tell her." The words
+seemed to die in his throat.
+
+"But she will ask me, and I have got to say something. Come,--out with
+it." Her eyes were still on his face; not a beat of his wings or a
+squirm of his body had she missed.
+
+"Well just say how glad I am she is at home again and that her father
+is getting on so well, and tell her I will be up and around in a day
+or two, and that I am not a bit worse off for going to the station
+yesterday."
+
+"Anything else?"
+
+"No,--unless you can think of something."
+
+"And if I do shall I add it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Oh,--then I know exactly what to do,--it will be something like this:
+'Please, Ruth, take care of your precious self, and don't be worried
+about me or anything else, and remember that every minute I am away from
+you is misery, for I love you to distraction and--'"
+
+"Oh, Miss Felicia!"
+
+"No--none of your protests, sir!" she laughed. "That is just what I
+am going to tell her. And now don't you dare to move till Peter comes
+back," and with a toss of her aristocratic head the dear lady left the
+room, closing the door behind her.
+
+And so our poor butterfly was left flat against the wall--all his
+flights ended. No more roaming over honeysuckles, drinking in the honey
+of Ruth's talk; no more soaring up into the blue, the sunshine of hope
+dazzling his wings. It made no difference what Miss Felicia might say
+to Ruth. It was what she had said to HIM which made him realize the
+absurdity of all his hopes. Everything that he had longed for, worked
+for, dreamed about, was over now--the long walks in the garden, her dear
+hand in his, even the song of the choir boys, and the burst of joyous
+music as they passed out of the church door only to enter their own for
+life. All this was gone--never to return--never had existed, in fact,
+except in his own wild imagination. And once more the disheartened boy
+turned his tired pain-racked face toward the bare wall.
+
+Miss Felicia tripped downstairs with an untroubled air, extended two
+fingers to Mrs. Hicks, and without more ado passed out into the morning
+air. No thought of the torment she had inflicted affected the dear
+woman. What were pins made for except to curb the ambitious wings of
+flighty young men who were soaring higher than was good for them. She
+would let him know that Ruth was a prize not to be too easily won,
+especially by penniless young gentlemen, however brave and heroic they
+might be.
+
+Hardly had she crossed the dreary village street encumbered with piles
+of half-melted snow and mud, than she espied Peter picking his way
+toward her, his silk hat brushed to a turn, his gray surtout buttoned
+close, showing but the edge of his white silk muffler, his carefully
+rolled umbrella serving as a divining rod the better to detect the
+water holes. No one who met him and looked into his fresh, rosy face,
+or caught the merry twinkle of his eyes, would ever have supposed he had
+been pouring liniment over broken arms and bandaged fingers until
+two o'clock in the morning of the night before. It had only been when
+Bolton's sister had discovered an empty "cell," as Jack called the
+bedroom next to his, that he had abandoned his intention of camping out
+on Jack's disheartened lounge, and had retired like a gentleman carrying
+with him all his toilet articles, ready to be set out in the morning.
+
+Long before that time he had captured everybody in the place: from Mrs.
+Hicks, who never dreamed that such a well of tenderness over suffering
+could exist in an old fellow's heart, down to the freckled-faced boy who
+came for his muddy shoes and who, after a moment's talk with Peter as to
+how they should be polished, retired later in the firm belief that they
+belonged to "a gent way up in G," as he expressed it, he never having
+waited on "the likes of him before." As to Bolton, he thought he was
+the "best ever," and as to his prim, patient sister who had closed her
+school to be near her brother--she declared to Mrs. Hicks five minutes
+after she had laid her eyes on him, that Mr. Breen's uncle was "just too
+dear for anything,"--to which the lady with the movable hair and mob-cap
+not only agreed, but added the remark of her own, "that folks like him
+was a sight better than the kind she was a-gettin'."
+
+All these happenings of the night and early hours of this bright,
+beautiful morning--and it was bright and sunny overhead despite the old
+fellow's precautionary umbrella--had helped turn out the spick and span
+gentleman who was now making his way carefully over the unpaved road
+which stood for Corklesville's principal street.
+
+Miss Felicia saw him first.
+
+"Oh! there you are!" she cried before he could raise his eyes. "Did you
+ever see anything so disgraceful as this crossing--not a plank--nothing.
+No--get out of my way, Peter; you will just upset me, and I would rather
+help myself."
+
+In reply Peter, promptly ignoring her protest, stepped in front of her,
+poked into several fraudulent solidities covering unfathomable depths,
+found one hard enough to bear the weight of Miss Felicia's dainty
+shoe--it was about as long as a baby's hand--and holding out his own
+said, in his most courtly manner:
+
+"Be very careful now, my dear: put your foot on mine; so! now give me
+your hand and jump. There--that's it." To see Peter help a lady across
+a muddy street, Holker Morris always said, was a lesson in all the finer
+virtues. Sir Walter was a bungler beside him. But then Miss Felicia
+could also have passed muster as the gay gallant's companion.
+
+And just here the Scribe remarks, parenthetically, that there is nothing
+that shows a woman's refinement more clearly than the way she crosses a
+street.
+
+Miss Felicia, for instance, would no more have soiled the toes of her
+shoes in a puddle than a milk-white pussy would have dampened its feet
+in the splash of an overturned bowl: a calm survey up and down; a taking
+in of the dry and wet spots; a careful gathering up of her skirts,
+and over skimmed the slender, willowy old lady with a one--two--and
+three--followed by a stamp of her absurd feet and the shaking out of
+ruffle and pleat. When a woman strides through mud without a shiver
+because she has plenty of dry shoes and good ones at home, there are
+other parts of her make-up, inside and out, that may want a looking
+after.
+
+Miss Felicia safely landed on the dry and comparatively clean sidewalk,
+Peter put the question he had been framing in his mind since he first
+caught sight of that lady picking her way among the puddles.
+
+"Well, how is he now?"
+
+"His head, or his heart?" she asked with a knowing smile, dropping her
+still spotless skirts. "Both are broken; the last into smithereens. It
+is hopeless. He will never be any better. Oh, Peter, what a mess you
+have made of things!"
+
+"What have I done?" he laughed.
+
+"Got these two people dead in love with each other,--both of them--Ruth
+is just as bad--and no more chance of their ever being married than you
+or I. Perfectly silly, Peter, and I have always told you so--and now you
+will have to take the consequences."
+
+"Beautiful--beautiful!" chuckled Peter; "everything is coming my way. I
+was sure of Jack, for he told me so, but Ruth puzzled me. Did she tell
+you she loved him?"
+
+"No, stupid, of course she did not. But have I not a pair of eyes in my
+head? What do you suppose I got up for this morning at such an unearthly
+hour and went over to--Oh, such an awful place!--to see that idiot? Just
+to tell him I was sorry? Not a bit of it! I went to find out what was
+going on, and now I know; and what is to become of it all nobody can
+tell. Here is her father with every penny he has in the world in this
+work--so Holker tells me--and here are a lot of damages for dead men and
+Heaven knows what else; and there is Jack Breen with not a penny to his
+name except his month's wages; and here is Ruth who can marry anybody
+she chooses, bewitched by that boy--and I grant you she has every reason
+for he is as brave as he can be, and what is better he is a gentleman.
+And there lies Henry MacFarlane blind as a bat as to what is going on!
+Oh!--really, Peter, there cannot be anything more absurd."
+
+During the outbreak Peter stood leaning on his umbrella, a smile playing
+over his smooth-shaven face, his eyes snapping as if at some inwardly
+suppressed fun. These were the kind of outbursts Peter loved. It was
+only when Felicia was about to come over to your way of thinking that
+she talked like this. It was her way of hearing the other side.
+
+"Dreadful!--dreadful!" sighed Peter, looking the picture of woe. "Love
+in a garret--everybody in rags,--one meal a day--awful situation!
+Something's got to be done at once. I'll begin by taking up a collection
+this very day. In the meantime, Felicia, I'll just keep on to Jack's and
+see how his arm's getting on and his head. As to his heart,--I'll talk
+to Ruth and see--"
+
+"Are you crazy, Peter? You will do nothing of the kind. If you do, I
+will--"
+
+But Peter, his hat in the air, was now out of hearing. When he reached
+the mud line he turned, drew his umbrella as if from an imaginary
+scabbard, made a military salute, and, with a suppressed gurgle in his
+throat, kept on to Jack's room.
+
+Somehow the sunshine had crept into the old fellow's veins this morning.
+None of Miss Felicia's pins for him!
+
+Ruth, from her place by the sitting-room window, had seen the two
+talking and had opened the front door, before Miss Felicia's hand
+touched the bell. She had already subjected Peter to a running fire
+of questions while he was taking his coffee and thus had the latest
+intelligence down to the moment when Peter turned low Jack's light and
+had tucked him in. He was asleep when Peter had peered into his cramped
+room early this morning, and the bulletin therefore could go no further.
+
+"And how is he, aunty?" Ruth asked in a breathless tone before the front
+door could be closed.
+
+"Getting on splendidly, my dear. Slept pretty well. It is a dreadful
+place for any one to be in, but I suppose he is accustomed to it by this
+time."
+
+"And is he no worse for coming to meet us, Aunt Felicia?" Ruth asked,
+her voice betraying her anxiety. She had relieved the old lady of her
+cloak now, and had passed one arm around her slender waist.
+
+"No, he doesn't seem to be, dearie. Tired, of course--and it may keep
+him in bed a day or two longer, but it won't make any difference in his
+getting well. He will be out in a week or so."
+
+Ruth paused for a moment and then asked in a hesitating way, all her
+sympathy in her eyes:
+
+"And I don't suppose there is anybody to look after him, is there?"
+
+"Oh, yes, plenty: Mrs. Hicks seems a kind, motherly person, and then Mr.
+Bolton's sister runs in and out." It was marvellous how little interest
+the dear woman took in the condition of the patient. Again the girl
+paused. She was sorry now she had not braved everything and gone with
+her.
+
+"And did he send me any message, aunty?" This came quite as a matter of
+form--merely to learn all the details.
+
+"Oh, yes,--I forgot: he told me to tell you how glad he was to hear your
+father was getting well," replied Miss Felicia searching the mantel for
+a book she had placed there.
+
+Ruth bit her lips and a certain dull feeling crept about her heart.
+Jack, with his broken arm and bruised head rose before her. Then another
+figure supplanted it.
+
+"And what sort of a girl is that Miss Bolton?" There was no
+curiosity--merely for information. "Uncle Peter was so full of her
+brother and how badly he had been hurt he hardly mentioned her name"
+
+"I did not see her very well; she was just coming out of her brother's
+room, and the hall was dark. Oh, here's my book--I knew I had left it
+here."
+
+"Pretty?" continued Ruth, in a slightly anxious tone.
+
+"No,--I should say not," replied the old lady, moving to the door.
+
+"Then you don't think there is anything I can do?" Ruth called after
+her.
+
+"Not now."
+
+Ruth picked up Miss Felicia's wrap from the chair where that lady had
+thrown it, mounted the stairs, peered from between the pots of geraniums
+screening a view of the street with the Hicks Hotel dominating one
+corner, wondered which window along the desolate front gave Jack light
+and air, and with whispered instructions to the nurse to be sure and let
+her know when her father awoke, shut herself in her room.
+
+As for the horrible old ogre who had made all the trouble, nipping off
+buds, skewering butterflies and otherwise disporting herself after the
+manner of busybodies who are eternally and forever poking their thin,
+pointed noses into what doesn't concern them, no hot, scalding tears,
+the Scribe regrets to say, dimmed her knowing eyes, nor did any unbidden
+sigh leap from her old heart. Foolish young people ought to thank her
+really for what she had done--what she would still try to do--and they
+would when they were a year older.
+
+Poor, meddling Miss Felicia! Have you forgotten that night thirty years
+ago when you stood in a darkened room facing a straight, soldierly
+looking man, and listened to the slow dropping of words that scalded
+your heart like molten metal? Have you forgotten, too, the look on
+his handsome face when he uttered his protest at the persistent
+intermeddling of another, and the square of his broad shoulders as he
+disappeared through the open door never to return again?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+
+Some of the sunshine that had helped dry the muddy road, making possible
+the path between Jack's abode and MacFarlane's hired villa--where there
+was only room for Miss Felicia, Peter still occupying his cell at Mrs.
+Hicks's, but taking his meals with Ruth, so that he could be within call
+of MacFarlane when needed--some of this same sunshine, I say, may have
+been responsible for the temporary drying up of Ruth's tears and the
+establishing of various ways of communication between two hearts that
+had for some days been floundering in the deeps. Or, perhaps, the
+rebound may have been due to the fact that Peter had whispered something
+in Jack's ear, or that Ruth had overheard Miss Felicia praising Jack's
+heroism to her father--it was common talk everywhere--or it may
+have been that the coming of spring which always brings hope and
+cheer--making old into new, may have led to the general lighting up
+of the gloom that had settled over the house of MacFarlane and its
+dependents; but certain it is that such was the case.
+
+MacFarlane began by taking a sudden change for the better--so decided
+a change that he was out of his room and dressed on the fifth day
+(although half his coat hid his broken arm, tightly bandaged to his
+side). He had even talked as far as the geraniums in the window, through
+which he could not only see Jack's hotel, but the big "earth fill" and
+mouth of The Beast beyond.
+
+Then Bolton surprised everybody by appearing outdoors, his hand alone in
+a sling. What was left of the poor shanty men, too, had been buried,
+the dreadful newspaper articles had ceased, and work was again in full
+blast.
+
+Jack, to be sure, was still in his room, having swallowed more gas and
+smoke than the others, badly scorching his insides, as he had panted
+under the weight of MacFarlane's body. The crisis, however, brought on
+by his imprudence in meeting Ruth at the station, had passed, and even
+he was expected to be out in a few days.
+
+As for Miss Felicia, although she had blown hot and blown cold on Ruth's
+heart, until that delicate instrument stood at zero one day and at fever
+heat the next, she had, on the whole, kept up an equable temperature,
+and meant to do so until she shook the dust of Corklesville from her
+dainty feet and went back to the clean, moist bricks of her garden.
+
+And as for Peter! Had he not been a continuous joy; cheering everybody;
+telling MacFarlane funny stories until that harassed invalid laughed
+himself, unconscious of the pain to his arm; bringing roses for the
+prim, wizened-up Miss Bolton, that she might have a glimpse of something
+fresh and alive while she sat by her brother's bed. And last, and by
+no means least, had he not the morning he had left for New York, his
+holiday being over, taken Ruth in his arms and putting his lips close
+to her ear, whispered something into its pink shell that had started
+northern lights dancing all over her cheeks and away up to the roots of
+her hair; and had she not given him a good hug and kissed him in return,
+a thing she had never done in her whole life before? And had he not
+stopped on his way to the station for a last hand-shake with Jack and
+to congratulate him for the hundredth time for his plucky rescue of
+MacFarlane--a subject he never ceased to talk about--and had he not at
+the very last moment, told Jack every word of what he and Ruth talked
+about, with all the details elaborated, even to the hug, which was no
+sooner told than another set of northern lights got into action at once,
+and another hug followed; only this time it took the form of a hearty
+hand-shake and a pat on Peter's back, followed by a big tear which the
+boy tried his best to conceal? Peter had no theories detrimental to
+penniless young gentlemen, pursued by intermeddling old ladies.
+
+And yet with all this there was one corner deep down in Ruth's heart so
+overgrown with "wonderings" and "whys," so thick with tangled doubts
+and misgivings, that no cheering ray of certainty had yet been able
+to pierce it. Nor had any one tried. Miss Felicia, good as she was and
+loving as she had been, had done nothing in the pruning way--that is,
+nothing which would let in any sunshine radiating from Jack. She had
+talked about him, it is true; not to her, we may be sure, but to her
+father, saying how handsome he had grown and what a fine man he was
+making of himself. She had, too, more than once commented--and this
+before everybody--on his good manners and his breeding, especially on
+the way he had received her the first morning she called, and to
+his never apologizing for his miserable surroundings, meagre as they
+were--just a theodolite, his father's portrait and half a dozen books
+alone being visible, the white walls covered with working plans.
+But when the poor girl had tried to draw from her some word that was
+personal to himself, or one that might become personal--and she did
+try even to the verge of betraying herself, which would never have
+done--Miss Felicia had always turned the subject at once or had pleaded
+forgetfulness. Not a word could she drag out of this very perverse and
+determined old lady concerning the state of the patient, nothing except
+that he was "better," or "doing nicely," or that the bandage was being
+shortened, or some other commonplace. Uncle Peter had been kinder. He
+understood--she saw that in his eyes. Still even Uncle Peter had not
+told her all that she wanted to know, and of course she could not ask
+him.
+
+Soon a certain vague antagonism began to assert itself toward the old
+lady who knew so much and yet who said so little! who was too old really
+to understand--no old person, in fact, could understand--that is, no old
+woman. This proved, too, that this particular person could never have
+loved any other particular person in her life. Not that she, Ruth, loved
+Jack--by no manner of means--not in that way, at least. But she would
+have liked to know what he said, and how he said it, and whether his
+eyes had lost that terrible look which they wore when he turned away
+at the station to go back to his sick bed in the dingy hotel. All these
+things her Aunt Felicia knew about and yet she could not drag a word out
+of her.
+
+What she ought to have done was to go herself that first night, bravely,
+honestly, fearlessly as any friend had a right to do; go to him in his
+miserable little hotel and try to cheer him up as Miss Felicia, and
+perhaps Miss Bolton, had done. Then she might have found out all about
+it. Exactly what it was that she wanted to find out all about--and this
+increased her perplexity--she could not formulate, although she was
+convinced it would help her to bear the anxiety she was suffering. Now
+it was too late; more than a week had passed, and no excuse for going
+was possible.
+
+It was not until the morning after Peter's departure,--she, sitting
+alone, sad and silent in her chair at the head of her father's breakfast
+table (Miss Felicia, as was her custom, had her coffee in her room),
+that the first ray of light had crept into her troubled brain. It had
+only shone a brief moment,--and had then gone out in darkness, but it
+held a certain promise for better days, and on this she had built her
+hopes.
+
+"I am going to send for Breen to-morrow, Ruth," her father had said as
+he kissed her good-night. "There are some things I want to talk over
+with him, and then I want to thank him for what he did for me. He's
+a man, every inch of him; I haven't told him so yet,--not to his
+face,--but I will to-morrow. Fine fellow is Breen; blood will always
+tell in the end, my daughter, and he's got the best in the country in
+his veins. Looks more like his father every day he lives."
+
+She had hardly slept all night, thinking of the pleasure in store
+for her. She had dressed herself, too, in her most becoming breakfast
+gown--one she had worn when Jack first arrived at Corklesville, and
+which he said reminded him of a picture he had seen as a boy. There
+were pink rosebuds woven in its soft texture, and the wide peach-blossom
+ribbon that bound her dainty waist contrasted so delightfully, as he had
+timidly hinted, with the tones of her hair and cheeks.
+
+It was the puffy, bespectacled little doctor who shut out the light.
+
+"No, your father has still one degree of fever," he grumbled, with a
+wise shake of his bushy head. "No--nobody, Miss MacFarlane,--do you
+understand? He can see NOBODY--or I won't be responsible," and with this
+the crabbed old fellow climbed into his gig and drove away.
+
+She looked after him for a moment and two hot tears dropped from her
+eyes and dashed themselves to pieces on the peach-blossom ribbon.
+
+But the sky was clearing again--she didn't realize it,--but it was.
+April skies always make alternate lights and darks. The old curmudgeon
+had gone, but the garden gate was again a-swing.
+
+Ruth heard the tread on the porch and drawing back the curtains looked
+out. The most brilliant sunbeams were but dull rays compared with what
+now flashed from her eyes. Nor did she wait for any other hand than her
+own to turn the knob of the door.
+
+"Why, Mr. Breen!"
+
+"Yes, Miss Ruth," Jack answered, lifting his hat, an unrestrained
+gladness at the sight of her beauty and freshness illumining his face.
+"I have come to report for duty to your father."
+
+"But you cannot see him. You must report to me," she laughed gayly, her
+heart brimming over now that he was before her again. "Father was going
+to send for you to-day, but the doctor would not let him. Hush! he
+musn't hear us."
+
+"He would not let me go out either, but as I am tired to death of being
+cooped up in my room, I broke jail. Can't I see him?" he continued in
+a lower key. He had his coat off and had hung it on the rack, she
+following him into the sitting-room, absorbing every inch of his strong,
+well-knit body from his short-cropped hair where the bandages had been
+wound, down to the sprained wrist which was still in splints. She noted,
+too, with a little choke in her throat, the shadows under the cheek
+bones and the thinness of the nose. She could see plainly how he had
+suffered.
+
+"I am sorry you cannot see father." She was too moved to say more. "He
+still has one degree of fever."
+
+"I have two degrees myself," Jack laughed softly,--"one records how
+anxious I was to get out of my cell and the other how eager I was to get
+here. And now I suppose I can't stay."
+
+"Oh, yes, you can stay if you will keep as still as a mouse so father
+can't hear you," she whispered, a note of joy woven in her tones.
+
+She was leading him to the sofa as she spoke. He placed a cushion for
+her, and took his place beside her, resting his injured hand, which was
+in a sling, on the arm. He was still weak and shaking.
+
+"Daddy is still in his room," she rattled on nervously, "but he may be
+out and prowling about the upstairs hall any minute. He has a heap of
+things to talk over with you--he told me so last night--and if he knew
+you were here nothing would stop him. Wait till I shut the door. And now
+tell me about yourself," she continued in a louder voice, regaining her
+seat. "You have had a dreadful time, I hear--it was the wrist, wasn't
+it?" She felt she was beginning badly; although conscious of her nervous
+joy and her desire to conceal it, somehow it seemed hard for her to say
+the right thing.
+
+"Oh, I reckon it was everything, Miss Ruth, but it's all over now." He
+was not nervous. He was in an ecstasy. His eyes were drinking in the
+round of her throat and the waves of glorious hair that crowned her
+lovely head. He noticed, too, some tiny threads that lay close to her
+ears: he had been so hungry for a glimpse of them!
+
+"Oh, I hope so, but you shouldn't have come to the station that day,"
+she struggled on. "We had Uncle Peter with us, and only a hand-bag, each
+of us,--we came away so suddenly."
+
+"I didn't want you to be frightened about your father. I didn't know
+that Uncle Peter was with you; in fact, I didn't know much of anything
+until it was all over. Bolton sent the telegram as soon as he got his
+breath."
+
+"That's what frightened us. Why didn't YOU send it?" she was gaining
+control of herself now and something of her old poise had returned.
+
+"I hadn't got MY breath,--not all of it. I remember his coming into my
+room where they were tying me up and bawling out something about how
+to reach you by wire, and he says now that I gave him Mr. Grayson's
+address. I cannot remember that part of it, except that I--Well, never
+mind about that--" he hesitated turning away his gaze--the memory seemed
+to bring with it a certain pain.
+
+"Yes,--tell me," she pleaded. She was too happy. This was what she had
+been waiting for. There was no detail he must omit.
+
+"It was nothing, only I kept thinking it was you who were hurt," he
+stammered.
+
+"Me!" she cried, her eyes dancing. The ray of light was breaking--one
+with a promise in it for the future!
+
+"Yes,--you, Miss Ruth! Funny, isn't it, how when you are half dead you
+get things mixed up." Oh, the stupidity of these lovers! Not a thing
+had he seen of the flash of expectation in her eyes or of the hot color
+rising to her cheeks. "I thought somebody was trying to tell your father
+that you were hurt, and I was fighting to keep him from hearing it. But
+you must thank Bolton for letting you know."
+
+Ruth's face clouded and the sparkle died out in her eyes. What was Mr.
+Bolton to her, and at a time like this?
+
+"It was most kind of Mr. Bolton," she answered in a constrained voice.
+"I only wish he had said something more; we had a terrible day. Uncle
+Peter was nearly crazy about you; he telegraphed and telegraphed, but we
+could get no answer. That's why it was such a relief to find you at the
+station."
+
+But the bat had not finished banging his head against the wall. "Then I
+did do some good by going?" he asked earnestly.
+
+"Oh, indeed you did." If he did not care whether she had been hurt or
+not, even in his delirium, she was not going to betray herself. "It was
+the first time anybody had seen Uncle Peter smile; he was wretched all
+day. He loves you very dearly, Mr. Breen."
+
+Jack's hand dropped so suddenly to his side that the pain made him
+tighten his lips. For a moment he did not answer.
+
+"Then it was only Uncle Peter who was anxious, was it? I am glad he
+loves me. I love him, too," he said at last in a perfunctory tone--"he's
+been everything to me."
+
+"And you have been everything to him." She determined to change the
+subject now. "He told me only--well,--two days ago--that you had made him
+ten years younger."
+
+"Me?--Miss Ruth!" Still the same monotonous cadence.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Well,--maybe because he is old and you are young." As she spoke her
+eyes measured the width of his shoulders and his broad chest--she saw
+now to what her father owed his life--"and another thing; he said that
+he would always thank you for getting out alive. And I owe you a debt of
+gratitude, too, Mr. Breen;--you gave me back my dear daddy," she added
+in a more assured tone. Here at last was something she could talk
+unreservedly about. Something that she had wanted to say ever since he
+came.
+
+Jack straightened and threw back his shoulders: that word again! Was
+that all that Ruth had to say?
+
+"No, Miss Ruth, you don't." There was a slight ring of defiance
+now. "You do not owe me anything, and please don't think so, and
+please--please--do not say so!"
+
+"I don't owe you anything! Not for saving my father's life?" This came
+with genuine surprise.
+
+"No! What would you have thought of me, what would I have thought
+of myself had I left him to suffocate when I could just as well have
+brought him out? Do you think I could ever have looked you in the face
+again? You might not have ever known I could have saved him--but I
+should have hated myself every hour of my life. Men are not to be
+thanked for these things; they are to be despised if they don't do them.
+Can't you see the difference?"
+
+"But you might have been killed, too!" she exclaimed. Her own voice was
+rising, irritation and disappointment swaying it. "Everybody says it was
+a miracle you were not."
+
+"Not a miracle at all. All I was afraid of was stumbling over something
+in the dark--and it was nearly dark--only a few of the rock lights
+burning--and not be able to get on my feet again. But don't let us talk
+about it any more."
+
+"Yes--but I will, I MUST. I must feel right about it all, and I cannot
+unless you listen. I shall never forget you for it as long as I live."
+There was a note of pathos in her voice. Why did he make it so hard for
+her, she thought. Why would he not look in her face and see? Why would
+he not let her thank him? "Nothing in the world is so precious to me
+as daddy, and never will be," she went on resolutely, driving back the
+feeling of injustice that surged up in her heart at his attitude--"and
+it is you, Mr. Breen, who have given him back to me. And daddy feels
+the same way about it; and he is going to tell you so the minute he sees
+you," she insisted. "He has sent you a lot of messages, he says, but
+they do not count. Please, now won't you let me thank you?"
+
+Jack raised his head. He had been fingering a tassel on the end of the
+sofa, missing all the play of feeling in her eyes, taking in nothing but
+the changes that she rang on that one word "gratitude." Gratitude!--when
+he loved the ground she stepped on. But he must face the issue fairly
+now:
+
+"No,--I don't want you to thank me," he answered simply.
+
+"Well, what do you want, then?" She was at sea now,--compass and rudder
+gone,--wind blowing from every quarter at once,--she trying to reach the
+harbor of his heart while every tack was taking her farther from port.
+If the Scribe had his way the whole coast of love would be lighted and
+all rocks of doubt and misunderstanding charted for just such hapless
+lovers as these two. How often a twist of the tiller could send them
+into the haven of each other's arms, and yet how often they go ashore
+and stay ashore and worse still, stay ashore all their lives.
+
+Jack looked into her eyes and a hopeless, tired expression crossed his
+face.
+
+"I don't know," he said in a barely audible voice:--"I just--please,
+Miss Ruth, let us talk of something else; let me tell you how lovely
+your gown is and how glad I am you wore it to-day. I always liked it,
+and--"
+
+"No,--never mind about my gown; I would rather you did not like
+anything about me than misunderstand me!" The tears were just under the
+lids;--one more thrust like the last and they would be streaming down
+her cheeks.
+
+"But I haven't misunderstood you." He saw the lips quiver, but it was
+anger, he thought, that caused it.
+
+"Yes, you have!"--a great lump had risen in her throat. "You have done a
+brave, noble act,--everybody says so; you carried my dear father out on
+your back when there was not but one chance in a thousand you would ever
+get out alive; you lay in a faint for hours and once they gave you up
+for dead; then you thought enough of Uncle Peter and all of us to get
+that telegram sent so we wouldn't be terrified to death and then at the
+risk of your life you met us at the station and have been in bed ever
+since, and yet I am to sit still and not say a word!" It was all she
+could do to control herself. "I do feel grateful to you and I always
+shall feel grateful to you as long as I live. And now will you take my
+hand and tell me you are sorry, and let me say it all over again, and
+with my whole heart? for that's the way I mean it."
+
+She was facing him now, her hand held out, her head thrown back, her
+dark eyes flashing, her bosom heaving. Slowly and reverently, as a
+devotee would kiss the robe of a passing priest, Jack bent his head and
+touched her fingers with his lips.
+
+Then, raising his eyes to hers, he asked, "And is that all, Miss
+Ruth? Isn't there something more?" Not once had she mentioned his
+own safety--not once had she been glad over him--"Something more?" he
+repeated, an ineffable tenderness in his tones--"something--it isn't
+all, is it?"
+
+"Why, how can I say anything more?" she murmured in a lowered voice,
+withdrawing her hand as the sound of a step in the hall reached her ear.
+
+The door swung wide: "Well, what are you two young people quarrelling
+about?" came a soft, purring voice.
+
+"We weren't quarrelling, Aunty. Mr. Breen is so modest he doesn't want
+anybody to thank him, and I just would."
+
+Miss Felicia felt that she had entered just in time. Scarred and
+penniless heroes fresh from battle-fields of glory and desirable young
+women whose fathers have been carried bodily out of burning death pits
+must never be left too long together.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+
+As the weeks rolled by, two questions constantly rose in Ruth's mind:
+Why had he not wanted her to thank him?--and what had he meant by--"And
+is that all?"
+
+Her other admirers--and there had been many in her Maryland home--had
+never behaved like this. Was it because they liked her better than
+she liked them? The fact was--and she might as well admit it once for
+all--that Jack did not like her at all, he really DISliked her, and only
+his loyalty to her father and that inborn courtesy which made him polite
+to every woman he met--young or old--prevented his betraying himself.
+She tried to suggest something like this to Miss Felicia, but that good
+woman had only said: "Men are queer, my dear, and these Southerners are
+the queerest of them all. They are so chivalrous that at times they get
+tiresome. Breen is no better than the rest of them." This had ended it
+with Miss Felicia. Nor would she ever mention his name to her again.
+Jack was not tiresome; on the contrary, he was the soul of honor and
+as brave as he could be--a conclusion quite as illogical as that of her
+would-be adviser.
+
+If she could only have seen Peter, the poor child thought,--Peter
+understood--just as some women not as old as her aunt would have
+understood. Dear Uncle Peter! He had told her once what Jack had said
+about her--how beautiful he thought her and how he loved her devotion to
+her father. Jack MUST have said it, for Uncle Peter never spoke anything
+but the exact truth. Then why had Jack, and everything else, changed
+so cruelly? she would say--talking to herself, sometimes aloud. For the
+ring had gone from his voice and the tenderness from his touch. Not that
+he ever was tender, not that she wanted him to be, for that matter; and
+then she would shut her door and throw herself on her bed in an agony of
+tears--pleading a headache or fatigue that she might escape her father's
+inquiry, and often his anxious glance.
+
+The only ray of light that had pierced her troubled heart--and this only
+flashed for a brief moment--was the glimpse she had had of Jack's mind
+when he and her father first met. The boy had called to inquire after
+his Chief's health and for any instructions he might wish to give, when
+MacFarlane, hearing the young hero's voice in the hall below, hurried
+down to greet him. Ruth was leaning over the banister at the time and
+saw all that passed. Once within reach MacFarlane strode up to Jack, and
+with the look on his face of a man who had at last found the son he had
+been hunting for all his life, laid his hand on the lad's shoulder.
+
+"I think we understand each other, Breen,--don't we?" he said simply,
+his voice breaking.
+
+"I think so, sir," answered Jack, his own eyes aglow, as their hands
+met.
+
+Nothing else had followed. There was no outburst. Both were men; in the
+broadest and strongest sense each had weighed the other. The eyes and
+the quivering lips and the lingering hand-clasp told the rest. A sudden
+light broke in on Ruth. Her father's quiet words, and his rescuer's
+direct answer came as a revelation. Jack, then, did want to be thanked!
+Yes, but not by her! Why was it? Why had he not understood? And why had
+he made her suffer, and what had she done to deserve it?
+
+If Jack suspected any of these heartaches and misgivings, no one would
+have surmised it. He came and went as usual, passing an hour in the
+morning and an hour at night with his Chief, until he had entirely
+recovered his strength--bringing with him the records of the work; the
+number of feet drilled in a day; cost of maintenance; cubic contents of
+dump; extent and slope and angles of "fill"--all the matters which since
+his promotion (Jack now had Bolton's place) came under his immediate
+supervision. Nor had any word passed between himself and Ruth, other
+than the merest commonplace. He was cheery, buoyant, always ready to
+help,--always at her service if she took the train for New York or
+stayed after dark at a neighbor's house, when he would insist on
+bringing her home, no matter how late he had been up the night before.
+
+If the truth were known, he neither suspected nor could he be made to
+believe that Ruth had any troubles. The facts were that he had given her
+all his heart and had been ready to lay himself at her feet, that being
+the accepted term in his mental vocabulary--and she would have none of
+him. She had let him understand so--rebuffed him--not once, but every
+time he had tried to broach the subject of his devotion;--once in the
+Geneseo arbor, and again on that morning when he had really crawled to
+her side because he could no longer live without seeing her. The manly
+thing to do now was to accept the situation: to do his work; look after
+his employer's interests, read, study, run over whenever he could to see
+Peter--and these were never-to-be-forgotten oases in the desert of his
+despair--and above all never to forget that he owed a duty to Miss Ruth
+in which no personal wish of his own could ever find a place. She was
+alone and without an escort except her father, who was often so absorbed
+in his work, or so tired at night, as to be of little help to her.
+Moreover, his Chief had, in a way, added his daughter's care to his
+other duties. "Can't you take Ruth to-night--" or "I wish you'd meet
+her at the ferry," or "if you are going to that dinner in New York, at
+so-and-so's, would you mind calling for her--" etc., etc. Don't start,
+dear reader. These two came of a breed where the night key and the
+daughter go together and where a chaperon would be as useless as a
+policeman locked inside a bank vault.
+
+And so the boy struggled on, growing in bodily strength and mental
+experience, still the hero among the men for his heroic rescue of the
+"Boss"--a reputation which he never lost; making friends every day both
+in the village and in New York and keeping them; absorbed in his slender
+library, and living within his means, which small as they were, now
+gave him two rooms at Mrs. Hicks's,--one of which he had fitted up as a
+little sitting-room and in which Ruth had poured the first cup of tea,
+her father and some of the village people being guests.
+
+His one secret--and it was his only one--he kept locked up in his heart,
+even from Peter. Why worry the dear old fellow, he had said to himself a
+dozen times, since nothing would ever come of it.
+
+While all this had been going on in the house of MacFarlane, much more
+astonishing things had been developing in the house of Breen.
+
+The second Mukton Lode scoop,--the one so deftly handled the night of
+Arthur Breen's dinner to the directors,--had somehow struck a snag
+in the scooping with the result that most of the "scoopings" had been
+spilled over the edge there to be gathered up by the gamins of the
+Street, instead of being hived in the strong boxes of the scoopers. Some
+of the habitues in the orchestra chairs in Breen's office had cursed
+loud and deep when they saw their margins melt away; and one or two of
+the directors had broken out into open revolt, charging Breen with the
+fiasco, but most of the others had held their peace. It was better to
+crawl away into the tall grass there to nurse their wounds than to
+give the enemy a list of the killed and wounded. Now and then an
+outsider--one who had watched the battle from afar--saw more of the
+fight than the contestants themselves. Among these was Garry Minott.
+
+"You heard how Mason, the Chicago man, euchred the Mukton gang, didn't
+you?" he had shouted to a friend one night at the Magnolia--"Oh, listen!
+boys. They set up a job on him,--he's a countryman, you know a poor
+little countryman--from a small village called Chicago--he's got three
+millions, remember, all in hard cash. Nice, quiet motherly old gentleman
+is Mr. Mason--butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Went into Mukton with
+every dollar he had--so kind of Mr. Breen to let him in--yes, put him
+down for 2,000 shares more. Then Breen & Co. began to hoist her up--five
+points--ten points--twenty points. At the end of the week they had,
+without knowing it, bought every share of Mason's stock." Here Garry
+roared, as did the others within hearing. "And they've got it yet. Next
+day the bottom dropped out. Some of them heard Mason laugh all the way
+to the bank. He's cleaned up half a million and gone back home--'so
+afraid his mother would spank him for being out late o' nights without
+his nurse,'" and again Garry's laugh rang out with such force and
+earnestness that the glasses on Biffy's table chinked in response.
+
+This financial set-back, while it had injured, for the time, Arthur
+Breen's reputation for being "up and dressed," had not, to any
+appreciable extent, curtailed his expenditures or narrowed the area of
+his social domain. Mrs. Breen's dinners and entertainments had been as
+frequent and as exclusive, and Miss Corinne had continued to run the
+gamut of the gayest and best patronized functions without, the Scribe
+is pained to admit, bringing home with her for good and all both her
+cotillion favors and the gentleman who had bestowed them. Her little
+wren-like head had moved from side to side, and she had sung her
+sweetest and prettiest, but somehow, when the song was over and the
+crumbs all eaten (and there were often two dinners a week and at least
+one dance), off went the male birds to other and more captivating
+roosts.
+
+Mrs. Breen, of course, raved when Corinne at last opened the door of her
+cage for Garry,--went to bed, in fact, for the day, to accentuate her
+despair and mark her near approach to death because of it--a piece of
+inconsistency she could well have spared herself, knowing Corinne as she
+had, from the day of her birth, and remembering as she must have done,
+her own escapade with the almost penniless young army officer who
+afterward became Corinne's father.
+
+Breen did not rave; Breen rather liked it. Garry had no money, it is
+true, except what he could earn,--neither had Corinne. Garry seemed to
+do as he darned pleased,--so did Corinne;--Garry had no mother,--neither
+had Corinne so far as yielding to any authority was concerned.
+"Yes,--let 'em marry,--good thing--begin at the bottom round and work
+up--" all of which meant that the honorable banker was delighted over
+the prospect of considerable more freedom for himself and considerable
+less expense in the household.
+
+And so the wedding had taken place with all the necessary trimmings:
+awning over the carpeted sidewalk; four policemen on the curb;
+detectives in the hall and up the staircase and in the front bedroom
+where the jewels were exposed (all the directors of the Mukton Lode
+were represented); crowds lining the sidewalk; mob outside the church
+door--mob inside the church door and clear up to the altar; flowers,
+palms, special choir, with little bank-notes to the boys and a big
+bank-note to the leader; checks for the ranking clergyman and the two
+assistant clergymen, not forgetting crisp bills for the sexton and the
+janitor and the policemen and the detectives and everybody else who
+could hold out a hand and not be locked up in jail for highway robbery.
+Yes, a most fashionable and a most distinguished and a most exclusive
+wedding--there was no mistake about that.
+
+No one had ever seen anything like it before; some hoped they never
+would again, so great was the crush in the drawing-room. And not only
+in the drawing-room, but over every square inch of the house for that
+matter, from the front door where Parkins's assistant (an extra man from
+Delmonico's) shouted out--"Third floor back for the gentlemen and second
+floor front for the ladies"--to the innermost recesses of the library
+made over into a banquet hall, where that great functionary himself
+was pouring champagne into batteries of tumblers as if it were so much
+water, and distributing cuts of cold salmon and portions of terrapin
+with the prodigality of a charity committee serving a picnic.
+
+And then the heartaches over the cards that never came; and the presents
+that were never sent, and the wrath of the relations who got below the
+ribbon in the church and the airs of the strangers who got above it; and
+the tears over the costly dresses that did not arrive in time and the
+chagrin over those they had to wear or stay at home--and the heat and
+the jam and tear and squeeze--and the aftermath of wet glasses on
+inlaid tables and fine-spun table-cloths burnt into holes with careless
+cigarettes; and the little puddles of ice cream on the Turkish rugs and
+silk divans and the broken glass and smashed china!--No--there never had
+been such a wedding!
+
+This over, Corinne and Garry had gone to housekeeping in a dear little
+flat, to which we may be sure Jack was rarely ever invited (he had only
+received "cards" to the church, an invitation which he had religiously
+accepted, standing at the door so he could bow to them both as they
+passed)--the two, I say, had gone to a dear little flat--so dear, in
+fact, that before the year was out Garry's finances were in such a
+deplorable condition that the lease could not be renewed, and another
+and a cheaper nest had to be sought for.
+
+It was at this time that the new church to be built at Corklesville
+needed an architect--a fact which Jack communicated to Garry. Then
+it happened that with the aid of MacFarlane and Holker Morris the
+commission was finally awarded to that "rising young genius who had
+so justly distinguished himself in the atelier of America's greatest
+architect--Holker Morris--" all of which Garry wrote himself and had
+inserted in the county paper, he having called upon the editor for that
+very purpose. This service--and it came at a most critical time in the
+young man's affairs--the Scribe is glad to say, Garry, with his old-time
+generous spirit suddenly revived, graciously acknowledged thanking
+Jack heartily and with meaning in his voice, as well as MacFarlane--not
+forgetting Ruth, to whom he sent a mass of roses as big as a bandbox.
+
+The gaining of this church building--the largest and most important
+given the young architect since he had left Morris's protection and
+guidance--decided Garry to give up at once his expensive quarters in
+New York and move to Corklesville. So far as any help from the house
+of Breen was concerned, all hope had ended with the expensive and
+much-advertised wedding (a shrewd financial move, really, for a firm
+selling shady securities). Corinne had cooed, wept, and then succumbed
+into an illness, but Breen had only replied: "No, let 'em paddle their
+own canoe."
+
+This is why the sign "To Let," on one of the new houses built by the Elm
+Crest Land and Improvement Company--old Tom Corkle who owned the market
+garden farms that gave the village of Corklesville its name, would have
+laughed himself sore had he been alive--was ripped off and various teams
+loaded with all sorts of furniture, some very expensive and showy and
+some quite the contrary--especially that belonging to the servants'
+rooms--were backed up to the newly finished porch with its second coat
+of paint still wet, and their contents duly distributed upstairs and
+downstairs and in my lady Corinne's chamber.
+
+"Got to put on the brakes, old man," Garry had said one day to Jack. The
+boy had heard of the expected change in the architect's finances before
+the villa was rented, and so Garry's confidential communication was not
+news to him.
+
+"Been up to look at one of those new houses. Regular bird cage, but we
+can get along. Besides, this town is going to grow and I'm going to help
+it along. They are all dead out here--embalmed, some of them--but dead."
+Here he opened the pamphlet of the company--"See this house--an hour
+from New York; high ground; view of the harbor--(all a lie, Jack, but it
+goes all the same); sewers, running water, gas (lot of the last,--most
+of it in the prospectus) It's called Elm Crest--beautiful, isn't
+it,--and not a stump within half a mile."
+
+Jack always remembered the interview. That Garry should help along
+anything that he took an interest in was quite in the line of his
+ambition and ability. Minott was as "smart as a steel trap," Holker
+Morris had always said of him, "and a wonderful fellow among the men.
+He can get anything out of them; he would really make a good politician.
+His handling of the Corn Exchange showed that."
+
+And so it was not surprising,--not to Jack,--that when a new village
+councilman was to be elected, Garry should have secured votes enough to
+be included among their number. Nor was it at all wonderful that after
+taking his seat he should have been placed in charge of the village
+funds so far as the expenditures for contract work went. The prestige
+of Morris's office settled all doubts as to his fitness in construction;
+and the splendor of the wedding--there could still be seen posted in
+the houses of the workmen the newspaper cuts showing the bride and groom
+leaving the church--silenced all opposition to "our fellow townsman's"
+financial responsibility, even when that opposition was led by so
+prominent a ward heeler as Mr. Patrick McGowan, who had planned to get
+the position himself--and who became Garry's arch enemy thereafter.
+
+In these financial and political advancements Corinne helped but little.
+None of the village people interested her, nor did she put herself out
+in the least to be polite to them. Ruth had called and had brought her
+hands full of roses--and so had her father. Garry had continued to thank
+them both for their good word to the church wardens--and he himself now
+and then spent an evening at MacFarlane's house without Corinne, who
+generally pleaded illness; but the little flame of friendship which had
+flashed after their arrival in Corklesville had died down again.
+
+This had gone on until the acquaintance had practically ended, except
+when they met on the trains or in crossing the ferry. Then again, Ruth
+and her father lived at one end of the village known as Corklesville,
+and Garry and Corinne lived at the other end, known as Elm Crest, the
+connecting link being the railroad, a fact which Jack told Garry with a
+suggestive laugh, made them always turn their backs on each other when
+they parted to go to their respective homes, to which Garry would reply
+that it was an outrage and that he was coming up that very night--all
+of which he failed to do when the proposed visit was talked over with
+Corinne.
+
+None of this affected Jack. He would greet Corinne as affectionately and
+cordially as he had ever done. He had taken her measure years before,
+but that made no difference to him, he never forgetting that she was his
+uncle's nominal daughter; that they had been sheltered by the same roof
+and that she therefore in a way belonged to his people. Moreover, he
+realized, that like himself, she had been compelled to give up many of
+the luxuries and surroundings to which she had been accustomed and which
+she loved,--worthless now to Jack in his freedom, but still precious
+to her. This in itself was enough to bespeak his sympathy. Not that she
+valued it;--she rather sniffed at it.
+
+"I wish Jack wouldn't stand with his hat off until I get aboard the
+train," she had told Garry one day shortly after their arrival--"he
+makes me so conspicuous. And he wears such queer clothes. He was in
+his slouch hat and rough flannel shirt and high boots the other day and
+looked like a tramp."
+
+"Better not laugh at Jack, Cory," Garry had replied; "you'll be taking
+your own hat off to him one of these days; we all shall. Arthur Breen
+missed it when he let him go. Jack's queer about some things, but he's a
+thoroughbred and he's got brains!"
+
+"He insulted Mr. Breen in his own house, that's why he let him
+go," snapped Corinne. The idea of her ever taking off her hat, even
+figuratively, to John Breen, was not to be brooked,--not for an instant.
+
+"Yes, that's one way of looking at it, Cory, but I tell you if Arthur
+Breen had had Jack with him these last few months--ever since he left
+him, in fact,--and had listened once in a while to what Jack thought
+was fair and square, the firm of A. B. & Co. would have a better hold on
+things than they've got now; and he wouldn't have dropped that million
+either. The cards don't always come up the right way, even when they're
+stacked."
+
+"It just served my stepfather right for not giving us some of it, and
+I'm glad he lost it," Corinne rejoined, her anger rising again. "I have
+never forgiven him for not making me an allowance after I married, and
+I never will. He could, at least, have continued the one he always gave
+me."
+
+Garry winked sententiously, and remarked in reply that he might be
+making the distinguished money-bags an allowance himself one of these
+fine days, and he could if some of the things he was counting on came
+out top side up, but Corinne's opinions did not change either toward
+Jack or her stepfather.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+
+When the pain in Jack's heart over Ruth became unbearable, there was
+always one refuge left--one balm which never failed to soothe, and that
+was Peter.
+
+For though he held himself in readiness for her call, being seldom
+absent lest she might need his services, their constrained intercourse
+brought with it more pain than pleasure. It was then that he longed for
+the comfort which only his dear mentor could give.
+
+On these occasions Mrs. McGuffey would take the lace cover off Miss
+Felicia's bureau, as a matter of precaution, provided that lady was
+away and the room available, and roll in a big tub for the young
+gentleman--"who do be washin' hisself all the time and he that sloppy
+that I'm afeared everything will be spi'lt for the mistress," and Jack
+would slip out of his working clothes (he would often come away in his
+flannel shirt and loose tie, especially when he was late in paying off)
+and shed his heavy boots with the red clay of Jersey still clinging to
+their soles, and get into his white linen and black clothes and dress
+shoes, and then the two chums would lock arms and saunter up Fifth
+Avenue to dine either at one of Peter's clubs or at some house where
+he and that "handsome young ward of yours, Mr. Grayson--do bring him
+again," were so welcome.
+
+If Miss Felicia was in town and her room in use, there was never any
+change in the programme, Mrs. McGuffey rising to the emergency and
+discovering another and somewhat larger apartment in the next house
+but two--"for one of the finest gintlemen ye ever saw and that quiet,"
+etc.--into which Jack would move and which the good woman would insist
+on taking full charge of herself.
+
+It was on one of these blessed and always welcome nights, after the
+two had been dining at "a little crack in the wall," as Peter called a
+near-by Italian restaurant, that he and Jack stopped to speak to Isaac
+Cohen whom they found closing his shop for the night. Cohen invited
+them in and Jack, after following the little tailor through the
+deserted shop--all the work people had left--found himself, to his great
+surprise, in a small room at the rear, which Isaac opened with a key
+taken from his vest pocket, and which even in the dim light of a single
+gas jet had more the appearance of the den of a scholar, or the workshop
+of a scientist, than the private office of a fashioner of clothes.
+
+Peter only stayed a moment--long enough to borrow the second volume of
+one of Isaac's books, but the quaint interior and what it contained
+made a great impression on Jack,--so much so that when the two had
+said good-night and mounted the stairs to Peter's rooms, it was with
+increased interest that the boy listened to the old fellow who stopped
+on every landing to tell him some incident connected with the little
+tailor and his life: How after his wife's death some years before, and
+his only daughter's marriage--"and a great affair it was, my boy, I was
+there and know,"--Cohen had moved down to his shop and fitted up the
+back room for a little shelter of his own, where he had lived with his
+books and his personal belongings and where he had met the queerest
+looking people--with big heads and bushy beards--foreigners, some of
+them--speaking all kinds of languages, as well as many highly educated
+men in town.
+
+Once inside his own cosey rooms Peter bustled about, poking the fire
+into life, drawing the red curtains closer, moving a vase of roses so he
+could catch their fragrance from where he sat, wheeling two big, easy,
+all-embracing arm-chairs to the blaze, rolling a small table laden
+with various burnables and pourables within reach of their elbows, and
+otherwise disporting himself after the manner of the most cheery
+and lovable of hosts. This done, he again took up the thread of his
+discourse.
+
+"Yes! He's a wonderful old fellow, this Isaac Cohen," he rattled on when
+the two were seated. "You had only a glimpse of that den of his, but you
+should see his books on costumes,--he's an authority, you know,--and
+his miniatures,--Oh, a Cosway, which he keeps in his safe, that is a
+wonder!--and his old manuscripts. Those are locked up too. And he's a
+gentleman, too, Jack; not once in all the years I have known him have
+I ever heard him mention the word money in an objectionable way, and he
+has plenty of it even if he does press off my coat with his own hands.
+Can you recall anybody you know, my boy--even in the houses where you
+and I have been lately, who doesn't let the word slip out in a dozen
+different ways before the evening is over? And best of all, he's
+sane,--one of the few men whom it is safe to let walk around loose."
+
+"And you like him?"
+
+"Immensely."
+
+"And you never remember he is a Jew?" This was one of the things Jack
+had never understood.
+
+"Never;--that's not his fault,--rather to his credit."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because the world is against both him and his race, and yet in all the
+years I have known him, nothing has ever soured his temper."
+
+Jack struck a match, relit his cigar and settling himself more
+comfortably in his chair, said in a positive tone:
+
+"Sour or sweet,--I don't like Jews,--never did."
+
+"You don't like him because you don't know him. That's your fault, not
+his. But you would like him, let me tell you, if you could hear him
+talk. And now I think of it, I am determined you shall know him, and
+right away. Not that he cares--Cohen's friends are among the best men in
+London, especially the better grade of theatrical people, whose
+clothes he has made and whose purses he has kept full--yes--and whom he
+sometimes had to bury to keep them out of Potter's field; and those he
+knows here--his kind of people, I mean, not yours."
+
+"All in his line of business, Uncle Peter," Jack laughed. "How much
+interest did they pay,--cent per cent?"
+
+"I am ashamed of you, Jack. Not a penny. Don't let your mind get clogged
+up, my boy, with such prejudices,--keep the slate of your judgment
+sponged clean."
+
+"But you believe everybody is clean, Uncle Peter."
+
+"And so must you, until you prove them dirty. Now, will you do me a very
+great kindness and yourself one as well? Please go downstairs, rap three
+times at Mr. Cohen's shutters--hard, so that he can hear you--that's my
+signal--present my compliments and ask him to be kind enough to come up
+and have a cigar with us."
+
+Jack leaned forward in his seat, his face showing his astonishment.
+
+"You don't mean it?"
+
+"I do."
+
+"All right."
+
+The boy was out of his chair and clattering down-stairs before Peter
+could add another word to his message. If he had asked him to crawl out
+on the roof and drop himself into the third-story window of the next
+house, he would have obeyed him with the same alacrity.
+
+Peter wheeled up another chair; added some small and large glasses to
+the collection on the tray and awaited Jack's return. The experience
+was not new. The stupid, illogical prejudice was not confined to
+inexperienced lads.
+
+He had had the same thing to contend with dozens of times before. Even
+Holker had once said: "Peter, what the devil do you find in that little
+shrimp of a Hebrew to interest you? Is he cold that you warm him, or
+hungry that you feed him,--or lonely that--"
+
+"Stop right there, Holker! You've said it,--lonely--that's it--LONELY!
+That's what made me bring him up the first time he was ever here.
+It seemed such a wicked thing to me to have him at one end of the
+house--the bottom end, too--crooning over a fire, and I at the top end
+crooning over another, when one blaze could warm us both. So up he came,
+Holker, and now it is I who am lonely when a week passes and Isaac does
+not tap at my door, or I tap at his."
+
+The distinguished architect understood it all a week later when the
+new uptown synagogue was being talked of and he was invited to meet the
+board, and found to his astonishment that the wise little man with the
+big gold spectacles, occupying the chair was none other than Peter's
+tailor.
+
+"Our mutual friend Mr. Grayson, of the Exeter Bank, spoke to me about
+you, Mr. Morris," said the little man without a trace of foreign accent
+and with all the composure of a great banker making a government loan;
+rising at the same time, with great dignity introducing Morris to his
+brother trustees and then placing him in the empty seat next his own.
+After that, and on more than one occasion, there were three chairs
+around Peter's blaze, with Morris in one of them.
+
+All these thoughts coursed through Peter's head as Jack and Cohen were
+mounting the three flights of stairs.
+
+"Ah, Isaac," he cried at first sight of his friend, "I just wanted you
+to know my boy, Jack Breen, better, and as his legs are younger than
+mine, I sent him down instead of going myself--you don't mind, do you?"
+
+"Mind!--of course I do not mind,--but I do know Mr. Breen. I first met
+him many months ago--when your sister was here--and then I see him going
+in and out all the time--and--"
+
+"Stop your nonsense, Isaac;--that's not the way to know a man; that's
+the way not to know him, but what's more to the point is, I want Jack to
+know you. These young fellows have very peculiar ideas about a good many
+things,--and this boy is like all the rest--some of which ought to
+be knocked out of his head,--your race, for one thing. He thinks that
+because you are a Jew that you--"
+
+Jack uttered a smothered, "Oh, Uncle Peter!" but the old fellow who now
+had the tailor in one of his big chairs and was filling a thin wineglass
+with a brown liquid (ten years in the wood)--Holker sent it--kept
+straight on. "Jack's all right inside, or I wouldn't love him, but there
+are a good many things he has got to learn, and you happen to be one of
+them."
+
+Cohen lay back in his chair and laughed heartily.
+
+"Do not mind him, Mr. Breen,--do not mind a word he says. He mortifies
+me that same way. And now--" here he turned his head to Peter--"what
+does he think of my race?"
+
+"Oh! He thinks you are a lot of money-getters and pawnbrokers, gouging
+the poor and squeezing the rich."
+
+Jack broke out into a cold perspiration: "Really, Uncle Peter! Now,
+Mr. Cohen, won't you please believe that I never said one word of it,"
+exclaimed Jack in pleading tones, his face expressing his embarrassment.
+
+"I never said you did, Jack," rejoined Peter with mock solemnity in his
+voice. "I said you THOUGHT so. And now here he is,--look at him. Does he
+look like Scrooge or Shylock or some old skinflint who--" here he faced
+Cohen, his eyes brimming with merriment--"What are we going to do with
+this blasphemer, Isaac? Shall we boil him in oil as they did that old
+sixteenth-century saint you were telling me about the other night, or
+shall we--?"
+
+The little tailor threw out his hands--each finger an exclamation
+point--and laughed heartily, cutting short Peter's tirade.
+
+"No--no--we do none of these dreadful things to Mr. Breen; he is too
+good to be a saint," and he patted Jack's knees--"and then again it
+is only the truth. Mr. Breen is quite right; we are a race of
+money-getters, and we are also the world's pawnbrokers and will always
+be. Sometimes we make a loan on a watch or a wedding ring to keep
+some poor soul from starving; sometimes it is a railroad to give a
+millionaire a yacht, or help buy his wife a string of pearls. It is
+quite the same, only over one shop we hang three gilt balls: on the
+other we nail a sign which reads: 'Financial Agents.' And it is the
+same Jew, remember, who stands behind both counters. The first Jew is
+overhauled almost every day by the police; the second Jew is regarded
+as our public-spirited citizen. So you see, my young friend, that it is
+only a question of the amount of money you have got whether you loan on
+rings or railroads."
+
+"And whether the Christian lifts his hat or his boot," laughed Peter.
+
+Cohen leaned his elbows on his plump knees and went on, the slender
+glass still in his hand, from which now and then he took a sip. Peter
+sat buried in his chair, his cigar between his fingers. Jack held his
+peace; it was not for him to air his opinions in the presence of the two
+older men, and then again the tailor had suddenly become a savant.
+
+"Of course, there are many things I wish were different," the tailor
+continued in a more thoughtful tone. "Many of my people forget their
+birthright and force themselves on the Christian, trying to break down
+the fence which has always divided us, and which is really our
+best protection. As long as we keep to ourselves we are a power.
+Persecution,--and sometimes it amounts to that--is better than
+amalgamation; it brings out our better fighting qualities and makes us
+rely on ourselves. This is the view of our best thinkers, and they are
+right. Just hear me run on! Why talk about these things? They are
+for graybeards, not young fellows with the world before them." Cohen
+straightened up--laid his glass on the small table, waved his hand in
+denial to Peter who started to refill it, and continued, turning to
+Jack: "And now let me hear something about your own work, Mr. Breen," he
+said in his kindest and most interested voice. "Mr. Grayson tells me you
+are cutting a great tunnel. Under a mountain, is it not? Ah!--that is
+something worth doing. And here is this old uncle of yours with his
+fine clothes and his old wine, who does nothing but pore over his musty
+bank-books, and here am I in the cellar below, who can only sew on
+buttons, and yet we have the impudence to criticise you. Really, I never
+heard of such conceit!"
+
+"Oh!--but it isn't my tunnel," Jack eagerly protested, greatly amused
+at the Jew's talk; "I am just an assistant, Mr. Cohen." Somehow he had
+grown suddenly smaller since the little man had been talking.
+
+"Yes,--of course, we are all assistants; Mr. Grayson assists at the
+bank, and I assist my man, Jacob, who makes such funny mistakes in the
+cut of his trousers. Oh, yes, that is quite the way life is made up. But
+about this tunnel? It is part of this new branch, is it not? Some of
+my friends have told me about it. And it is going straight through the
+mountain."
+
+And then before Jack or Peter could reply the speaker branched out into
+an account of the financing of the great Mt. Cenis tunnel, and why
+the founder of the house of Rothschild, who had "assisted" in its
+construction, got so many decorations from foreign governments; the talk
+finally switching off to the enamelled and jewelled snuff boxes of Baron
+James Rothschild, whose collection had been the largest in Europe; and
+what had become of it; and then by one of those illogical jumps--often
+indulged in by well-informed men discussing any subject that absorbs
+them--brought up at Voltaire and Taine and the earlier days of the
+Revolution in which one of the little tailor's ancestors had suffered
+spoliation and death.
+
+Jack sat silent--he had long since found himself out of his
+depth--drinking in every word of the talk, his wonderment increasing
+every moment, not only over Cohen, but over Peter as well, whom he had
+never before heard so eloquent or so learned, or so entertaining.
+When at last the little man rose to go, the boy, with one of those
+spontaneous impulses which was part of his nature, sprang from his seat,
+found the tailor's hat himself, and conducting him to the door, wished
+him good-night with all the grace and well-meant courtesy he would show
+a prince of the blood, should he ever be fortunate enough to meet one.
+
+Peter was standing on the mat, his back to the fire, when the boy
+returned.
+
+"Jack, you delight me!" the old fellow cried. "Your father couldn't have
+played host better. Really, I am beginning to believe I won't have to
+lock you up in an asylum. You're getting wonderfully sane, my boy,--real
+human. Jack, do you know that if you keep on this way I shall really
+begin to love you!"
+
+"But what an extraordinary man," exclaimed Jack, ignoring Peter's
+compliment and badinage. "Is there anything he does not know?"
+
+"Yes,--many things. Oh! a great many things. He doesn't know how to be
+rude, or ill bred, or purse-proud. He doesn't know how to snub people
+who are poorer than he is, or to push himself in where he isn't
+wanted; or to talk behind people's backs after he has accepted their
+hospitality. Just plain gentleman journeyman tailor, Jack. And now, my
+boy, be honest. Isn't he a relief after some of the people you and I
+meet every day?"
+
+Jack settled again in his chair. His mind was not at all easy.
+
+"Yes, he is, and that makes me afraid I was rude. I didn't mean to be."
+
+"No,--you acted just right. I wanted to draw him out so you could hear,
+and you must say that he was charming. And the best of it is that he
+could have talked equally well on a dozen other subjects."
+
+For some time Jack did not answer. Despite Peter's good opinion of him,
+he still felt that he had either said or done something he should be
+ashamed of. He knew it was his snap judgment about Cohen that had been
+the cause of the object lesson he had just received. Peter had not
+said so in so many words--it was always with a jest or a laugh that he
+corrected his faults, but he felt their truth all the same.
+
+For some minutes he leaned back in his chair, his eyes on the ceiling;
+then he said in a tone of conviction:
+
+"I WAS wrong about Mr. Cohen, Uncle Peter. I am always putting my
+foot in it. He is an extraordinary man. He certainly is, to listen to,
+whatever he is in his business."
+
+"No, Jack, my boy--you were only honest," Peter rejoined, passing over
+the covert allusion to the financial side of the tailor. "You didn't
+like his race and you said so. Act first. Then you found out you were
+wrong and you said so. Act second. Then you discovered you owed him an
+ample apology and you bowed him out as if he had been a duke. Act third.
+And now comes the epilogue--Better be kind and human than be king! Eh,
+Jack?" and the old gentleman threw back his head and laughed heartily.
+
+Jack made no reply. He was through with Cohen;--something else was on
+his mind of far more importance than the likes and dislikes of all the
+Jews in Christendom. Something he had intended to lay before Peter at
+the very moment the old fellow had sent him for Isaac--something he had
+come all the way to New York to discuss with him; something that had
+worried him for days. There was but half an hour left; then he must get
+his bag and say good-night and good-by for another week or more.
+
+Peter noticed the boy's mood and laid his hand on his wrist. Somehow
+this was not the same Jack.
+
+"I haven't hurt you, my son, have I?" he asked with a note of tenderness
+in his voice.
+
+"Hurt me! You couldn't hurt me, Uncle Peter!" There was no question of
+his sincerity as he spoke. It sprang straight from his heart.
+
+"Well, then, what's the matter?--out with it. No secrets from blundering
+old Peter," he rejoined in a satisfied tone.
+
+Jack laughed gently: "Well, sir, it's about the work." It wasn't; but it
+might lead to it later on.
+
+"Work!--what's the matter with the work! Anything wrong?" There was a
+note of alarm now that made Jack reply hastily:
+
+"No, it will be finished next month: we are lining up the arches this
+week and the railroad people have already begun to dump their cross ties
+along the road bed. It's about another job. Mr. MacFarlane, I am afraid,
+hasn't made much money on the fill and tunnel, but he has some other
+work offered him up in Western Maryland, which he may take, and which,
+if he does, may pay handsomely. He wants me to go with him. It means
+a shanty and a negro cook, as near as I can figure it, but I shall get
+used to that, I suppose. What do you think about it?"
+
+"Well," chuckled Peter--it was not news; MacFarlane had told him all
+about it the week before at the Century--"if you can keep the shanty
+tight and the cook sober you may weather it. It must be great fun living
+in a shanty. I never tried it, but I would like to."
+
+"Yes, perhaps it is,--but it has its drawbacks. I can't come to see you
+for one thing, and then the home will be broken up. Miss Ruth will go
+back to her grandmother's for a while, she says, and later on she
+will visit the Fosters at Newport and perhaps spend a month with Aunt
+Felicia." He called her so now.
+
+Jack paused for some further expression of opinion from his always ready
+adviser, but Peter's eyes were still fixed on the slow, dying fire.
+
+"It will be rather a rough job from what I saw of it," Jack went on. "We
+are to run a horizontal shaft into some ore deposits. Mr. MacFarlane and
+I have been studying the plans for some time; we went over the ground
+together last month. That's why I didn't come to you last week."
+
+Peter twisted his head: "What's the name of the nearest town?"
+MacFarlane had told him but he had forgotten.
+
+"Morfordsburg. I was there once with my father when I was a boy. He had
+some ore lands near where these are;--those he left me. The Cumberland
+property we always called it. I told you about it once. It will never
+amount to anything,--except by expensive boring. That is also what hurts
+the value of this new property the Maryland Mining Company owns. That's
+what they want Mr. MacFarlane for. Now, what would you do if you were
+me?"
+
+"What sort of a town is Morfordsburg?" inquired Peter, ignoring Jack's
+question, his head still buried between his shoulders.
+
+"Oh, like all other country villages, away from railroad connection."
+
+"Any good houses,--any to rent?"
+
+"Yes,--I saw two."
+
+"And you want my advice, do you, Jack?" he burst out, rising erect in
+his seat.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I'd stick to MacFarlane and take Ruth with me."
+
+Jack broke out into a forced laugh. Peter had arrived by a short cut!
+Now he knew, he was a mind reader.
+
+"She won't go," he answered in a voice that showed he was open to
+conviction. Peter, perhaps, had something up his sleeve.
+
+"Have you asked her?" The old fellow's eyes were upon him now.
+
+"No,--not in so many words."
+
+"Well, try it. She has always gone with her father; she loves the
+outdoor life and it loves her. I never saw her look as pretty as she is
+now, and she has her horse too. Try asking her yourself, beg her to come
+along and keep house and make a home for the three of you."
+
+Jack leaned back in his seat, his face a tangle of hopes and fears. What
+was Uncle Peter driving at, anyhow?
+
+"I have tried other things, and she would not listen," he said in a more
+positive tone. Again the two interviews he had had with Ruth came into
+his mind; the last one as if it had been yesterday.
+
+"Try until she DOES listen," continued Peter. "Tell her you will be
+very lonely if she doesn't go, and that she is the one and only thing
+in Corklesville that interests you outside of your work--and be sure you
+mention the dear girl first and the work last--and that you won't have
+another happy hour if she leaves you in the--"
+
+"Oh!--Uncle Peter!"
+
+"And why not? It's a fact, isn't it? You were honest about Isaac; why
+not be honest with Ruth?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"No, you're not,--you only tell her half what's in your heart. Tell
+her all of it! The poor child has been very much depressed of late, so
+Felicia tells me, over something that troubles her, and I wouldn't be
+at all surprised if you were at the bottom of it. Give yourself an
+overhauling and find out what you have said or done to hurt her. She
+will never forget you for pulling her father out of that hole, nor will
+he."
+
+Jack bristled up: "I don't want her to think of me in that way!"
+
+"Oh, you don't! don't you? Oh, of course not! You want her to think of
+you as a great and glorious young knight who goes prancing about
+the world doing good from habit, and yet you are so high and mighty
+that--Jack, you rascal, do you know you are the stupidest thing that
+breathes? You're like a turkey, my boy, trying to get over the top rail
+of a pen with its head in the air, when all it has to do is to stoop a
+little and march out on its toes."
+
+Jack rose from his seat and walked toward the fire, where he stood with
+one hand on the mantel. He knew Peter had a purpose in all his raillery
+and yet he dared not voice the words that trembled on his lips; he could
+tell the old fellow everything in his life except his love for Ruth
+and her refusal to listen to him. This was the bitterest of all his
+failures, and this he would not and could not pour into Peter's ears.
+Neither did he want Ruth to have Peter's help, nor Miss Felicia's; nor
+MacFarlane's; not anybody's help where her heart was concerned. If Ruth
+loved him that was enough, but he wouldn't have anybody persuade her to
+love him, or advise with her about loving him. How much Peter knew he
+could not say. Perhaps!--perhaps Ruth told him something!--something he
+was keeping to himself!
+
+As this last thought forced itself into his brain a great surge of joy
+swept over him. For a brief moment he stood irresolute. One of Peter's
+phrases now rang clear: "Stoop a little!" Stoop?--hadn't he done
+everything a man could do to win a woman, and had he not found the bars
+always facing him?
+
+With this his heart sank again. No, there was no use of thinking
+anything more about it, nor would he tell him. There were some things
+that even Peter couldn't understand,--and no wonder, when you think how
+many years had gone by since he loved any woman.
+
+The chime of the little clock rang out.
+
+Jack turned quickly: "Eleven o'clock, Uncle Peter, and I must go; time's
+up. I hate to leave you."
+
+"And what about the shanty and the cook?" said Peter, his eyes searching
+Jack's.
+
+"I'll go,--I intended to go all the time if you approved."
+
+"And what about Ruth?"
+
+"Don't ask me, Uncle Peter, not now." And he hurried off to pack his
+bag.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+
+If Jack, after leaving Peter and racing for the ferry, had, under
+Peter's advice, formulated in his mind any plan by which he could break
+down Ruth's resolve to leave both her father and himself in the lurch
+and go out in the gay world alone, there was one factor which he must
+have left out of his calculations--and that was the unexpected.
+
+One expression of Peter's, however, haunted him all the way home:--that
+Ruth was suffering and that he had been the cause of it. Had he hurt
+her?--and if so, how and when? With this, the dear girl's face, with
+the look of pain on it which Miss Felicia had noticed, rose before him.
+Perhaps Peter was right. He had never thought of Ruth's side of the
+matter--had never realized that she, too, might have suffered. To-morrow
+he would go to her. If he could not win her for himself he could, at
+least, find out the cause and help relieve her pain.
+
+This idea so possessed him that it was nearly dawn before he dropped to
+sleep.
+
+With the morning everything changed.
+
+Such a rain had never been known to fall--not in the memory of the
+oldest moss-back in the village--if any such ancient inhabitant existed.
+Twelve hours of it had made rivers of the streets, quagmires of the
+roads, and covered the crossings ankle-deep with mud. It had begun in
+the night while Isaac was expounding his views on snuff boxes, tunnels,
+and Voltaire to Peter and Jack, had followed Jack across the river and
+had continued to soak into his clothes until he opened Mrs. Hicks's
+front door with his private key. It was still pelting away the next
+morning, when Jack, alarmed at its fury, bolted his breakfast, and,
+donning his oilskins and rubber boots, hurried to the brick office from
+whose front windows he could get a view of the fill, the culvert, and
+the angry stream, and from whose rear windows could be seen half a mile
+up the raging torrent, the curve of the unfinished embankment flanking
+one side of the new boulevard which McGowan was building under a
+contract with the village.
+
+Hardly had he slipped off his boots and tarpaulins when MacFarlane, in
+mackintosh and long rubber boots, splashed in:
+
+"Breen," said his Chief, loosening the top button of his storm coat and
+threshing the water from his cap:
+
+Jack was on his feet in an instant:
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"I wish you would take a look at the boulevard spillway. I know
+McGowan's work and how he skins it sometimes, and I'm getting worried.
+Coggins says the water is backing up, and that the slopes are giving
+way. You can see yourself what a lot of water is coming down--" here
+they both gazed through the open window. "I never saw that stream look
+like that since I've been here; there must be a frightful pressure now
+on McGowan's retaining walls. We should have a close shave if anything
+gave way above us. Our own culvert's working all right, but it's taxed
+now to its utmost."
+
+Jack unhooked his water-proof from a nail behind the door--he had began
+putting on his rubber boots again before MacFarlane finished speaking.
+
+"He will have to pay the bills, sir, if anything gives way--" Jack
+replied in a determined voice. "Garry told me only last week that
+McGowan had to take care of his own water; that was part of his
+contract. It comes under Garry's supervision, you know."
+
+"Yes, I know, and that may all be so, Breen," he replied with a
+flickering smile, "but it won't do us any good,--or the road either.
+They want to run cars next month."
+
+The door again swung wide, and a man drenched to the skin, the water
+glistening on his bushy gray beard stepped in.
+
+"I heard you were here, sir, and had to see you. There's only four
+feet lee-way in our culvert, sir, and the scour's eating into the
+underpinning; I am just up from there. We are trying bags of cement, but
+it doesn't do much good."
+
+MacFarlane caught up his hat and the two hurried down stream to the
+"fill," while Jack, buttoning his oilskin jacket over his chest, and
+crowding his slouch hat close to his eyebrows and ears strode out into
+the downpour, his steps bent in the opposite direction.
+
+The sight that met his eyes was even more alarming. The once quiet
+little stream, with its stretch of meadowland reaching to the foot of
+the steep hills, was now a swirl of angry reddish water careering toward
+the big culvert under the "fill." There it struck the two flanking walls
+of solid masonry, doubled in volume and thus baffled, shot straight into
+and under the culvert and so on over the broad fields below.
+
+Up the stream toward the boulevard on the other side of its sky line,
+groups of men were already engaged carrying shovels, or lugging pieces
+of timber as they hurried along its edge, only to disappear for an
+instant and reappear again empty-handed. Shouts could be heard, as if
+some one were giving orders. Against the storm-swept sky, McGowan's
+short, squat figure was visible, his hands waving wildly to other gangs
+of men who were running at full speed toward where he stood.
+
+Soon a knife-edge of water glistened along the crest of the earth
+embankment supporting the roadway of the boulevard, scattered into a
+dozen sluiceways, gashing the sides of the slopes, and then, before
+Jack could realize his own danger, the whole mass collapsed only to be
+swallowed up in a mighty torrent which leaped straight at him.
+
+Jack wheeled suddenly, shouted to a man behind him to run for his life,
+and raced on down stream toward the "fill" a mile below where MacFarlane
+and his men, unconscious of their danger, were strengthening the culvert
+and its approaches.
+
+On swept the flood, tearing up trees, cabins, shanties, fences; swirling
+along the tortuous bed only to leap and swirl again, its solid front
+bristling with the debris it had wrenched loose in its mad onslaught,
+Jack in his line of flight keeping abreast of its mighty thrust,
+shouting as he ran, pressing into service every man who could help in
+the rescue.
+
+But MacFarlane had already been forewarned. The engineer of the morning
+express, who had crossed close to the boulevard at the moment the break
+occurred, had leaned far out of his cab as the train thundered by at
+right angles to the "fill," and with cupped hands to his mouth, had
+hurled this yell into the ravine:
+
+"Water! Look out! Everything busted up above! Water! Water! Run, for
+God's sake!"
+
+The men stood irresolute, but MacFarlane sprang to instant action.
+Grabbing the man next him,--an Italian who understood no English--he
+dragged him along, shouting to the others, the crowd swarming up,
+throwing away their shovels in their flight until the whole posse
+reached a point of safety near the mouth of the tunnel.
+
+There he turned and braced himself for the shock. He realized fully what
+had happened: McGowan's ill-constructed culvert had sagged and choked;
+a huge basin of water had formed behind it; the retaining walls had been
+undermined and the whole mass was sweeping down upon him. Would there be
+enough of it to overflow the crest line of his own "fill" or not? If it
+could stand the first on-thrust there was one chance in a hundred of its
+safety, provided the wing-walls and the foundations of the culvert held
+up its arch, thus affording gradual relief until the flood should have
+spent its force.
+
+It was but a question of minutes. He could already see the trees sway as
+the mad flood struck them, the smaller ones rebounding, the large ones
+toppling over. Then came a dull roar like that of a tram through a
+covered bridge, and then a great wall of yellow suds, boiling, curling,
+its surface covered with sticks, planks, shingles, floating barrels,
+parts of buildings, dashed itself against the smoothed earth slopes
+of his own "fill," surged a third of its height, recoiled on itself,
+swirled furiously again, and then inch by inch rose toward the top.
+Should it plunge over the crest, the "fill" would melt away as a
+rising tide melts a sand fort, the work of months be destroyed, and his
+financial ruin be a certainty.
+
+But the man who had crawled out on the shore end of the great cantilever
+bridge over the Ohio, and who had with his own hands practically set the
+last rebellious steel girder one hundred feet above the water level, had
+still some resources left. Grabbing a shovel from a railroad employee,
+he called to his men and began digging a trench on the tunnel end of the
+"fill" to form a temporary spillway should the top of the flood reach
+the crest of the road bed.
+
+Fifty or more men sprang to his assistance with pick and shovel wherever
+one could stand and dig. The water had now reached within five feet of
+the top: the rise was slower, showing that the volume had lessened; the
+soakage, too, was helping, but the water still gained. The bottom of the
+trench, cut transversely across the road bed of the "fill," out of which
+the dirt was still flying from scores of willing shovels, had reached
+the height of the flood line. It was wide enough and deep enough to take
+care of the slowly rising overflow and would relieve the pressure on the
+whole structure; but the danger was not there. What was to be feared was
+the scour on the down-stream--far side--slope of the "fill." This also,
+was of loose earth: too great a gulch might mean total collapse.
+
+To lessen this scour MacFarlane had looted a carload of plank switched
+on to a siding, and a gang of men in charge of Jack,--who had now
+reached his Chief's side,--were dragging them along the downstream slope
+to form sluices with which to break the force of the scour.
+
+The top of the flood now poured into the mouth of the newly dug trench,
+biting huge mouthfuls of earth from its sides in its rush; spreading the
+reddish water fan-like over the down-stream slope: first into gullies;
+then a broad sluiceway that sunk out of sight in the soft earth; then
+crumblings, slidings of tons of sand and gravel, with here and there
+a bowlder washed clean; the men working like beavers,--here to free a
+rock, there to drive home a plank, the trench all the while deepening,
+widening--now a gulch ten feet across and as deep, now a canon through
+which surged a solid mass of frenzied water.
+
+With the completion of the first row of planking MacFarlane took up a
+position where he could overlook all parts of the work. Every now and
+then his eyes would rest on a water-gauge which he had improvised from
+the handle of a pick; the rise and fall of the wet mark showing him both
+the danger and the safety lines. He seemed the least interested man
+in the group. Once in a while he would consult his watch, counting the
+seconds, only to return to the gauge.
+
+That thousands of dollars' damage had so far been done did not seem to
+affect him in the least. Only when Jack would call out that everything
+so far was solid on the main "fill" did his calm face light up.
+
+Tightening his wide slouch hat farther down on his head, he drew up
+the tops of his high-water boots and strode through the slush to the
+pick-handle. His wooden record showed that half an hour before the water
+had been rising at the rate of an inch every three minutes; that it had
+then taken six, and now required eight! He glanced at the sky; it had
+stopped raining and a light was breaking in the West.
+
+Pocketing his watch he beckoned to Jack:
+
+"The worst is over, Breen," he said in a voice of perfect calmness--the
+tone of a doctor after feeling a patient's pulse. "Our culvert is doing
+its work and relieving the pressure. This water will be out of here by
+morning. Tell the foreman to keep those planks moving wherever they do
+any good, but they won't count much longer. You can see the difference
+already in the overflow. And now go up to the house and tell Ruth. She
+may not know we are all right and will be worrying."
+
+Jack's heart gave a bound. No more delightful duty could devolve on him.
+
+"What shall I tell her about the damage if she asks me, sir?" he
+demanded, hiding his pleasure in a perfunctory, businesslike tone, "and
+she will."
+
+"Tell her it means all summer here for me and no new bonnets for her
+until next winter," replied MacFarlane with a grim smile.
+
+"Yes, I suppose, but I referred to the money loss," Jack laughed in
+reply. "There is no use worrying her if we are not to blame for this."
+He didn't intend to worry her. He was only feeling about for some topic
+which would prolong his visit and encourage conversation.
+
+"If we are, it means some thousands of dollars on the wrong side of the
+ledger," answered MacFarlane after a pause, a graver tone in his
+voice. "But don't tell Ruth that. Just give her my message about the
+bonnet--she will understand."
+
+"But not if McGowan is liable," argued Jack. If Ruth was to hear bad
+news it could at least be qualified.
+
+"That depends somewhat on the wording of his contract, Breen, and a good
+deal on whether this village wants to hold him to it. I'm not crossing
+any bridges of that kind, and don't you. What I'm worrying about is the
+number of days and nights it's going to take to patch this work so they
+can get trains through our tunnel--And, Breen--"
+
+"Yes, sir," answered Jack, as he stopped and looked over his shoulder.
+There were wings on his feet now.
+
+"Get into some dry clothes before you come back."
+
+While all this had been going on Ruth had stood at the window in the
+upper hall opposite the one banked with geraniums, too horrified to
+move. She had watched with the aid of her opera-glass the wild torrent
+rushing through the meadow, and she had heard the shouts of the people
+in the streets and the prolonged roar when the boulevard embankment gave
+way.
+
+The hurried entrance and startled cry of the grocer's boy in the kitchen
+below, and the loud talk that followed, made her move to the head of
+the stairs. There she stood listening, her heart in her mouth, her knees
+trembling. Such expressions as "drownded,"--"more'n a hundred of 'em--"
+reached her ears. Then came the words--"de boss's work busted; ain't
+nobody seen him alive, so dey say."
+
+For an instant she clutched the hand rail to keep her from falling, then
+with a cry of terror she caught up an old cloth cape, bound a hat to her
+head with a loose veil, and was downstairs and into the street before
+the boy had reached the curb.
+
+"Yes, mum," he stammered, breathlessly, his eyes bulging from his
+head,--"Oh! it's awful, mum! Don't know how many's drownded! Everybody's
+shovelin' on de railroad dump, but dere ain't nothin' kin save it, dey
+say!"
+
+She raced on--across the long street, avoiding the puddles as best she
+could; past the Hicks Hotel--no sign of Jack anywhere--past the factory
+fence, until she reached the railroad, where she stopped, gathered her
+bedraggled skirts in her hand and then sped on over the cross-ties like
+a swallow, her little feet scarce touching the cinders.
+
+Jack had caught sight of the flying girl as she gained the railroad
+and awaited her approach; he supposed she was the half-crazed wife or
+daughter of some workman, bringing news of fresh disaster, until she
+approached near enough for him to note the shape and size of her boots
+and the way the hat and veil framed her face. But it was not until
+she uttered a cry of agony and ran straight toward him, that he sprang
+forward to meet her and caught her in his aims to keep her from falling.
+
+"Oh, Jack!--where is daddy--where--" she gasped.
+
+"Why, he is all right, Miss Ruth,--everybody's all right! Why did
+you come here? Oh! I am so sorry you have had this fright! Don't
+answer,--just lean on me until you get your breath."
+
+"Yes--but are you sure he is safe? The grocer's boy said nobody had seen
+him alive."
+
+"Of course I am sure! Just look across--there he is; nobody could ever
+mistake that old slouch hat of his. And look at the big 'fill.' It
+hasn't given an inch, Miss Ruth--think of it! What a shame you have had
+such a fright," he continued as he led her to a pile of lumber beside
+the track and moved out a dry plank where he seated her as tenderly as
+if she had been a frightened child, standing over her until she breathed
+easier.
+
+"But then, if he is safe, why did you leave daddy? You are not hurt
+yourself, are you?" she exclaimed suddenly, reaching up her hand and
+catching the sleeve of his tarpaulin, a great lump in her throat.
+
+"Me, hurt!--not a bit of it,--not a scratch of any kind,--see!" As an
+object-lesson he stretched out his arm and with one clenched hand smote
+his chest gorilla fashion.
+
+"But you are all wet--" she persisted, in a more reassured tone. "You
+must not stand here in this wind; you will get chilled to the bone. You
+must go home and get into dry clothes;--please say you will go?"
+
+Something warm and scintillating started from Jack's toes as the words
+left her lips, surged along his spinal column, set his finger tips
+tingling and his heart thumping like a trip hammer. She had called him
+"Jack!" She had run a mile to rescue him and her father, and she was
+anxious lest he should endanger his precious life by catching cold.
+Cold!--had he been dragged through the whirlpool of Niagara in the
+dead of winter with the thermometer at zero and then cast on a stranded
+iceberg he would now be sizzling hot.
+
+Again she repeated her command,--this time in a more peremptory tone,
+the same anxious note in her voice.
+
+"Please come, if daddy doesn't want you any more you must go home
+at once. I wouldn't have you take cold for--" she did not finish the
+sentence; something in his face told her that her solicitude might
+already have betrayed her.
+
+"Of course, I will go just as soon as you are rested a little, but you
+mustn't worry about me, Miss Ruth, I am as wet as a rat, I know, but I
+am that way half the time when it rains. These tarpaulins let in a
+lot of water--" here he lifted his arms so she could see the openings
+herself--"and then I got in over my boots trying to plug the holes in
+the sluiceway with some plank." He was looking down into her eyes now.
+Never had he seen her so pretty. The exercise had made roses of her
+cheeks, and the up-turned face framed by the thatch of a bonnet bound
+with the veil, reminded him of a Madonna.
+
+"And is everything all right with daddy? And was there nobody in the
+shanties?" she went on. "Perhaps I might better try to get over where he
+is;--do you think I can? I would just like to tell him how glad I am it
+is no worse."
+
+"Yes, if you change boots with me," laughed Jack, determined to divert
+her mind; "I was nearly swamped getting back here. That is where most of
+this mud came from--" and Jack turned his long, clay-encrusted boot so
+that Ruth could see how large a section of the "fill" he had brought
+with him.
+
+Ruth began to laugh. There was no ostensible reason why she should
+laugh; there was nothing about Jack's make-up to cause it. Indeed, she
+thought he had never looked so handsome, even if his hair were plastered
+to his temples under his water-soaked hat and his clothes daubed with
+mud.
+
+And yet she did laugh:--At the way her veil got knotted under her
+chin,--so tightly knotted that Jack had to take both hands to loosen it,
+begging pardon for touching her throat, and hoping all the while that
+his clumsy fingers had not hurt her;--at the way her hat was crumpled,
+the flowers "never,--never, being of the slightest use to anybody
+again"; at her bedraggled skirts--"such a sight, and sopping wet."
+
+And Jack laughed, too,--agreeing to everything she said, until she
+reached that stage in the conversation, never omitted on occasions of
+this kind, when she declared, arching her head, that she must look like
+a perfect fright, which Jack at once refuted exclaiming that he had
+never seen her look so--he was going to say "pretty," but checked
+himself and substituted "well," instead, adding, as he wiped off
+her ridiculously small boots, despite her protests, with his wet
+handkerchief,--that cloud-bursts were not such bad things, after all,
+now that he was to have the pleasure of escorting her home.
+
+And so the two walked back to the village, the afternoon sun, which
+had now shattered the lowering clouds, gilding and glorifying their
+two faces, Jack stopping at Mrs. Hicks's to change his clothes and Ruth
+keeping on to the house, where he was to join her an hour later, when
+the two would have a cup of tea and such other comforts as that young
+lady might prepare for her water-soaked lover.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+
+If ten minutes make half an hour, then it took Jack that long to rush
+upstairs, two steps at a time, burst into his room, strip off his boots,
+tear off his wet clothes, struggle into others jerked from his wardrobe,
+tie a loose, red-silk scarf under the rolling collar of his light-blue
+flannel shirt, slip into a grey pea-jacket and unmentionables, give his
+hair a brush and a promise, tilt a dry hat on one side of his head and
+skip down-stairs again.
+
+Old Mrs. Hicks had seen him coming and had tried to catch him as he
+flew out the door, hoping to get some more definite news of the calamity
+which had stirred the village, but he was gone before she could reach
+the front hall.
+
+He had not thought of his better clothes; there might still be work to
+do, and his Chief might again need his services. Ruth would understand,
+he said to himself--all of which was true. Indeed, she liked him better
+in his high-water rubber boots, wide slouch hat and tarpaulins than in
+the more conventional suit of immaculate black with which he clothed his
+shapely body whenever he took her to one of the big dinners at one of
+the great houses on Washington Square.
+
+And she liked this suit best of all. She had been peeping through the
+curtains and her critical admiring eyes had missed no detail. She
+saw that the cavalier boots were gone, but she recognized the short
+pea-jacket and the loose rolling collar of the soft flannel shirt
+circling the strong, bronzed throat, and the dash of red in the silken
+scarf.
+
+And so it is not surprising that when he got within sight of her
+windows, his cheeks aflame with the crisp air, his eyes snapping with
+the joy of once more hearing her voice, her heart should have throbbed
+with an undefinable happiness and pride as she realized that for a time,
+at least, he was to be all her own. And yet when he had again taken her
+hand--the warmth of his last pressure still lingered in her palm--and
+had looked into her eyes and had said how he hoped he had not kept her
+waiting, all she could answer in reply was the non-committal remark:
+
+"Well, now you look something like"--at which Jack's heart gave a great
+bound, any compliment, however slight, being so much manna to his hungry
+soul; Ruth adding, as she led the way into the sitting-room, "I lighted
+the wood fire because I was afraid you might still be cold."
+
+And ten minutes had been enough for Ruth.
+
+It had been one of those lightning changes which a pretty girl can
+always make when her lover is expected any instant and she does not want
+to lose a moment of his time, but it had sufficed. Something soft and
+clinging it was now; her lovely, rounded figure moving in its folds as
+a mermaid moves in the surf; her hair shaken cut and caught up again in
+all its delicious abandon; her cheeks, lips, throat, rose-color in the
+joy of her expectancy.
+
+He sat drinking it all in. Had a mass of outdoor roses been laid by
+his side, their fragrance filling the air, the beauty of their coloring
+entrancing his soul, he could not have been more intoxicated by their
+beauty.
+
+And yet, strange to say, only commonplaces rose to his lips. All the
+volcano beneath, and only little spats of smoke and dying bits of ashes
+in evidence! Even the message of his Chief about her not getting a new
+bonnet all summer seemed a godsend under the circumstances. Had there
+been any basis for her self-denial he would not have told her, knowing
+how much anxiety she had suffered an hour before. But there was no real
+good reason why she should economize either in bonnets or in anything
+else she wanted. McGowan, of course, would be held responsible; for
+whatever damage had been done he would have to pay. He had been present
+when the young architect's watchful and trained eye had discovered some
+defects in the masonry of the wing walls of the McGowan culvert bridging
+the stream, and had heard him tell the contractor, in so many words that
+if the water got away and smashed anything below him he would charge the
+loss to his account. McGowan had groveled in dissent, but it had made no
+impression on Garry, whose duty it was to see that the work was properly
+carried out and whose signature loosened the village purse strings.
+
+None of these details would interest Ruth; nor was it necessary that
+they should. The bonnet, however, was another matter. Bonnets were
+worn over pretty heads and framed lovely hair and faces and eyes--one
+especially! And then again any pleasantry of her father's would tend to
+relieve her mind after the anxiety of the morning. Yes, the bonnet by
+all means!
+
+"Oh, I never gave you your father's message," he began, laying aside
+his cup, quite as if he had just remembered it. "I ought to have done so
+before you hung up the hat you wore a while ago."
+
+Ruth looked up, smiling: "Why?" There was a roguish expression about her
+mouth as she spoke. She was very happy this afternoon.
+
+"He says you won't get a new bonnet all summer," continued Jack, toying
+with the end of the ribbon that floated from her waist.
+
+Ruth put down her cup and half rose from her chair All the color had
+faded from her cheeks.
+
+"Did he tell you that?" she cried, her eyes staring into his, her voice
+trembling as if from some sudden fright.
+
+Jack gazed at her in wonderment:
+
+"Yes--of course he did and--Why, Miss Ruth!--Why, what's the matter!
+Have I said anything that--"
+
+"Then something serious has happened," she interrupted in a decided
+tone. "That is always his message to me when he is in trouble. That is
+what he telegraphed me when he lost the coffer-dam in the Susquehanna.
+Oh!--he did not really tell you that, did he, Mr. Breen?" The old
+anxious note had returned--the one he had heard at the "fill."
+
+"Yes--but nothing serious HAS happened, Miss Ruth," Jack persisted, his
+voice rising in the intensity of his conviction, his earnest, truthful
+eyes fixed on hers--"nothing that will not come out all right in the
+end. Please, don't be worried, I know what I am talking about."
+
+"Oh, yes, it is serious," she rejoined with equal positiveness. "You do
+not know daddy. Nothing ever discourages him, and he meets everything
+with a smile--but he cannot stand any more losses. The explosion was bad
+enough, but if this 'fill' is to be rebuilt, I don't know what will be
+the end of it. Tell me over again, please--how did he look when he said
+it?--and give me just the very words. Oh, dear, dear daddy! What will he
+do?" The anxious note had now fallen to one of the deepest suffering.
+
+Jack repeated the message word for word, all his tenderness in his
+tones--patting her shoulder in his effort to comfort her--ending with
+a minute explanation of what Garry had told him: but Ruth would not be
+convinced.
+
+"But you don't know daddy," she kept repeating "You don't know him.
+Nobody does but me. He would not have sent that message had he not meant
+it. Listen! There he is now!" she cried, springing to her feet.
+
+She had her arms around her father's neck, her head nestling on his
+shoulder before he had fairly entered the door. "Daddy, dear, is it very
+bad?" she murmured.
+
+"Pretty bad, little girl," he answered, smoothing her cheek tenderly
+with his chilled fingers as he moved with her toward the fire, "but it
+might have been worse but for the way Breen handled the men."
+
+"And will it all have to be rebuilt?"
+
+She was glad for Jack, but it was her father who now filled her mind.
+
+"That I can't tell, Puss"--one of his pet names for her, particularly
+when she needed comforting--"but it's safe for the night, anyway."
+
+"And you have worked so hard--so hard!" Her beautiful arms, bare from
+the elbow, were still around his neck, her cheek pressed close--her
+lovely, clinging body in strong contrast to the straight, gray, forceful
+man in the wet storm-coat, who stood with arms about her while he
+caressed her head with his brown fingers.
+
+"Well, Puss, we have one consolation--it wasn't our fault--the 'fill'
+is holding splendidly although it has had a lively shaking up. The worst
+was over in ten minutes, but it was pretty rough while it lasted. I
+don't think I ever saw water come so fast. I saw you with Breen, but I
+couldn't reach you then. Look out for your dress, daughter. I'm pretty
+wet."
+
+He released her arms from his neck and walked toward the fire, stripping
+off his gray mackintosh as he moved. There he stretched his hands to the
+blaze sod went on: "As I say, the 'fill' is safe and will stay so, for
+the water is going down rapidly; dropped ten feet, Breen, since you
+left. My!--but this fire feels good! Got into something dry--did
+you, Breen? That's right. But I am not satisfied about the way the
+down-stream end of the culvert acts"--this also was addressed to
+Jack--"I am afraid some part of the arch has caved in. It will be bad if
+it has--we shall know in the morning. You weren't frightened, Puss, were
+you?"
+
+She did not answer. She had heard that cheery, optimistic note in her
+father's voice before; she knew how much of it was meant for her ears.
+None of his disasters were ever serious, to hear daddy talk--"only the
+common lot of the contracting engineer, little girl," he would say,
+kissing her good-night, while he again pored over his plans, sometimes
+until daylight.
+
+She crept up to him the closer and nestled her fingers inside his
+collar--an old caress of hers when she was a child, then looking up into
+his eyes she asked with almost a throb of suffering in her voice, "Is it
+as bad as the coffer-dam, daddy?"
+
+Jack looked on in silence. He dared not add a word of comfort of his own
+while his Chief held first place in soothing her fears.
+
+MacFarlane passed his hand over her forehead--"Don't ask me, child! Why
+do you want to bother your dear head over such things, Puss?" he asked,
+as he stroked her hair.
+
+"Because I must and will know. Tell me the truth," she demanded, lifting
+her head, a note of resolve in her voice. "I can help you the
+better if I know it all." Some of the blood of one of her
+great-great-grandmothers, who had helped defend a log-house in Indian
+times, was asserting itself. She could weep, but she could fight, too,
+if necessary.
+
+"Well, then, I'm afraid it is worse than the coffer-dam," he answered
+in all seriousness. "It may be a matter of twelve or fifteen thousand
+dollars--maybe more, if we have to rebuild the 'fill.' I can't tell
+yet."
+
+Ruth released her grasp, moved to the sofa and sank down, her chin
+resting on her hand. Twelve or fifteen thousand dollars! This meant
+ruin to everybody--to her father, to--a new terror now flashed into
+her mind--to Jack--yes, Jack! Jack would have to go away and find other
+work--and just at the time, too, when he was getting to be the old Jack
+once more. With this came another thought, followed by an instantaneous
+decision--what could she do to help? Already she had determined on her
+course. She would work--support herself--relieve her father just that
+much.
+
+An uncomfortable silence followed. For some moments no one spoke. Her
+father, stifling a sigh, turned slowly, pushed a chair to the fire and
+settled into it, his rubber-encased knees wide apart, so that the warmth
+of the blaze could reach most of his body. Jack found a seat beside him,
+his mind on Ruth and her evident suffering, his ears alert for any fresh
+word from his Chief.
+
+"I forgot to tell you, Breen," MacFarlane said at last, "that I came up
+the track just now as far as the round-house with the General Manager of
+the Road. He has sent one of his engineers to look after that Irishman's
+job before he can pull it to pieces to hide his rotten work--that is,
+what is left of it. Of course it means a lawsuit or a fight in the
+Village Council. That takes time and money, and generally costs more
+than you get. I've been there before, Breen, and know."
+
+"Does he understand about McGowan's contract?" inquired Jack
+mechanically, his eyes on Ruth. Her voice still rang in his ears--its
+pathos and suffering stirred him to his very depths.
+
+"Yes--I told him all about it," MacFarlane replied. "The Road will stand
+behind us--so the General Manager says--but every day's delay is ruinous
+to them. It will be night-and-day work for us now, and no let-up. I have
+notified the men." He rose from his seat and crossed to his daughter's
+side, and leaning over, drew her toward him: "Brace up, little girl,"
+there was infinite tenderness in his cadences--"it's all in a lifetime.
+There are only two of us, you know--just you and me, daughter--just you
+and me--just two of us. Kiss me, Puss."
+
+Regaining his full height he picked up his storm-coat from the chair
+where he had flung it, and with the remark to Jack, that he would change
+his clothes, moved toward the door. There he beckoned to him, waited
+until he had reached his side, and whispering in his ear: "Talk to her
+and cheer her up, Breen. Poor little girl--she worries so when anything
+like this happens"--mounted the stairs to his room.
+
+"Don't worry, Miss Ruth," said Jack in comforting tones as he returned
+to where she sat. "We will all pull out yet."
+
+"It is good of you to say so," she replied, lifting her head and leaning
+back so that she could look into his eyes the better, "but I know
+you don't think so. Daddy was just getting over his losses on the
+Susquehanna bridge. This work would have set him on his feet. Those were
+his very words--and he was getting so easy in his mind, too--and we had
+planned so many things!"
+
+"But you can still go to Newport," Jack pleaded. "We will be here some
+months yet, and--"
+
+"Oh--but I won't go a step anywhere. I could not leave him now--that is,
+not as long as I can help him."
+
+"But aren't you going to the Fosters' and Aunt Felicia's?" She might not
+be, but it was good all the same to hear her deny it.
+
+"Not to anybody's!" she replied, with an emphasis that left no doubt in
+his mind.
+
+Jack's heart gave a bound.
+
+"But you were going if we went to Morfordsburg," he persisted. He was
+determined to get at the bottom of all his misgivings. Perhaps, after
+all, Peter was right.
+
+Ruth caught her breath. The name of the town had reopened a vista which
+her anxiety over her father's affairs had for the moment shut out.
+
+"Well, but that is over now. I am going to stay here and help daddy."
+Again the new fear tugged at her heart. "You are going to stay, too,
+aren't you, Mr. Breen?" she added in quick alarm. "You won't leave him,
+will you?--not if--" again the terrible money loss rose before her. What
+if there should not be money enough to pay Jack?
+
+"Me! Why, Miss Ruth!"
+
+"But suppose he was not able to--" she could not frame the rest of the
+sentence.
+
+"You can't suppose anything that would make me leave him, or the work."
+This also came with an emphasis of positive certainty. "I have never
+been so happy as I have been here. I never knew what it was to be
+myself. I never knew," he added in softened tones, "what it was to
+really live until I joined your father. Only last night Uncle Peter and
+I were talking about it. 'Stick to Mac,' the dear old fellow said." It
+was to Ruth, but he dared not express himself, except in parables. "Then
+you HAD thought of going?" she asked quickly, a shadow falling across
+her face.
+
+"No--" he hesitated--"I had only thought of STAYING. It was you who were
+going--I was all broken up about being left here alone, and Uncle Peter
+wanted to know why I did not beg you to stay, and I--"
+
+Ruth turned her face toward him.
+
+"Well, I am going to stay," she answered simply. She did not dare to
+trust herself further.
+
+"Yes!--and now I don't care what happens!" he exclaimed with a thrill
+in his voice. "If you will only trust me, Miss Ruth, and let me come in
+with you and your father. Let me help! Don't let there be only two--let
+us be three! Don't you see what a difference it would make? I will work
+and save every penny I can for him and take every bit of the care from
+his shoulders; but can't you understand how much easier it would be if
+you would only let me help you too? I could hardly keep the tears back
+a moment ago when I saw you sink down here. I can't see you unhappy like
+this and not try to comfort you."
+
+"You do help me," she murmured softly. Her eyes had now dropped to the
+cushion at her side.
+
+"Yes, but not--Oh, Ruth, don't you see how I love you! What difference
+does this accident make--what difference does anything make if we have
+each other?" He had his hand on hers now, and was bending over, his eyes
+eager for some answer in her own. "I have suffered so," he went on, "and
+I am so tired and so lonely without you. When you wouldn't understand me
+that time when I came to you after the tunnel blew up, I went about like
+one in a dream--and then I determined to forget it all, and you, and
+everything--but I couldn't, and I can't now. Maybe you won't listen--but
+please--"
+
+Ruth withdrew her hand quickly and straightened her shoulders. The
+mention of the tunnel and what followed had brought with it a rush of
+memories that had caused her the bitterest tears of her life. And then
+again what did he mean by "helping"?
+
+"Jack," she said slowly, as if every word gave her pain, "listen to
+me. When you saved my father's life and I wanted to tell you how much I
+thanked you for it, you would not let me tell you. Is not that true?"
+
+"I did not want your gratitude, Ruth," he pleaded in excuse, his lips
+quivering, "I wanted your love."
+
+"And why, then, should I not say to you now that I do not want your
+pity? Is it because you are--" her voice sank to a whisper, every note
+told of her suffering--"you are--sorry for me, Jack, that you tell me
+you love me?"
+
+Jack sprang to his feet and stood looking down upon her. The cruelty of
+her injustice smote his heart. Had a man's glove been dashed in his face
+he could not have been more incensed. For a brief moment there surged
+through him all he had suffered for her sake; the sleepless nights, the
+days of doubts and misunderstandings! And it had come to this! Again he
+was treated with contempt--again his heart and all it held was trampled
+on. A wild protest rose in his throat and trembled on his lips.
+
+At that instant she raised her eyes and looked into his. A look so
+pleading--so patient--so weary of the struggle--so ready to receive the
+blow--that the hot words recoiled in his throat. He bent his head to
+search her eyes the better. Down in their depths, as one sees the bottom
+of a clear pool he read the truth, and with it came a reaction that sent
+the hot blood rushing through his veins.
+
+"Sorry for you, my darling!" he burst out joyously--"I who love you like
+my own soul! Oh, Ruth!--Ruth!--my beloved!"
+
+He had her in his arms now, her cheek to his, her yielding body held
+close.
+
+Then their lips met.
+
+The Scribe lays down his pen. This be holy ground on which we tread. All
+she has she has given him: all the fantasies of her childhood, all the
+dreams of her girlhood, all her trust, her loyalty--her reverence--all
+to the very last pulsation of her being.
+
+And this girl he holds in his arms! So pliant, so yielding, so pure and
+undefiled! And the silken sheen and intoxicating perfume of her hair,
+and the trembling lashes shading the eager, longing, soul-hungry eyes;
+and the way the little pink ears nestle; and the fair, white, dovelike
+throat, with its ripple of lace. And then the dear arms about his neck
+and the soft clinging fingers that are intertwined with his own! And
+more wonderful still, the perfect unison, the oneness, the sameness; no
+jar, no discordant note; mind, soul, desire--a harmony.
+
+The wise men say there are no parallels in nature; that no one thing in
+the wide universe exactly mates and matches any other one thing; that
+each cloud has differed from every other cloud-form in every hour of the
+day and night, to-day, yesterday and so on back through the forgotten
+centuries; that no two leaves in form, color, or texture, lift the same
+faces to the sun on any of the million trees; that no wave on any beach
+curves and falls as any wave has curved and fallen before--not since the
+planet cooled. And so it is with the drift of wandering winds; with the
+whirl and crystals of driving snow, with the slant and splash of rain.
+And so, too, with the flight of birds; the dash and tumble of restless
+brooks; the roar of lawless thunder and the songs of birds.
+
+The one exception is when we hold in our arms the woman we love, and
+for the first time drink in her willing soul through her lips. Then,
+and only then, does the note of perfect harmony ring true through the
+spheres.
+
+For a long time they sat perfectly still. Not many words had passed, and
+these were only repetitions of those they had used before. "Such dear
+hands," Jack would say, and kiss them both up and down the fingers,
+and then press the warm, pink shell palm to his lips and kiss it again,
+shutting his eyes, with the reverence of a devotee at the feet of the
+Madonna.
+
+"And, Jack dear," Ruth would murmur, as if some new thought had welled
+up in her heart--and then nothing would follow, until Jack would loosen
+his clasp a little--just enough to free the dear cheek and say:
+
+"Go on, my darling," and then would come--
+
+"Oh, nothing, Jack--I--" and once more their lips would meet.
+
+It was only when MacFarlane's firm step was heard on the stairs outside
+that the two awoke to another world. Jack reached his feet first.
+
+"Shall we tell him?" he asked, looking down into her face.
+
+"Of course, tell him," braved out Ruth, uptilting her head with the
+movement of a fawn surprised in the forest.
+
+"When?" asked Jack, his eager eyes on the opening door.
+
+"Now, this very minute. I never keep anything from daddy."
+
+MacFarlane came sauntering in, his strong, determined, finely cut
+features illumined by a cheery smile. He had squared things with himself
+while he had been dressing: "Hard lines, Henry, isn't it?" he had asked
+of himself, a trick of his when he faced any disaster like the present.
+"Better get Ruth off somewhere, Henry, don't you think so? Yes, get her
+off to-morrow. The little girl can't stand everything, plucky as she
+is." It was this last thought of his daughter that had sent the cheery
+smile careering around his firm lips. No glum face for Ruth!
+
+They met him half-way down the room, the two standing together, Jack's
+arm around her waist.
+
+"Daddy!"
+
+"Yes, dear." He had not yet noted the position of the two, although he
+had caught the joyous tones in her voice.
+
+"Jack and I want to tell you something. You won't be cross, will you?"
+
+"Cross, Puss!" He stopped and looked at her wonderingly. Had Jack
+comforted her? Was she no longer worried over the disaster?
+
+Jack released his arm and would have stepped forward, but she held him
+back.
+
+"No, Jack,--let me tell him. You said a while ago, daddy, that there
+were only two of us--just you and I--and that it had always been so
+and--"
+
+"Well, isn't it true, little girl?" It's extraordinary how blind and
+stupid a reasonably intelligent father can be on some occasions, and
+this one was as blind as a cave-locked fish.
+
+"Yes, it WAS true, daddy, when you went upstairs, but--but--it isn't
+true any more! There are three of us now!" She was trembling all over
+with uncontrollable joy, her voice quavering in her excitement.
+
+Again Jack tried to speak, but she laid her hand on his lips with--
+
+"No, please don't, Jack--not yet--you will spoil everything."
+
+MacFarlane still looked on in wonderment. She was much happier, he could
+see, and he was convinced that Jack was in some way responsible for the
+change, but it was all a mystery yet.
+
+"Three of us!" MacFarlane repeated mechanically--"well, who is the
+other, Puss?"
+
+"Why, Jack, of course! Who else could it be but Jack? Oh!
+Daddy!--Please--please--we love each other so!"
+
+That night a telegram went singing down the wires leaving a trail of
+light behind. A sleepy, tired girl behind an iron screen recorded it
+on a slip of yellow paper, enclosed it in an envelope, handed it to a
+half-awake boy, who strolled leisurely up to Union Square, turned into
+Fifteenth Street, mounted Peter's front stoop and so on up three flights
+of stairs to Peter's door. There he awoke the echoes into life with his
+knuckles.
+
+In answer, a charming and most courtly old gentleman in an embroidered
+dressing-gown and slippers, a pair of gold spectacles pushed high up on
+his round, white head, his index finger marking the place in his book,
+opened the door.
+
+"Telegram for Mr. Grayson," yawned the boy.
+
+Ah! but there were high jinks inside the cosey red room with its low
+reading lamp and easy chairs, when Peter tore that envelope apart.
+
+"Jack--Ruth--engaged!" he cried, throwing down his book. "MacFarlane
+delighted--What!--WHAT? Oh, Jack, you rascal!--you did take my advice,
+did you? Well I--well! I'll write them both--No, I'll telegraph
+Felicia--No, I won't!--I'll--Well!--well!--WELL! Did you ever hear
+anything like that?" and again his eyes devoured the yellow slip.
+
+Not a word of the freshet; of the frightful loss; of the change of
+plans for the summer; of the weeks of delay and the uncertain financial
+outlook! And alas, dear reader--not a syllable, as you have perhaps
+noticed, of poor daddy tottering on the brink of bankruptcy; nor the
+slightest reference to brave young women going out alone in the cold,
+cold world to earn their bread! What were floods, earthquakes, cyclones,
+poverty, debt--what was anything that might, could, would or should
+happen, compared to the joy of their plighted troth!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+
+Summer has come: along the banks of the repentant stream the willows are
+in full leaf; stretches of grass, braving the coal smoke and dust hide
+the ugly red earth. The roads are dry again; the slopes of the "fill"
+once more are true; all the arches in the mouth of the tunnel are
+finished; the tracks have been laid and the first train has crawled out
+on the newly tracked road where it haggled, snorted and stopped, only to
+crawl back and be swallowed by The Beast.
+
+And with the first warm day came Miss Felicia. "When your wretched,
+abominable roads, my dear, dry up so that a body can walk without
+sinking up to their neck in mud--" ran Miss Felicia's letter in answer
+to Ruth's invitation,--"I'll come down for the night," and she did,
+bringing Ruth half of her laces, now that she was determined to throw
+herself away on "that good-for nothing--Yes, Jack, I mean you and nobody
+else, and you needn't stand there laughing at me, for every word of it's
+true; for what in the world you two babes in the wood are going to live
+on no mortal man knows;" Ruth answering with her arm tight around
+the dear lady's neck,--a liberty nobody,--not even Peter, ever dared
+take--and a whisper in her ear that Jack was the blessedest ever,
+and that she loved him so sometimes she was well-nigh distracted--a
+statement which the old lady remarked was literally true.
+
+And we may be sure that Peter came too--and we may be equally positive
+that no impassable roads could have held him back. Indeed, on the very
+afternoon of the very day following the receipt of the joyful telegram,
+he had closed his books with a bang, performed the Moses act until he
+had put them into the big safe, slipped on his coat, given an extra
+brush to his hat and started for the ferry. All that day his face had
+been in a broad smile; even the old book-keeper noticed it and so did
+Patrick, the night-watchman and sometimes porter; and so did the line
+of depositors who inched along to his window and were greeted with a
+flash-light play of humor on his face instead of the more sedate, though
+equally kindly expression which always rested on his features when
+at work. But that was nothing to the way he hugged Jack and
+Ruth--separately--together--then Ruth, then Jack--and then both together
+again, only stopping at MacFarlane, whose hand he grabbed with a "Great
+day! hey? Great day! By Cricky, Henry, these are the things that put new
+wine into old leather bottles like you and me."
+
+And this was not all that the spring and summer had brought. Fresh sap
+had risen in Jack's veins. This girl by his side was his own--something
+to work for--something to fight for. MacFarlane felt the expansion and
+put him in full charge of the work, relieving him often in the night
+shifts, when the boy would catch a few hours' sleep, and when, you may
+be sure, he stopped long enough at the house to get his arms around Ruth
+before he turned in for the night or the morning, or whenever he did
+turn in.
+
+As to the injury which McGowan's slipshod work had caused to the "fill,"
+the question of damages and responsibility for the same still hung in
+the air. The "fill" did not require rebuilding--nor did any part of the
+main work--a great relief. The loss had not, therefore, been as great as
+MacFarlane had feared. Moreover, the scour and slash of the down-stream
+slope, thanks to Jack's quick work, required but few weeks to repair;
+the culvert, contrary to everybody's expectation, standing the test, and
+the up-stream slope showing only here and there marks of the onslaught.
+The wing walls were the worst; these had to be completely rebuilt,
+involving an expense of several thousands of dollars, the exact amount
+being one point in the discussion.
+
+Garry, to his credit, had put his official foot down with so strong
+a pressure that McGowan, fearing that he would have to reconstruct
+everything from the bed of the stream up, if he held out any longer,
+agreed to arbitrate the matter, he selecting one expert and MacFarlane
+the other; and the Council--that is, Garry--the third. MacFarlane had
+chosen the engineer of the railroad who had examined McGowan's masonry
+an hour after the embankment had given way. McGowan picked out a brother
+contractor and Garry wrote a personal letter to Holker Morris, following
+it up by a personal visit to the office of the distinguished architect,
+who, when he learned that not only Garry, MacFarlane, and Jack were
+concerned in the outcome of the investigation, but also Ruth--whose
+marriage might depend on the outcome,--broke his invariable rule of
+never getting mixed up in anybody's quarrels, and accepted the position
+without a murmur.
+
+This done everybody interested sat down to await the result of the
+independent investigations of each expert, Garry receiving the reports
+in sealed envelopes and locking them in the official safe, to be opened
+in full committee at its next monthly meeting, when a final report, with
+recommendations as to liability and costs, would be drawn up; the same,
+when adopted by a majority of the Council the following week, to be
+binding.
+
+It was during this suspense--it happened really on the morning
+succeeding the one on which Garry had opened the official
+envelopes--that an envelope of quite a different character was laid on
+Jack's table by the lady with the adjustable hair, who invariably made
+herself acquainted with as much of that young gentleman's mail as could
+be gathered from square envelopes sealed in violet wax, or bearing
+family crests in low relief, or stamped with monograms in light blue
+giving out delicate perfumes, each one of which that lady sniffed
+with great satisfaction; to say nothing of business addresses and
+postal-cards,--the latter being readable, and, therefore, her delight.
+
+This envelope, however, was different from any she had ever fumbled,
+sniffed at, or pondered over. It was not only of unusual size, but it
+bore in the upper left-hand corner in bold black letters the words:
+
+ARTHUR BREEN & COMPANY, BANKERS.
+
+It was this last word which set the good woman to thinking. Epistles
+from banks were not common,--never found at all, in fact, among the
+letters of her boarders.
+
+Jack was even more astonished.
+
+"Call at the office," the letter ran, "the first time you are in New
+York,--the sooner the better. I have some information regarding the ore
+properties that may interest you."
+
+As the young fellow had not heard from his uncle in many moons, the
+surprise was all the greater. Nor, if the truth be known, had he laid
+eyes on that gentleman since he left the shelter of his home, except at
+Corinne's wedding,--and then only across the church, and again in
+the street, when his uncle stopped and shook his hand in a rather
+perfunctory way, complimenting him on his bravery in rescuing
+MacFarlane, an account of which he had seen in the newspapers, and
+ending by hoping that his new life would "drop some shekels into his
+clothes." Mrs. Breen, on the contrary, while she had had no opportunity
+of expressing her mental attitude toward the exile, never having seen
+him since he walked out of her front door, was by no means oblivious to
+Jack's social and business successes. "I hear Jack was at Mrs. Portman's
+last night," she said to her husband the morning after one of the
+ex-Clearing House Magnate's great receptions. "They say he goes
+everywhere, and that Mr. Grayson has adopted him and is going to leave
+him all his money," to which Breen had grunted back that Jack was
+welcome to the Portmans and the Portmans to Jack, and that if old
+Grayson had any money, which he very much doubted, he'd better hoist
+it overboard than give it to that rattlebrain. Mrs. Breen heaved a deep
+sigh. Neither she nor Breen had been invited to the Portmans', nor
+had Corinne (the Scribe has often wondered whether the second scoop
+in Mukton was the cause)--and yet Ruth MacFarlane, and Jack and Miss
+Felicia Grayson, and a lot more out-of-town people--so that insufferable
+Mrs. Bennett had told her--had come long distances to be present, the
+insufferable adding significantly that "Miss MacFarlane looked too
+lovely and was by all odds the prettiest girl in the room, and as for
+young Breen, really she could have fallen in love with him herself!"
+
+Jack tucked his uncle's letter in his pocket, skipped over to read it to
+Ruth and MacFarlane, in explanation of his enforced absence for the
+day, and kept on his way to the station. The missive referred to the
+Morfordsburg contract, of course, and was evidently an attempt to gain
+information regarding the proposed work, Arthur Breen & Co. being the
+financial agents of many similar properties.
+
+"I will take care of him, sir," Jack had said as he left his Chief. "My
+uncle, no doubt, means all right, and it is just as well to hear what
+he says--besides he has been good enough to write to me, and of course I
+must go, but I shall not commit myself one way or the other--" and with
+a whispered word in Ruth's ear, a kiss and a laugh, he left the house.
+
+As he turned down the short street leading to the station, he caught
+sight of Garry forging ahead on his way to the train. That rising young
+architect, chairman of the Building Committee of the Council, trustee of
+church funds, politician and all-round man of the world--most of which
+he carried in a sling--seemed in a particularly happy frame of mind
+this morning judging from the buoyancy with which he stepped. This had
+communicated itself to the gayety of his attire, for he was dressed in a
+light-gray check suit, and wore a straw hat (the first to see the light
+of summer) with a green ribbon about the crown,--together with a white
+waistcoat and white spats, the whole enriched by a red rose bud which
+Corinne had with her own hands pinned in his buttonhole.
+
+"Why, hello! Jack, old man! just the very fellow I'm looking for," cried
+the joyous traveller. "You going to New York?--So am I,--go every day
+now,--got something on ice,--the biggest thing I've ever struck. I'll
+show that uncle of yours that two can play at his game. He hasn't lifted
+his hand to help us, and I don't want him to,--Cory and I can get along;
+but you'd think he'd come out and see us once in a while, wouldn't you,
+or ask after the baby; Mrs. Breen comes, but not Breen. We live in the
+country and have tar on our heels, he thinks. Here,--sit by the window!
+Now let's talk of something else. How's Miss Ruth and the governor? He's
+a daisy;--best engineer anywhere round here. Yes, Cory's all right. Baby
+keeps her awake half the night; I've moved out and camp upstairs;
+can't stand it. Oh, by the way, I see you are about finishing up on the
+railroad work. I'll have something to say to you next week on the damage
+question. Got all the reports in last night. I tell you, my old chief,
+Mr. Morris, is a corker! What he doesn't know about masonry isn't worth
+picking up;--can't fool him! That's what's the matter with half of our
+younger men; they sharpen lead-pencils, mix ink, and think they are
+drawing; or they walk down a stone wall and don't know any more what's
+behind it and what holds it up than a child. Mr. Morris can not only
+design a wall, but he can teach some first-class mechanics how to lay
+it."
+
+Jack looked out the window and watched the fences fly past. For the
+moment he made no reply to Garry's long harangue--especially the part
+referring to the report. Anxious as he was to learn the result of the
+award, he did not want the facts from the chairman of the committee in
+advance of the confirmation by the Council.
+
+"What is it you have on ice, Garry?" he asked at last with a laugh,
+yielding to an overpowering conviction that he must change the
+subject--"a new Corn Exchange? Nobody can beat you in corn exchanges."
+
+"Not by a long shot, Jack,--got something better; I am five thousand
+ahead now, and it's all velvet."
+
+"Gold-mine, Garry?" queried Jack, turning his head. "Another Mukton
+Lode? Don't forget poor Charlie Gilbert; he's been clerking it ever
+since, I hear."
+
+"No, a big warehouse company; I'll get the buildings later on. That
+Mukton Lode deal was a clear skin game, Jack, if it is your uncle, and
+A. B. & Co. got paid up for it--downtown and uptown. You ought to hear
+the boys at the Magnolia talk about it. My scheme is not that kind;
+I'm on the ground floor; got some of the promoter's stock. When you are
+through with your railroad contract and get your money, let me know.
+I can show you a thing or two;--open your eyes! No Wall Street racket,
+remember,--just a plain business deal."
+
+"There won't be much money left over, Garry, from the 'fill' and tunnel
+work, if we keep on. We ought to have a cyclone next to finish up with;
+we've had about everything else."
+
+"You're all through, Jack," replied Garry with emphasis.
+
+"I'll believe that when I see it," said Jack with a smile.
+
+"I tell you, Jack, YOU ARE ALL THROUGH. Do you understand? Don't ask
+me any questions and I won't tell you any lies. The first thing that
+strikes you will be a check, and don't you forget it!"
+
+Jack's heart gave a bound. The information had come as a surprise and
+without his aid, and yet it was none the less welcome. The dreaded
+anxiety was over; he knew now what the verdict of the Council would
+be. He had been right from the first in this matter, and Garry had
+not failed despite the strong political pressure which must have been
+brought against him. The new work now would go on and he and Ruth could
+go to Morfordsburg together! He could already see her trim, lovely
+figure in silhouette against the morning light, her eyes dancing, her
+face aglow in the crisp air of the hills.
+
+Garry continued to talk on as they sped into the city, elaborating the
+details of the warehouse venture in which he had invested his present
+and some of his future commissions, but his words fell on stony ground.
+The expected check was the only thing that filled Jack's thoughts. There
+was no doubt in his mind now that the decision would be in MacFarlane's
+favor, and that the sum, whether large or small, would be paid without
+delay,--Garry being treasurer and a large amount of money being still
+due McGowan on the embankment and boulevard. It would be joyous news to
+Ruth, he said to himself, with a thrill surging through his heart.
+
+Jack left Garry on the Jersey side and crossed alone. The boy loved
+the salt air in his face and the jewelled lights flashed from the
+ever-restless sea. He loved, too, the dash and vim of it all. Forcing
+his way through the crowds of passengers to the forward part of the
+boat, he stood where he could get the full sweep of the wonderful
+panorama:
+
+The jagged purple line of the vast city stretching as far as the eye
+could reach; with its flat-top, square-sided, boxlike buildings, with
+here and there a structure taller than the others; the flash of light
+from Trinity's spire, its cross aflame; the awkward, crab-like movements
+of innumerable ferry-boats, their gaping alligator mouths filled with
+human flies; the impudent, nervous little tugs, spitting steam in every
+passing face; the long strings of sausage-linked canalers kept together
+by grunting, slow-moving tows; the great floating track-yards bearing
+ponderous cars--eight days from the Pacific without break of bulk; the
+skinny, far-reaching fingers of innumerable docks clutching prey
+of barge, steamer, and ship; the stately ocean-liner moving to sea,
+scattering water-bugs of boats, scows and barges as it glided on its
+way:--all this stirred his imagination and filled him with a strange
+resolve. He, too, would win a place among the masses--Ruth's hand fast
+in his.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+
+When Jack, in reply to Breen's note, stepped into his uncle's office, no
+one would have recognized in the quick, alert, bronze-faced young fellow
+the retiring, almost timid, boy who once peered out of the port-hole of
+the cashier's desk. Nor did Jack's eyes fall on any human being he had
+ever seen before. New occupants filled the chairs about the ticker. A
+few lucky ones--very few--had pulled out and stayed out, and could now
+be found at their country seats in various parts of the State, or on the
+Riviera, or in Egypt; but by far the larger part had crawled out of the
+fight to nurse their wounds within the privacy of their own homes where
+the outward show had to be kept up no matter how stringent the inside
+economies, or how severe the privations. Others, less fortunate, had
+disappeared altogether from their accustomed haunts and were to be found
+filling minor positions in some far Western frontier town or camp, or
+menial berths on a railroad, while at least one victim, too cowardly
+to leave the field, had haunted the lunch counters, hotel lobbies, and
+race-tracks for months, preying on friends and acquaintances alike until
+dire poverty forced him into crime, and a stone cell and a steel grille
+had ended the struggle.
+
+Failing to find any face he recognized, Jack approached a group around
+the ticker, and inquired for the head of the firm. The answer came from
+a red-cheeked, clean-shaven, bullet-headed, immaculately upholstered
+gentleman--(silk scarf, diamond horse-shoe stick-pin, high collar,
+cut-away coat, speckled-trout waistcoat--everything perfect)--who stood,
+paring his nails in front of the plate-glass window overlooking the
+street, and who conveyed news of the elder Breen's whereabouts by a bob
+of his head and a jerk of his fat forefinger in the direction of the
+familiar glass door.
+
+Breen sat at his desk when Jack entered, but it was only when he spoke
+that his uncle looked up;--so many men swung back that door with favors
+to ask, that spontaneous affability was often bad policy.
+
+"I received your letter, Uncle Arthur," Jack began.
+
+Breen raised his eyes, and a deep color suffused his face. In his heart
+he had a sneaking admiration for the boy. He liked his pluck. Strange,
+too, he liked him the better for having left him and striking out for
+himself, and stranger still, he was a little ashamed for having brought
+about the revolt.
+
+"Why, Jack!" He was on his feet now, his hand extended, something of his
+old-time cordiality in his manner. "You got my letter, did you? Well, I
+wanted to talk to you about that ore property. You own it still, don't
+you?" The habit of his life of going straight at the business in hand,
+precluded every other topic. Then again he wanted a chance to look the
+boy over under fire,--"size him up," in his own vocabulary. He might
+need his help later on.
+
+"Oh, we don't own a foot of it,--don't want to. If Mr. MacFarlane
+decides to--"
+
+"I'm not talking about MacFarlane's job; I'm talking about your own
+property,--the Cumberland ore property,--the one your father left you.
+You haven't sold it, have you?" This came in an anxious tone.
+
+"No," answered Jack simply, wondering what his father's legacy had to do
+with his Chief's proposed work.
+
+"Have you paid the taxes?" Arthur's eyes were now boring into his.
+
+"Yes, every year; they were not much. Why do you ask?"
+
+"I'll tell you that later on," answered his uncle with a more satisfied
+air. "You were up there with MacFarlane, weren't you?--when he went to
+look over the ground of the Maryland Mining Company where he is to cut
+the horizontal shaft?" Jack nodded. "So I heard. Well, it may interest
+you to learn that some of our Mukton people own the property. It was I
+who sent MacFarlane up, really, although he may not know it."
+
+"That was very kind of you, sir," rejoined Jack, without a trace of
+either gratitude or surprise.
+
+"Well, I'm glad you think so. Some of our directors also own a block of
+that new road MacFarlane is finishing. They wouldn't hire anybody else
+after they had gone up to Corklesville and had seen how he did his work,
+so I had the secretary of the company write MacFarlane, and that's how
+it came about."
+
+Jack nodded and waited; his uncle's drift was not yet apparent.
+
+"Well, what I wanted to see you about, Jack, is this:" here he settled
+his fat back into the chair. "All the ore in that section of the
+county,--so our experts say, dips to the east. They've located the vein
+and they think a horizontal shaft and gravity will get the stuff to
+tide water much cheaper than a vertical shaft and hoist. Now if the
+ore should peter out--and the devil himself can't tell always about
+that--we've got to get some ore somewhere round there to brace up and
+make good our prospectus, even if it does cost a little more, and that's
+where your Cumberland property might come in,--see? One of our lawyers
+looked over a record of your deed in the town hall of Mulford--" here
+he bent forward and consulted a paper on his desk--"No,--that's not
+it,--Morfordsburg,--yes, that's it,--Morfordsburg,--looked up the deed,
+I say, Jack, and from what he says I don't believe your property is
+more than a quarter of a mile, as the crow flies, from where they want
+MacFarlane to begin cutting. If the lawyer's right there may be a few
+dollars in it for you--not much, but something; and if there is,--of
+course, I don't want to commit myself, and I don't want to encourage you
+too much--but if he's right I should advise your bringing me what papers
+you've got and have our attorney look them over, and if everything's
+O.K. in the title, your property might be turned over to the new company
+and form part of the deal. You can understand, of course, that we don't
+want any other deposits in that section but our own."
+
+Breen's meaning was clear now. So was the purpose of the letter.
+
+Jack leaned back in his chair, an expression first of triumph and then
+of disgust crossing his face. That his uncle should actually want him
+back in his business in any capacity was as complimentary as it was
+unexpected. That the basis of the copartnership--and it was this that
+brought the curl to his lip--was such that neither a quarter of a mile
+nor two miles would stand in the way of a connecting vein of ore on
+paper, was to be expected by any one at all familiar with his uncle's
+methods.
+
+"Thank you, Uncle Arthur," he answered simply, "but there's nothing
+decided yet about the Morfordsburg work. I heard a bit of news coming
+down on the train this morning that may cause Mr. MacFarlane to look
+upon the proposed work more favorably, but that is for him to say. As
+to my own property, when I am there again, if I do go,--I will look
+over the ground myself and have Mr. MacFarlane go with me and then I can
+decide."
+
+Breen knitted his brows. It was not the answer he had expected. In fact,
+he was very much astonished both at the reply and the way in which it
+was given. He began to be sorry he had raised the question at all. He
+would gladly have helped Jack in getting a good price for his property,
+provided it did not interfere with his own plans, but to educate him up
+to the position of an obstructionist, was quite another matter.
+
+"Well, think it over," he replied in a tone that was meant to show his
+entire indifference to the whole affair,--"and some time when you are in
+town drop in again. And now tell me about Ruth, as we must call her,
+I suppose. Your aunt just missed her at the Cosgroves' the other day."
+Then came a short disquisition on Garry and Corinne and their life at
+Elm Crest, followed by an embarrassing pause, during which the head of
+the house of Breen lowered the flow line on a black bottle which he took
+from a closet behind his desk,--"his digestion being a little out that
+morning," he explained. And so with renewed thanks for the interest he
+had taken in his behalf, and with his whole mind now concentrated on
+Peter and the unspeakable happiness in store for him when he poured
+into the old gentleman's willing and astonished ears the details of the
+interview, Mr. John Breen, Henry MacFarlane's Chief Assistant in Charge
+of Outside Work, bowed himself out.
+
+He had not long to wait.
+
+Indeed, that delightful old gentleman had but a short time before called
+to a second old gentleman, a more or less delightful fossil in black wig
+and spectacles, to take his place at the teller's window, and the first
+delightful old gentleman was at the precise moment standing on the top
+step of the Exeter, overlooking the street, where he had caught sight of
+Jack wending his way toward him.
+
+"Jack! JACK!" Peter cried, waving his hand at the boy.
+
+"Oh! that's you, Uncle Peter, is it? Shall I--?"
+
+"No, Jack, stay where you are until I come to you."
+
+"And where are you going now?" burst out Jack, overjoyed at reaching his
+side.
+
+"To luncheon, my dear boy! We'll go to Favre's, and have a stuffed
+pepper and a plate of spaghetti an inch deep, after my own
+receipt. Botti cooks it deliciously;--and a bottle of red wine, my
+boy,--WINE,--not logwood and vinegar. No standing up at a trough, or
+sitting on a high stool, or wandering about with a sandwich between your
+fingers,--ruining your table manners and your digestion. And now tell
+me about dear Ruth, and what she says about coming down to dinner next
+week?"
+
+It was wonderful how young he looked, and how happy he was, and how spry
+his step, as the two turned into William Street and so on to the cheap
+little French restaurant with its sanded floor, little tables for two
+and four, with their tiny pots of mustard and flagons of oil and
+red vinegar,--this last, the "left-overs" of countless bottles of
+Bordeaux,--to say nothing of the great piles of French bread weighing
+down a shelf beside the proprietor's desk, racked up like cordwood, and
+all of the same color, length, and thickness.
+
+Every foot of the way through the room toward his own table--his for
+years, and which was placed in the far corner overlooking the doleful
+little garden with its half-starved vine and hanging baskets--Peter had
+been obliged to speak to everybody he passed (some of the younger men
+rose to their feet to shake his hand)--until he reached the proprietor
+and gave his order.
+
+Auguste, plump and oily, his napkin over his arm, drew out his chair (it
+was always tipped back in reserve until he arrived), laid another plate
+and accessories for his guest, and then bent his head in attention until
+Peter indicated the particular brand of Bordeaux--the color of the wax
+sealing its top was the only label--with which he proposed to entertain
+his friend.
+
+All this time Jack had been on the point of bursting. Once he had
+slipped his hand into his pocket for Breen's letter, in the belief that
+the best way to get the most enjoyment out of the incident of his visit
+and the result,--for it was still a joke to Jack,--would be to lay the
+half sheet on Peter's plate and watch the old fellow's face as he read
+it. Then he decided to lead gradually up to it, concealing the best
+part of the story--the prospectus and how it was to be braced--until the
+last.
+
+But the boy could not wait; so, after he had told Peter about
+Ruth,--and that took ten minutes, try as hard as he could to shorten the
+telling,--during which the stuffed peppers were in evidence,--and after
+Peter had replied with certain messages to Ruth,--during which the
+spaghetti was served sizzling hot, with entrancing frazzlings of brown
+cheese clinging to the edges of the tin plate--the Chief Assistant
+squared his elbows and plunged head-foremost into the subject.
+
+"And now, I have got a surprise for you, Uncle Peter," cried Jack,
+smothering his eagerness as best he could.
+
+The old fellow held up his hand, reached for the shabby, dust-begrimed
+bottle, that had been sound asleep under the sidewalk for years; filled
+Jack's glass, then his own; settled himself in his chair and said with a
+dry smile:
+
+"If it's something startling, Jack, wait until we drink this," and he
+lifted the slender rim to his lips. "If it's something delightful, you
+can spring it now."
+
+"It is both," answered Jack. "Listen and doubt your ears. I had a letter
+from Uncle Arthur this morning asking me to come and see him about my
+Cumberland ore property, and I have just spent an hour with him."
+
+Peter put down his glass:
+
+"You had a letter from Arthur Breen--about--what do you mean, Jack."
+
+"Just what I say."
+
+Peter moved close to the table, and looked at the boy in wonderment.
+
+"Well, what did he want?" He was all attention now. Arthur Breen sending
+for Jack!--and after all that had happened! Well--well!
+
+"Wants me to put the Cumberland ore property father left me into one of
+his companies."
+
+"That fox!" The explosion cleared the atmosphere for an instant.
+
+"That fox!" answered Jack, in a confirmatory tone; and then followed an
+account of the interview, the boy chuckling at the end of every sentence
+in his delight over the situation.
+
+"And what are YOU going to do?" asked Peter in an undecided tone. He had
+heard nothing so comical as this for years.
+
+"Going to do nothing,--that is, nothing with Uncle Arthur. In the first
+place, the property is worthless, unless half a million of money is
+spent upon it."
+
+"Or is SAID to have been spent upon it," rejoined Peter with a smile,
+remembering the Breen methods.
+
+"Exactly so;--and in the second place, I would rather tear up the deed
+than have it added to Uncle Arthur's stock of balloons."
+
+Peter drummed on the table-cloth and looked out of the window. The boy
+was right in principle, but then the property might not be a balloon at
+all; might in fact be worth a great deal more than the boy dreamed of.
+That Arthur Breen had gone out of his way to send for Jack--knowing,
+as Peter did, how systematically both he and his wife had abused and
+ridiculed him whenever his name was mentioned--was positive evidence
+to Peter's mind not only that the property had a value of some kind but
+that the discovery was of recent origin.
+
+"Would you know yourself, Jack, what the property was worth,--that is,
+do you feel yourself competent to pass upon its value?" asked Peter,
+lifting his glass to his lips. He was getting back to his normal
+condition now.
+
+"Yes, to a certain extent, and if I fail, Mr. MacFarlane will help me
+out. He was superintendent of the Rockford Mines for five years. He
+received his early training there,--but there is no use talking about
+it, Uncle Peter. I only told you to let you see how the same old thing
+is going on day after day at Uncle Arthur's. If it isn't Mukton, it's
+Ginsing, or Black Royal, or some other gas bag."
+
+"What did you tell him?"
+
+"Nothing,--not in all the hour I talked with him. He did the talking; I
+did the listening."
+
+"I hope you were courteous to him, my boy?"
+
+"I was,--particularly so."
+
+"He wants your property, does he?" ruminated Peter, rolling a crumb of
+bread between his thumb and forefinger. "I wonder what's up? He has made
+some bad breaks lately and there were ugly rumors about the house for
+a time. He has withdrawn his account from the Exeter and so I've lost
+sight of all of his transactions." Here a new idea seemed to strike him:
+"Did he seem very anxious about getting hold of the land?"
+
+A queer smile played about Jack's lips:
+
+"He seemed NOT to be, but he was"
+
+"You're sure?"
+
+"Very sure; and so would you be if you knew him as well as I do. I have
+heard him talk that way to dozens of men and then brag how he'd 'covered
+his tracks,' as he used to call it."
+
+"Then, Jack," exclaimed Peter in a decided tone, "there is something
+in it. What it is you will find out before many weeks, but something. I
+will wager you he has not only had your title searched but has had test
+holes driven all over your land. These fellows stop at nothing. Let him
+alone for a while and keep him guessing. When he writes to you again to
+come and see him, answer that you are too busy, and if he adds a word
+about the ore beds tell him you have withdrawn them from the market.
+In the meantime I will have a talk with one of our directors who has
+an interest, so he told me, in a new steel company up in the Cumberland
+Mountains, somewhere near your property, I believe. He may know
+something of what's going on, if anything is going on."
+
+Jack's eyes blazed. Something going on! Suppose that after all he and
+Ruth would not have to wait. Peter read his thoughts and laid his hand
+on Jack's wrist:
+
+"Keep your toes on the earth, my boy:--no balloon ascensions and no
+bubbles,--none of your own blowing. They are bad things to have burst in
+your hands--four hands now, remember, with Ruth's. If there's any money
+in your Cumberland ore bank, it will come to light without your help.
+Keep still and say nothing, and don't you sign your name to a piece of
+paper as big as a postage stamp until you let me see it."
+
+Here Peter looked at his watch and rose from the table.
+
+"Time's up, my boy. I never allow myself but an hour at luncheon, and
+I am due at the bank in ten minutes. Thank you, Auguste,--and Auguste!
+please tell Botti the spaghetti was delicious. Come, Jack."
+
+It was when he held Ruth in his arms that same afternoon--behind the
+door, really,--she couldn't wait until they reached the room,--that
+Jack whispered in her astonished and delighted ears the good news of the
+expected check from Garry's committee.
+
+"And daddy won't lose anything; and he can take the new work!" she
+cried joyously. "And we can all go up to the mountains together! Oh,
+Jack!--let me run and tell daddy!"
+
+"No, my darling,--not a word, Garry had no business to tell me what he
+did; and it might leak out and get him into trouble:--No, don't say a
+word. It is only a few days off. We shall all know next week."
+
+He had led her to the sofa, their favorite seat.
+
+"And now I am going to tell you something that would be a million times
+better than Garry's check if it were only true,--but it isn't."
+
+"Tell me, Jack,--quick!" Her lips were close to his.
+
+"Uncle Arthur wants to buy my ore lands."
+
+"Buy your--And we are going to be--married right away! Oh, you darling
+Jack!"
+
+"Wait,--wait, my precious, until I tell you!" She did not wait, and he
+did not want her to. Only when he could loosen her arms from his neck
+did he find her ear again, then he poured into it the rest of the story.
+
+"But, oh, Jack!--wouldn't it be lovely if it were true,--and just think
+of all the things we could do."
+
+"Yes,--but it Isn't true."
+
+"But just suppose it WAS, Jack! You would have a horse of your own and
+we'd build the dearest little home and--"
+
+"But it never can be true, blessed,--not out of the Cumberland
+property--" protested Jack.
+
+"But, Jack! Can't we SUPPOSE? Why, supposing is the best fun in the
+world. I used to suppose all sorts of things when I was a little girl.
+Some of them came true, and some of them didn't, but I had just as much
+fun as if they HAD all come true."
+
+"Did you ever suppose ME?" asked Jack. He knew she never had,--he wasn't
+worth it;--but what difference did it make what they talked about!
+
+"Yes,--a thousand times. I always knew, my blessed, that there was
+somebody like you in the world somewhere,--and when the girls would
+break out and say ugly things of men,--all men,--I just knew they were
+not true of everybody. I knew that you would come--and that I should
+always look for you until I found you! And now tell me! Did you suppose
+about me, too, you darling Jack?"
+
+"No,--never. There couldn't be any supposing;--there isn't any now. It's
+just you I love, Ruth,--you,--and I love the 'YOU' in you--That's the
+best part of you."
+
+And so they talked on, she close in his arms, their cheeks together;
+building castles of rose marble and ivory, laying out gardens with
+vistas ending in summer sunsets; dreaming dreams that lovers only dream.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+
+The check "struck" MacFarlane just as the chairman had said it would,
+wiping out his losses by the flood with something ahead for his next
+undertaking.
+
+That the verdict was a just one was apparent from the reports of both
+McGowan's and the Railroad Company's experts. These showed that the
+McGowan mortar held but little cement, and that not of the best; that
+the backing of the masonry was composed of loose rubble instead of split
+stone, and that the collapse of his structure was not caused by the
+downpour, but by the caving in of culverts and spillways, which
+were built of materials in direct violation of the provisions of the
+contract. Even then there might have been some doubt as to the outcome
+but for Holker Morris's testimony. He not only sent in his report, but
+appeared himself, he told the Council, so as to answer any questions Mr.
+McGowan or his friends might ask. He had done this, as he said openly at
+the meeting, to aid his personal friend, Mr. MacFarlane, and also that
+he might raise his voice against the slipshod work that was being done
+by men who either did not know their business or purposely evaded their
+responsibilities. "This construction of McGowan's," he continued, "is
+especially to be condemned, as there is not the slightest doubt that the
+contractor has intentionally slighted his work--a neglect which, but
+for the thorough manner in which MacFarlane had constructed the lower
+culvert, might have resulted in the loss of many lives."
+
+McGowan snarled and sputtered, denouncing Garry and his "swallow-tails"
+in the bar rooms and at the board meetings, but the decision was
+unanimous, two of his friends concurring, fearing, as they explained
+afterward, that the "New York crowd" might claim even a larger sum in a
+suit for damages.
+
+The meeting over, Morris and Jack dined with MacFarlane and again
+the distinguished architect won Ruth's heart by the charm of his
+personality, she telling Jack the next day that he was the only OLD
+MAN--fifty was old for Ruth--she had ever seen with whom she could have
+fallen in love, and that she was not sure after all but that Jack
+was too young for her, at which there was a great scrimmage and a
+blind-man's-buff chase around the table, up the front stairs and into
+the corner by the window, where she was finally caught, smothered in
+kisses and made to correct her arithmetic.
+
+This ghost of damages having been laid--it was buried the week after
+Jack had called on his uncle--the Chief, the First Assistant, and
+Bangs, the head foreman, disappeared from Corklesville and reappeared at
+Morfordsburg.
+
+The Chief came to select a site for the entrance of the shaft; the First
+Assistant came to compare certain maps and documents, which he had taken
+from the trunk he had brought with him from his Maryland home, with the
+archives resting in the queer old courthouse; while Foreman Bangs was to
+help with the level and target, should a survey be found necessary.
+
+The faded-out old town clerk looked Jack all over when he asked to see
+the duplicate of a certain deed, remarking, as he led the way to the
+Hall of Records,--it was under a table in the back room,--"Reckon
+there's somethin' goin' on jedgin' from the way you New Yorkers is
+lookin' into ore lands up here. There come a lawyer only last month from
+a man named Breen, huntin' up this same property."
+
+The comparisons over and found to be correct, "starting from a certain
+stone marked 'B' one hundred and eighty-seven feet East by South," etc.,
+etc., the whole party, including a small boy to help carry the level
+and target and a reliable citizen who said he could find the property
+blindfold--and who finally collapsed with a "Goll darn!--if I know where
+I'm at!"--the five jumped onto a mud-encrusted vehicle and started for
+the site.
+
+Up hill and down hill, across one stream and then another; through
+the dense timber and into the open again. Here their work began, Jack
+handling the level (his Chief had taught him), Bangs holding the target,
+MacFarlane taking a squint now and then so as to be sure,--and then the
+final result,--to wit:--First, that the Maryland Company's property,
+Arthur Breen & Co., agents, lay under a hill some two miles from
+Morfordsburg; that Jack's lay some miles to the south of Breen's.
+Second, that outcroppings showed the Maryland Mining Company's ore
+dipped, as the Senior Breen had said, to the east, and third, that
+similar outcroppings showed Jack's dipped to the west.
+
+And so the airy bubble filled with his own and Ruth's iridescent
+hopes,--a bubble which had floated before him as he tramped through the
+cool woods, and out upon the hillside, vanished into thin air.
+
+For with Ruth's arms around him, her lips close to his, her boundless
+enthusiasm filling his soul, the boy's emotions had for the time
+overcome his judgment. So much so that all the way up in the train he
+had been "supposing" and resupposing. Even the reply of the town clerk
+had set his heart to thumping; his uncle had sent some one then! Then
+came the thought,--Yes, to boom one of his misleading prospectuses--and
+for a time the pounding had ceased: by no possible combination now,
+either honest or dishonest, could the two properties be considered one
+and the same mine.
+
+Again his thoughts went back to Ruth. He knew how keenly she would be
+disappointed. She had made him promise to telegraph her at once if his
+own and her father's inspection of the ore lands should hold out any
+rose-colored prospects for the future. This he had not now the heart to
+do. One thing, however, he must do, and at once, and that was to write
+to Peter, or see him immediately on his return. There was no use now
+of the old fellow talking the matter over with the director; there was
+nothing to talk over, except a bare hill three miles from anywhere,
+covering a possible deposit of doubtful richness and which, whether good
+or bad, would cost more to get to market than it was worth.
+
+They were on the extreme edge of the forest when the final decision was
+reached, MacFarlane leaning against a rock, the level and tripod tilted
+against his arm, Jack sitting on a fallen tree, the map spread out on
+his knees.
+
+For some minutes Jack sat silent, his eyes roaming over the landscape.
+Below him stretched an undulating mantle of velvet, laid loosely over
+valley, ravine and hill, embroidered in tints of corn-yellow, purplings
+of full-blossomed clover and the softer greens of meadow and swamp. In
+and out, now straight, now in curves and bows, was threaded a ribbon
+of silver, with here and there a connecting mirror in which flashed the
+sun. Bordering its furthermost edge a chain of mountains lost themselves
+in low, rolling clouds, while here and there, in its many crumplings,
+were studded jewels of barn stack and house, their facets aflame in the
+morning light.
+
+Jack absorbed it all, its beauty filling his soul, the sunshine bathing
+his cheeks. Soon all trace of his disappointment vanished: with Ruth
+here,--with his work to occupy him,--and this mighty, all-inspiring,
+all-intoxicating sweep of loveliness spread out, his own and Ruth's
+every hour of the day and night, what did ore beds or anything else
+matter?
+
+MacFarlane's voice woke him to consciousness. He had called to him
+before, but the boy had not heard.
+
+"As I have just remarked, Jack," MacFarlane began again, "there is
+nothing but an earthquake will make your property of any use. It is a
+low-grade ore, I should say, and tunnelling and shoring would eat it up.
+Wipe it off the books. There are thousands of acres of this kind of land
+lying around loose from here to the Cumberland Valley. It may get better
+as you go down--only an assay can tell about that--but I don't think
+it will. To begin sinking shafts might mean sinking one or a dozen; and
+there's nothing so expensive. I am sorry, Jack, but wipe it out. Some
+bright scoundrel might sell stock on it, but they'll never melt any of
+it up into stove plate."
+
+"All right, sir," Jack said at last, with a light laugh. "It is the same
+old piece of bread, I reckon, and it has fallen on the same old buttered
+side. Uncle Peter told me to beware of bubbles--said they were hard
+to carry around. This one has burst before I got my hand on it. All
+right--let her go! I hope Ruth won't take it too much to heart. Here,
+boy, get hold of this map and put it with the other traps in the wagon.
+And now, Mr. MacFarlane, what comes next?"
+
+Before the day was over MacFarlane had perfected his plans. The town was
+to be avoided as too demoralizing a shelter for the men, and barracks
+were to be erected in which to house them. Locations of the principal
+derricks were selected and staked, as well as the sites for the entrance
+to the shaft, for the machine and blacksmith's shops and for a storage
+shanty for tools: the Maryland Mining Company's work would require
+at least two years to complete, and a rational, well-studied plan of
+procedure was imperative.
+
+"And now, Jack, where are you going to live,--in the village?" asked his
+Chief, resting the level and tripod carefully against a tree trunk and
+seating himself beside Jack on a fallen log.
+
+"Out here, if you don't mind, sir, where I can be on top of the work all
+the time. It's but a short ride for Ruth and she can come and go all the
+time. I am going to drop some of these trees; get two or three choppers
+from the village and knock up a log-house like the one I camped in when
+I was a boy."
+
+"Where will you put it?" asked MacFarlane with a smile, as he turned
+his head as if in search of a site. It was just where he wanted Jack to
+live, but he would not have suggested it.
+
+"Not a hundred yards from where we sit, sir--a little back of those
+two big oaks. There's a spring above on the hill and sloping ground for
+drainage; and shade, and a great sweep of country in front. I've been
+hungry for this life ever since I left home; now I am going to have it."
+
+"It will be rather lonely, won't it?" The engineer's eyes softened as
+they rested on the young fellow, his face flushed with the enthusiasm of
+his new resolve. He and Ruth's mother had lived in just such a shanty,
+and not so very long ago, either, it seemed,--those were the happiest
+years of his life.
+
+"No!" exclaimed Jack. "It's only a step to the town; I can walk it in
+half an hour. No, it won't be lonely. I will fix up a room for Uncle
+Peter somewhere, so he can be comfortable,--he would love to come here
+on his holidays; and Ruth can come out for the day,--she will be crazy
+about it when I tell her. No, I will get along. If the lightning had
+struck my ore beds I would probably have painted and papered some musty
+back room in the village and lived a respectable life. Now I am going to
+turn savage."
+
+The next day the contracts were signed: work to commence in three
+months. Henry MacFarlane, Engineer-in-Chief, John Breen in charge of
+construction.
+
+It was on that same sofa in the far corner of the sitting-room that
+Jack told Ruth,--gently, one word at a time,--making the best of it, but
+telling her the exact truth.
+
+"And then we are not going to have any of the things we dreamed about,
+Jack," she said with a sigh.
+
+"I am afraid not, my darling,--not now, unless the lightning strikes us,
+which it won't."
+
+She looked out of the window for a moment, and her eyes filled with
+tears. Then she thought of her father, and how hard he had worked,
+and what disappointments he had suffered, and yet how, with all his
+troubles, he had always put his best foot foremost--always encouraging
+her. She would not let Jack see her chagrin. This was part of Jack's
+life, just as similar disappointments had been part of her father's.
+
+"Never mind, blessed. Well, we had lots of fun 'supposing,' didn't we,
+Jack. This one didn't come true, but some of the others will and what
+difference does it make, anyway, as long as I have you," and she nestled
+her face in his neck. "And now tell me what sort of a place it is and
+where daddy and I are going to live, and all about it."
+
+And then, to soften the disappointment the more and to keep a new bubble
+afloat, Jack launched out into a description of the country and how
+beautiful the view was from the edge of the hill overlooking the valley,
+with the big oaks crowning the top and the lichen-covered rocks and
+fallen timber blanketed with green moss, and the spring of water that
+gushed out of the ground and ran laughing down the hillside, and the
+sweep of mountains losing themselves in the blue haze of the distance,
+and then finally to the log-cabin he was going to build for his own
+especial use.
+
+"And only two miles away," she cried in a joyous tone,--"and I can ride
+out every day! Oh, Jack!--just think of it!" And so, with the breath
+of this new enthusiasm filling their souls, a new bubble of hope
+and gladness was floated, and again the two fell to planning, and
+"supposing," the rose-glow once more lightening up the peaks.
+
+For days nothing else was talked of. An onslaught was at once made on
+Carry's office, two doors below Mrs. Hicks, for photographs, plans
+of bungalows, shanties, White Mountain lean-tos, and the like, and
+as quickly tucked under Ruth's arm and carried off, with only the
+permission of the office boy,--Garry himself being absent owing to
+some matters connected with a big warehouse company in which he was
+interested, the boy said, and which took him to New York on the early
+train and did not allow his return sometimes, until after midnight.
+
+These plans were spread out under the lamp on the sitting-room table,
+the two studying the details, their heads together, MacFarlane sitting
+beside them reading or listening,--the light of the lamp falling on his
+earnest, thoughtful face,--Jack consulting him now and then as to the
+advisability of further extensions, the same being two rooms shingled
+inside and out, with an annex of bark and plank for Ruth's horse, and a
+kitchen and laundry and no end of comforts, big and little,--all to be
+occupied whenever their lucky day would come and the merry bells ring
+out the joyful tidings of their marriage.
+
+Nor was this all this particularly radiant bubble contained. Not only
+was there to be a big open fireplace built of stone, and overhead
+rafters of birch, the bark left on and still glistening,--but there
+were to be palms, ferns, hanging baskets, chintz curtains, rugs, pots of
+flowers, Chinese lanterns, hammocks, easy chairs; and for all Jack knew,
+porcelain tubs, electric bells, steam heat and hot and cold water, so
+enthusiastic had Ruth become over the possibilities lurking in the 15
+X 20 log-hut which Jack proposed to throw together as a shelter in his
+exile.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+
+The news of MacFarlane's expected departure soon became known in the
+village. There were not many people to say good-by, the inhabitants
+having seen but little of the engineer and still less of his daughter,
+except as she flew past, in a mad gallop, on her brown mare, her hair
+sometimes down her back. The pastor of the new church came, however, to
+express his regrets, and to thank Mr. MacFarlane for his interest in the
+church building. He also took occasion to say many complimentary things
+about Garry, extolling him for the wonderful manner in which that
+brilliant young architect had kept within the sum set apart by the
+trustees for its construction, and for the skill with which the work was
+being done, adding that as a slight reward for such devotion the church
+trustees had made Mr. Minott treasurer of the building fund, believing
+that in this way all disputes could the better be avoided,--one of some
+importance having already arisen (here the reverend gentleman lowered
+his voice) in which Mr. McGowan, he was sorry to say, who was building
+the masonry, had attempted an overcharge which only Mr. Minott's
+watchful eye could have detected, adding, with a glance over his
+shoulder, that the collapse of the embankment had undermined the
+contractor's reputation quite as much as the freshet had his culvert, at
+which MacFarlane smiled but made no reply.
+
+Corinne also came to express her regrets, bringing with her a scrap of
+an infant in a teetering baby carriage, the whole presided over by a
+nurse in a blue dress, white cap, and white apron, the ends reaching to
+her feet: not the Corinne, the Scribe is pained to say, who, in the old
+days would twist her head and stamp her little feet and have her way in
+everything. But a woman terribly shrunken, with deep lines in her face
+and under her eyes. Jack, man-like, did not notice the change, but Ruth
+did.
+
+After the baby had been duly admired, Ruth tossing it in her arms until
+it crowed, Corinne being too tired for much enthusiasm, had sent it
+home, Ruth escorting it herself to the garden gate.
+
+"I am sorry you are going," Corinne said in Ruth's absence. "I suppose
+we must stay on here until Garry finishes the new church. I haven't seen
+much of Ruth,--or of you, either, Jack. But I don't see much of anybody
+now,--not even of Garry. He never gets home until midnight, or even
+later, if the train is behind time, and it generally is."
+
+"Then he must have lots of new work," cried Jack in a cheerful tone. "He
+told me the last time I saw him on the train that he expected some big
+warehouse job."
+
+Corinne looked out of the window and fingered the handle of her parasol.
+
+"I don't believe that is what keeps him in town, Jack," she said slowly.
+"I hoped you would come and see him last Sunday. Did Garry give you my
+message? I heard you were at home to-day, and that is why I came."
+
+"No, he never said a single word about it or I would have come, of
+course. What do you think, then, keeps him in town so late?" Something
+in her voice made Jack leave his own and take a seat beside her. "Tell
+me, Corinne. I'll do anything I can for Garry and you too. What is it?"
+
+"I don't know, Jack,--I wish I did. He has changed lately. When I
+went to his room the other night he was walking the floor; he said
+he couldn't sleep, and the next morning when he didn't come down to
+breakfast I went up and found him in a half stupor. I had hard work to
+wake him. Don't tell Ruth,--I don't want anybody but you to know, but
+I wish you'd come and see him. I've nobody else to turn to,--won't you,
+Jack?"
+
+"Come! of course I'll come, Corinne,--now,--this minute, if he's home,
+or to-night, or any time you say. Suppose I go back with you and wait.
+Garry's working too hard, that's it,--he was always that way, puts his
+whole soul into anything he gets interested in and never lets up until
+it's accomplished." He waited for some reply, but she was still toying
+with the handle of her parasol. Her mind had not been on his proffered
+help,--she had not heard him, in fact.
+
+"And, Jack," she went on in the same heart-broken tone through which an
+unbidden sob seemed to struggle.
+
+"Yes, I am listening, Corinne,--what is it?"
+
+"I want you to forgive me for the way I have always treated you. I
+have--"
+
+"Why, Corinne, what nonsense! Don't you bother your head about such--"
+
+"Yes, but I do, and it is because I have never done anything but be ugly
+to you. When you lived with us I--"
+
+"But we were children then, Corinne, and neither of us knew any better.
+I won't hear one word of such nonsense. Why, my dear girl--"he had
+taken her hand as she spoke and the pair rested on his knee--"do you
+think I am--No--you are too sensible a woman to think anything of the
+kind. But that is not it, Corinne--something worries you;" he asked
+suddenly with a quick glance at her face. "What is it? You shall have
+the best in me, and Ruth will help too."
+
+Her fingers closed over his. The touch of the young fellow, so full of
+buoyant strength and hope and happiness, seemed to put new life into
+her.
+
+"I don't know, Jack." Her voice fell to a whisper. "There may not be
+anything, yet I live under an awful terror. Don't ask me;--only tell me
+you will help me if I need you. I have nobody else--my stepfather almost
+turned me out of his office when I went to see him the other day,--my
+mother doesn't care. She has only been here half a dozen times, and that
+was when baby was born. Hush,--here comes Ruth,--she must not know."
+
+"But she MUST know, Corinne. I never have any secrets from Ruth, and
+don't you have any either. Ruth couldn't be anything but kind to you
+and she never misunderstands, and she is so helpful. Here she is. Ruth,
+dear, we were just waiting for you. Corinne is nervous and depressed,
+and imagines all sorts of things, one of which is that we don't care for
+her: and I've just told her that we do?"
+
+Ruth looked into Jack's eyes as if to get his meaning--she must always
+get her cue from him now--she was entirely unconscious of the cause of
+it all, or why Corinne should feel so, but if Jack thought Corinne was
+suffering and that she wanted comforting, all she had was at Corinne's
+and Jack's disposal. With a quick movement she leaned forward and laid
+her hand on Corinne's shoulder.
+
+"Why, you dear Corinne,--Jack and I are not like that. What has gone
+wrong,--tell me," she urged.
+
+For a brief instant Corinne made no answer. Once she tried to speak but
+the words died in her throat. Then, lifting up her hands appealingly,
+she faltered out:
+
+"I only said that I--Oh, Ruth!--I am so wretched!" and sank back on the
+lounge in an agony of tears.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+
+At ten o'clock that same night Jack went to the station to meet Garry.
+He and Ruth had talked over the strange scene--unaccountable to both of
+them--and had determined that Jack should see Garry at once.
+
+"I must help him, Ruth, no matter at what cost. Garry has been my friend
+for years; he has been taken up with his work, and so have I, and
+we have drifted apart a little, but I shall never forget him for his
+kindness to me when I first came to New York. I would never have known
+Uncle Peter but for Garry, or Aunt Felicia, or--you, my darling."
+
+Jack waited under the shelter of the overhanging roof until the young
+architect stepped from the car and crossed the track. Garry walked with
+the sluggish movement of a tired man--hardly able to drag his feet after
+him.
+
+"I thought I'd come down to meet you, Garry," Jack cried in his old
+buoyant tone. "It's pretty rough on you, old fellow, working so hard."
+
+Garry raised his head and peered into the speaker's face.
+
+"Why, Jack!" he exclaimed in a surprised tone; the voice did not sound
+like Garry's. "I didn't see you in the train. Have you been in New York
+too?" He evidently understood nothing of Jack's explanation.
+
+"No, I came down to meet you. Corinne was at Mr. MacFarlane's to-day,
+and said you were not well,--and so I thought I'd walk home with you."
+
+"Oh, thank you, old man, but I'm all right. Corinne's nervous;--you
+mustn't mind her. I've been up against it for two or three weeks
+now,--lot of work of all kinds, and that's kept me a good deal from
+home. I don't wonder Cory's worried, but I can't help it--not yet."
+
+They had reached an overhead light, and Jack caught a clearer view of
+the man. What he saw sent a shiver through him. A great change had come
+over his friend. His untidy dress,--always so neat and well kept;
+his haggard eyes and shambling, unsteady walk, so different from his
+springy, debonair manner, all showed that he had been and still was
+under some terrible mental strain. That he had not been drinking was
+evident from his utterance and gait. This last discovery when his
+condition was considered, disturbed him most of all, for he saw that
+Garry was going through some terrible crisis, either professional or
+financial.
+
+As the two advanced toward the door of the station on their way to the
+street, the big, burly form of McGowan, the contractor, loomed up.
+
+"I heard you wouldn't be up till late, Mr. Minott," he exclaimed
+gruffly, blocking Garry's exit to the street. "I couldn't find you at
+the Council or at your office, so I had to come here. We haven't had
+that last payment on the church. The vouchers is all ready for your
+signature, so the head trustee says,--and the money's where you can git
+at it."
+
+Garry braced his shoulders and his jaw tightened. One secret of the
+young architect's professional success lay in his command over his men.
+Although he was considerate, and sometimes familiar, he never permitted
+any disrespect.
+
+"Why, yes, Mr. McGowan, that's so," he answered stiffly. "I've been in
+New York a good deal lately and I guess I've neglected things here. I'll
+try to come up in the morning, and if everything's all right I'll get a
+certificate and fill it up and you'll get a check in a few days."
+
+"Yes, but you said that last week." There was a sound of defiance in
+McGowan's voice.
+
+"If I did I had good reason for the delay," answered Garry with a flash
+of anger. "I'm not running my office to suit you."
+
+"Nor for anybody else who wants his money and who's got to have it, and
+I want to tell you, Mr. Minott, right here, and I don't care who hears
+it, that I want mine or I'll know the reason why."
+
+Garry wheeled fiercely and raised his hand as if to strike the speaker,
+then it dropped to his side.
+
+"I don't blame you, Mr. McGowan," he said in a restrained, even voice.
+"I have no doubt that it's due you and you ought to have it, but I've
+been pretty hard pressed lately with some matters in New York; so much
+so that I've been obliged to take the early morning train,--and you can
+see yourself what time I get home. Just give me a day or two longer and
+I'll examine the work and straighten it out. And then again, I'm not
+very well."
+
+The contractor glared into the speaker's face as if to continue the
+discussion, then his features relaxed. Something in the sound of Carry's
+voice, or perhaps some line of suffering in his face must have touched
+him.
+
+"Well, of course, I ain't no hog," he exclaimed in a softer tone, which
+was meant as an apology, "and if you're sick that ends it, but I've got
+all them men to pay and--"
+
+"Yes, I understand and I won't forget. Thank you, Mr. McGowan, and
+good-night. Come along, Jack,--Corinne's worrying, and will be till I
+get home."
+
+The two kept silent as they walked up the hill Garry, because he was too
+tired to discuss the cowardly attack; Jack, because what he had to say
+must be said when they were alone,--when he could get hold of Garry's
+hand and make him open his heart.
+
+As they approached the small house and mounted the steps leading to the
+front porch, Corinne's face could be seen pressed against a pane in one
+of the dining-room windows. Garry touched Jack's arm and pointed ahead:
+
+"Poor Cory!" he exclaimed with a deep sigh, "that's the way she is every
+night. Coming home is sometimes the worst part of it all, Jack."
+
+The door flew open and Corinne sprang out: "Are you tired, dear?" she
+asked, peering into his face and kissing him. Then turning to Jack:
+"Thank you, Jack!--It was so good of you to go. Ruth sent me word you
+had gone to meet him."
+
+She led the way into the house, relieving Garry of his hat, and moving
+up an easy chair stood beside it until he had settled himself into its
+depths.
+
+Again she bent over and kissed him: "How are things to-day, dear?--any
+better?" she inquired in a quavering voice.
+
+"Some of them are better and some are worse, Cory; but there's nothing
+for you to worry about. That's what I've been telling Jack. How's baby?
+Anybody been here from the board?--Any letters?"
+
+"Baby's all right," the words came slowly, as if all utterance gave her
+pain. "No, there are no letters. Mr. McGowan was here, but I told him
+you wouldn't be home till late."
+
+"Yes, I saw him," replied Garry, dropping his voice suddenly to a
+monotone, an expression of pain followed by a shade of anxiety settling
+on his face: McGowan and his affairs were evidently unpleasant subjects.
+At this instant the cry of a child was heard. Garry roused himself and
+turned his head.
+
+"Listen--that's baby crying! Better go to her, Cory."
+
+Garry waited until his wife had left the room, then he rose from, his
+chair, crossed to the sideboard, poured out three-quarters of a glass of
+raw whiskey and drank it without drawing a breath.
+
+"That's the first to-day, Jack. I dare not touch it when I'm on a strain
+like this. Can't think clearly, and I want my head,--all of it. There's
+a lot of sharks down in New York,--skin you alive if they could. I beg
+your pardon, old man,--have a drop?"
+
+Jack waved his hand in denial, his eyes still on his friend: "Not now,
+Garry, thank you."
+
+Garry dropped the stopper into the decanter, pushed back the empty
+tumbler and began pacing the floor, halting now and then to toe some
+pattern in the carpet, talking all the time to himself in broken
+sentences, like one thinking aloud. All Jack's heart went out to his
+friend as he watched him. He and Ruth were so happy. All their future
+was so full of hope and promise, and Garry--brilliant, successful
+Garry,--the envy of all his associates, so harassed and so wretched!
+
+"Garry, sit down and listen to me," Jack said at last. "I am your oldest
+friend; no one you know thinks any more of you than I do, or will be
+more ready to help. Now, what troubles you?"
+
+"I tell you, Jack, I'm not troubled!"--something of the old bravado
+rang in his voice,--"except as everybody is troubled when he's trying to
+straighten out something that won't straighten. I'm knocked out, that's
+all,--can't you see it?"
+
+"Yes, I see it,--and that's not all I see. Is it your work here or in
+New York? I want to know, and I'm going to know, and I have a right to
+know, and you are not going to bed until you tell me,--nor will I. I
+can and will help you, and so will Mr. MacFarlane, and Uncle Peter, and
+everybody I ask. What's gone wrong?--Tell me!"
+
+Garry continued to walk the floor. Then he wheeled suddenly and threw
+himself into his chair.
+
+"Well, Jack," he answered with an indrawn sigh,--"if you must know, I'm
+on the wrong side of the market."
+
+"Stocks?"
+
+"Not exactly. The bottom's fallen out of the Warehouse Company."
+
+Jack's heart gave a rebound. After all, it was only a question of money
+and this could be straightened out. He had begun to fear that it might
+be something worse; what, he dared not conjecture.
+
+"And you have lost money?" Jack continued in a less eager tone.
+
+"A whole lot of money."
+
+"How much?"
+
+"I don't know, but a lot. It went up three points to-day and so I am
+hanging on by my eyelids."
+
+"Well, that's not the first time men have been in that position," Jack
+replied in a hopeful tone. "Is there anything more,--something you are
+keeping back?"
+
+"Yes,--a good deal more. I'm afraid I'll have to let go. If I do I'm
+ruined."
+
+Jack kept silent for a moment. Various ways of raising money to help his
+friend passed in review, none of which at the moment seemed feasible or
+possible.
+
+"How much will make your account good?" he asked after a pause.
+
+"About ten thousand dollars."
+
+Jack leaned forward in his chair. "Ten thousand dollars!" he exclaimed
+in a startled tone. "Why, Garry--how in the name of common-sense did you
+get in as deep as that?"
+
+"Because I was a damned fool!"
+
+Again there was silence, during which Garry fumbled for a match, opened
+his case and lighted a cigarette. Then he said slowly, as he tossed the
+burnt end of the match from him:
+
+"You said something, Jack, about some of your friends helping. Could Mr.
+MacFarlane?"
+
+"No,--he hasn't got it,--not to spare. I was thinking of another kind of
+help when I spoke. I supposed you had got into debt, or something, and
+were depending on your commissions to pull you out, and that some new
+job was hanging fire and perhaps some of us could help as we did on the
+church."
+
+"No," rejoined Garry, in a hopeless tone, "nothing will help but a
+certified check. Perhaps your Mr. Grayson might do something," he
+continued in the same voice.
+
+"Uncle Peter! Why, Garry, he doesn't earn ten thousand dollars in three
+years."
+
+Again there was silence.
+
+"Well, would it be any use for you to ask Arthur Breen? He wouldn't give
+me a cent, and I wouldn't ask him. I don't believe in laying down
+on your wife's relations, but he might do it for you now that you're
+getting up in the world."
+
+Jack bent his head in deep thought. The proposal that his uncle had
+made him for the ore lands passed in review. At that time he could have
+turned over the property to Breen. But it was worthless now. He shook
+his head:
+
+"I don't think so." Then he added quickly--"Have you been to Mr.
+Morris?"
+
+"No, and won't. I'd die first!" this came in a sharp, determined voice,
+as if it had jumped hot from his heart.
+
+"But he thinks the world of you; it was only a week ago that he told Mr.
+MacFarlane that you were the best man he ever had in his office."
+
+"Yes,--that's why I won't go, Jack. I'll play my hand alone and take
+the consequences, but I won't beg of my friends; not a friend like Mr.
+Morris; any coward can do that. Mr. Morris believes in me,--I want him
+to continue to believe in me. That's worth twenty times ten thousand
+dollars." His eyes flashed for the first time. Again the old Garry shone
+out.
+
+"When must you have this money?"
+
+"By the end of the week,--before next Monday, anyhow."
+
+"Then the situation is not hopeless?"
+
+"No, not entirely. I have one card left;--I'll play it to-morrow, then
+I'll know."
+
+"Is there a chance of its winning?"
+
+"Yes and no. As for the 'yes,' I've always had my father's luck. Minotts
+don't go under and I don't believe I shall, we take risks and we win.
+That's what brought me to Corklesville, and you see what I have made of
+myself. Just at present I've got my foot in a bear trap, but I'll pull
+out somehow. As for the 'no' part of it,--I ought to tell you that the
+warehouse stock has been knocked endways by another corporation which
+has a right of way that cuts ours and is going to steal our business.
+I think it's a put-up job to bear our stock so they can scoop it and
+consolidate; that's why I am holding on. I've flung in every dollar I
+can rake and scrape for margin and my stocking's about turned inside
+out. I got a tip last week that I thought would land us all on our feet,
+but it worked the other way." Something connected with the tip must have
+stirred him for his face clouded as he rose to his feet, exclaiming:
+"Have a drop, Jack?--that last one braced me up."
+
+Again Jack shook his head, and again Garry settled himself back in his
+chair.
+
+"I am powerless, Garry," said Jack. "If I had the money you should have
+it. I have nothing but my salary and I have drawn only a little of that
+lately, so as to help out in starting the new work. I thought I had
+something in an ore bank my father left me, but it is valueless, I find.
+I suppose I could put some life in it if I would work it along the lines
+Uncle Arthur wants me to, but I can't and won't do that. Somehow, Garry,
+this stock business follows me everywhere. It drove me out of Uncle
+Arthur's office and house, although I never regretted that,--and now
+it hits you. I couldn't do anything to help Charlie Gilbert then and I
+can't do anything to help you now, unless you can think of some way. Is
+there any one that I can see except Uncle Arthur,--anybody I can talk
+to?"
+
+Garry shook his head.
+
+"I've done that, Jack. I've followed every lead, borrowed every dollar
+I could,--been turned down half a dozen times, but I kept on. Got it in
+the neck twice to-day from some fellows I thought would help push."
+
+Jack started forward, a light breaking over his face.
+
+"I have it, Garry! Suppose that I go to Mr. Morris. I can talk to him,
+maybe, in a way you would not like to."
+
+Garry lifted his head and sat erect.
+
+"No, by God!--you'll do nothing of the kind!" he cried, as he brought
+his fist down on the arm of his chair. "That man I love as I love
+nothing else in this world--wife--baby--nothing! I'll go under, but I'll
+never let him see me crawl. I'll be Garry Minott to him as long as I
+breathe. The same man he trusted,--the same man he loved,--for he does
+love me, and always did!" He hesitated and his voice broke, as if a sob
+clogged it. After a moment's struggle he went on: "I was a damned fool
+to leave him or I wouldn't be where I am. 'Garry,' he said to me that
+last day when he took me into his office and shut the door,--'Garry,
+stay on here a while longer; wait till next year. If it's more pay you
+want, fix it to suit yourself. I've got two boys coming along; they'll
+both be through the Beaux Arts in a year or so. I'm getting on and I'm
+getting tired. Stay on and go in with them.' And what did I do? Well,
+what's the use of talking?--you know it all."
+
+Jack moved his chair and put his arm over his shoulder as a woman would
+have done. He had caught the break in his voice and knew how manfully he
+was struggling to keep up.
+
+"Garry, old man."
+
+"Yes, Jack."
+
+"If Mr. Morris thought that way, then, why won't he help you now? What's
+ten thousand to him?"
+
+"Nothing,--not a drop in the bucket! He'd begin drawing the check before
+I'd finished telling him what I wanted it for. I'm in a hole and don't
+know which way to turn, but when I think of what he's done for me I'll
+rot in hell before I'll take his money." Again his voice had the old
+ring.
+
+"But, Garry," insisted Jack, "if I can see Morris in the morning and lay
+the whole matter before him--"
+
+"You'll do nothing of the kind, do you hear!--keep still--somebody's
+coming downstairs. Not a word if it is Corinne. She is carrying now all
+she can stand up under."
+
+He passed his hand across his face with a quick movement and brushed the
+tears from his cheeks.
+
+"Remember, not a word. I haven't told her everything. I tried to, but I
+couldn't."
+
+"Tell her now, Garry," cried Jack. "Now--to-night," his voice rising on
+the last word. "Before you close your eyes. You never needed her help as
+you do now."
+
+"I can't--it would break her heart. Keep still!--that's her step."
+
+Corinne entered the room slowly and walked to Garry's chair.
+
+"Baby's asleep now," she said in a subdued voice, "and I'm going to take
+you to bed. You won't mind, Jack, will you? Come, dear," and she slipped
+her hand under his arm to lift him from his chair.
+
+Garry rose from his seat.
+
+"All right," he answered assuming his old cheerful tone, "I'll go. I AM
+tired, I guess, Cory, and bed's the best place for me. Good-night, old
+man,--give my love to Ruth," and he followed his wife out of the room.
+
+Jack waited until the two had turned to mount the stairs, caught a
+significant flash from Garry's dark eyes as a further reminder of his
+silence, and, opening the front door, closed it softly behind him.
+
+Ruth was waiting for him. She had been walking the floor during the last
+half hour peering out now and then into the dark, with ears wide open
+for his step.
+
+"I was so worried, my precious," she cried, drawing his cheek down to
+her lips. "You stayed so long. Is it very dreadful?"
+
+Jack put his arm around her, led her into the sitting-room and shut the
+door. Then the two settled beside each other on the sofa.
+
+"Pretty bad,--my darling--" Jack answered at last,--"very bad, really."
+
+"Has he been drinking?"
+
+"Worse,--he has been dabbling in Wall Street and may lose every cent he
+has."
+
+Ruth leaned her head on her hand: "I was afraid it was something awful
+from the way Corinne spoke. Oh, poor dear,--I'm so sorry! Does she know
+now?"
+
+"She knows he's in trouble, but she doesn't know how bad it is. I
+begged him to tell her, but he wouldn't promise. He's afraid of hurting
+her--afraid to trust her, I think, with his sufferings. He's making an
+awful mistake, but I could not move him. He might listen to you if you
+tried."
+
+"But he must tell her, Jack," Ruth cried in an indignant tone. "It
+is not fair to her; it is not fair to any woman,--and it is not kind.
+Corinne is not a child any longer;--she's a grown woman, and a mother.
+How can she help him unless she knows? Jack, dear, look into my eyes;"
+her face was raised to his;--"Promise me, my darling, that no matter
+what happens to you you'll tell me first."
+
+And Jack promised.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+
+When Jack awoke the next morning his mind was still intent on helping
+Garry out of his difficulties. Where the money was to come from, and how
+far even ten thousand dollars would go in bridging over the crisis, even
+should he succeed in raising so large a sum, were the questions which
+caused him the most anxiety.
+
+A letter from Peter, while it did not bring any positive relief, shed a
+ray of light on the situation:
+
+I have just had another talk with the director of our bank--the one I
+told you was interested in steel works in Western Maryland. He by no
+means agrees with either you or MacFarlane as to the value of the ore
+deposits in that section, and is going to make an investigation of your
+property and let me know. You may, in fact, hear from him direct as I
+gave him your address.
+
+Dear love to Ruth and your own good self.
+
+This was indeed good news if anything came of it, but it wouldn't help
+Garry. Should he wait till Garry had played that last card he had spoken
+of, which he was so sure would win, or should he begin at once to try
+and raise the money?
+
+This news at any other time would have set his hopes to fluttering. If
+Peter's director was made of money and intent on throwing it away; and
+if a blast furnace or a steel plant, or whatever could turn worthless
+rock into pruning-hooks and ploughshares, should by some act of folly
+be built in the valley at the foot of the hill he owned, why something
+might come of it. But, then, so might skies fall and everybody have
+larks on toast for breakfast. Until then his concern was with Garry.
+
+He realized that the young architect was too broken down physically and
+mentally to decide any question of real moment. His will power was gone
+and his nerves unstrung. The kindest thing therefore that any friend
+could do for him, would be to step in and conduct the fight without him.
+Garry's wishes to keep the situation from Corinne would be respected,
+but that did not mean that his own efforts should be relaxed. Yet where
+would he begin, and on whom? MacFarlane had just told him that Morris
+was away from home and would not be back for several days. Peter was
+out of the question so far as his own means--or lack of means--was
+concerned, and he could not, of course, ask him to go into debt for a
+man who had never been his friend, especially when neither he nor Garry
+had any security to offer.
+
+He finally decided to talk the whole matter over with MacFarlane and
+act on his advice. The clear business head of his Chief cleared the
+situation as a north-west wind blows out a fog.
+
+"Stay out of it, Jack," he exclaimed in a quick, positive voice that
+showed he had made up his mind long before Jack had finished his
+recital. "Minott is a gambler, and so was his father before him. He has
+got to take his lean with his fat. If you pulled him out of this hole he
+would be in another in six months. It's in his blood, just as much as it
+is in your blood to love horses and the woods. Let him alone;--Corinne's
+stepfather is the man to help; that's his business, and that's where
+Minott wants to go. If there is anything of value in this Warehouse
+Company, Arthur Breen & Co. can carry the certificates for Minott until
+they go up and he can get out. If there is nothing, then the sooner
+Garry sells out and lets it go the better. Stay out, Jack. It's not in
+the line of your duty. It's hard on his wife and he is having a devil of
+a row to hoe, but it will be the best thing for him in the end."
+
+Jack listened in respectful silence, as he always did, to MacFarlane's
+frank outburst, but it neither changed his mind nor cooled his ardor.
+Where his heart was concerned his judgment rarely worked. Then, loyalty
+to a friend in distress was the one thing his father had taught him. He
+did not agree with his Chief's view of the situation. If Garry was born
+a gambler, he had kept that fact concealed from him and from his wife.
+He recalled the conversation he had had with him some weeks before, when
+he was so enthusiastic over the money he was going to make in the
+new Warehouse deal. He had been selected as the architect for the
+new buildings, and it was quite natural that he should have become
+interested in the securities of the company. This threatened calamity
+was one that might overtake any man. Get Garry out of this hole and he
+would stay out; let him sink, and his whole career would be ruined. And
+then there was a sentimental side to it even if Garry was a gambler--one
+that could not be ignored when he thought of Corinne and the child.
+
+Late in the afternoon, his mind still unsettled, he poured out his
+anxieties to Ruth. She did not disappoint him. Her big heart swelled
+only with sympathy for the wife who was suffering. It made no difference
+to her that Corinne had never been even polite, never once during the
+sojourn of the Minotts in the village having manifested the slightest
+interest either in her own or Jack's affairs--not even when MacFarlane
+was injured, nor yet when the freshet might have ruined them all. Ruth's
+generous nature had no room in it for petty rancors or little hurts.
+Then, too, Jack was troubled for his friend. What was there for her to
+do but to follow the lamp he held up to guide her feet--the lamp which
+now shed its glad effulgence over both? So they talked on, discussing
+various ways and means, new ties born of a deeper understanding binding
+them the closer--these two, who, as they sometimes whispered to each
+other, were "enlisted for life," ready to meet it side by side, whatever
+the day developed.
+
+Before they parted, she promised again to go and see Corinne and cheer
+her up. "She cannot be left alone, Jack, with this terrible thing
+hanging over her," she urged, "and you must meet Garry when he returns
+to-night. Then we can learn what he has done--perhaps he will have fixed
+everything himself." But though Jack went to the station and waited
+until the arrival of the last train had dropped its passengers, there
+was no sign of Garry. Nor did Ruth find Corinne. She had gone to the
+city, so the nurse said, with Mr. Minott by the early train and would
+not be back until the next day. Until their return Jack and Ruth found
+their hands tied.
+
+On the afternoon of the second day a boy called at the brick office
+where Jack was settling up the final accounts connected with the "fill"
+and the tunnel, preparatory to the move to Morfordsburg, and handed him
+a note. It was from Corinne.
+
+"I am in great trouble. Please come to me at once," it read. "I am here
+at home."
+
+Corinne was waiting for him in the hall. She took his hand without a
+word of welcome, and drew him into the small room where she had seen him
+two nights before. This time she shut and locked the door.
+
+"Mr. McGowan has just been here," she moaned in a voice that showed how
+terrible was the strain. "He tried to force his way up into Garry's
+room but I held him back. He is coming again with some one of the church
+trustees. Garry had a bad turn in New York and we came home by the noon
+train, and I have made him lie down and sent for the doctor. McGowan
+must not see him; it will kill him if he does. Don't leave us, Jack!"
+
+"But how dare he come here and try to force his--"
+
+"He will dare. He cursed and went on dreadfully. The door was shut, but
+Garry heard him. Oh, Jack!--what are we to do?"
+
+"Don't worry, Corinne; I'll take care of Mr. McGowan. I myself heard
+Garry tell him that he would attend to his payments in a few days, and
+he went away satisfied."
+
+"Yes, but McGowan says he has been to the bank and has also seen the
+Rector, and will stop at nothing."
+
+Jack's fingers tightened and his lips came together.
+
+"He will stop on that threshold," he said in a low, determined voice,
+"and never pass it--no matter what he wants. I will go up and tell Garry
+so."
+
+"No, not yet--wait," she pleaded, in nervous twitching tones--with
+pauses between each sentence. "You must hear it all first. Garry had not
+told me all when you were here two nights ago; he did not tell me until
+after you left. Then I knelt down by his bed and put my arms
+around him and he told me everything--about the people he had
+seen--and--McGowan--everything." She ceased speaking and hid her eyes
+with the back of one hand as if to shut out some spectre, then she
+stumbled on. "We took the early train for New York, and I waited until
+my stepfather was in his office and went into his private room. It was
+Garry's last hope. He thought Mr. Breen would listen to me on account
+of mother. I told him of our dreadful situation; how Garry must have ten
+thousand dollars, and must have it in twenty-four hours, to save us all
+from ruin. Would you believe, Jack--that he laughed and said it was an
+old story; that Garry had no business to be speculating; that he had
+told him a dozen times to keep out of the Street; that if Garry had any
+collaterals of any kind, he would loan him ten thousand dollars or any
+other sum, but that he had no good money to throw after bad. I did all I
+could; I almost went down on my knees to him; I begged for myself and my
+mother, but he only kept saying--'You go home, Corinne, and look after
+your baby--women don't understand these things.' Oh, Jack!--I could not
+believe that he was the same man who married my mother--and he isn't.
+Every year he has grown harder and harder; he is a thousand times worse
+than when you lived with him. Garry was waiting outside for me, and when
+I told him he turned as white as a sheet, and had to hold on to the iron
+railing for a moment. It was all I could do to get him home. If he sees
+Mr. McGowan now it will kill him; he can't pay him and he must tell him
+so, and it will all come out."
+
+"But he will pay him, Corinne, when he gets well."
+
+There came a pause. Then she said slowly as if each word was wrung from
+her heart:
+
+"There is no money. Garry took the trust funds from the church."
+
+"No money, Corinne! You don't mean--you can't--Oh! My God! Not Garry!
+No--not Garry!"
+
+"Yes! I mean it. He expected to pay it back, but the people he is with
+in New York lied to him, and now it is all gone." There was no change in
+her voice.
+
+She stood gazing into his face; not a tear in her eyes; no quiver of her
+lips. She had passed that stage; she was like a victim led to the stake
+in whom nothing but dull endurance is left.
+
+Jack backed into a chair and sat with bowed head, his cheeks in his
+hands. Had the earth opened under him he could not have been more
+astounded. Garry Minott a defaulter! Garry a thief! Everything seemed
+to whirl about him--only the woman remained quiet--still standing--her
+calm, impassive eyes fixed on his bowed head; her dry, withering,
+soulless words still vibrating in the hushed room.
+
+"When did this happen, Corinne--this--this taking of Mr. McGowan's
+money?" The words came between his closed fingers, as if he, too, would
+shut out some horrible shape.
+
+"Some two weeks ago."
+
+"When did you know of it?"
+
+"Night before last, after you left him. I knew he was in trouble, but
+I did not know it was as bad as this. If Mr. Breen had helped me
+everything would have been all right, for Garry sold out all the stock
+he had in the Warehouse Company, and this ten thousand dollars is all he
+owes." She shivered as she spoke, and her pale, tired eyes closed as if
+in pain. Nothing was said between them for a while, and neither of them
+stirred. During the silence the front door was heard to open, letting in
+the village doctor, who mounted the stairs, his footfalls reverberating
+in Garry's room overhead.
+
+Jack raised his eyes at last and studied her closely. The frail body
+seemed more crumpled and forlorn in the depths of the chair, where she
+had sunk, than when she had been standing before him. The blonde hair,
+always so glossy, was dry as hemp; the small, upturned nose, once
+so piquant and saucy, was thin and pinched--almost transparent; the
+washed-out, colorless eyes, which in her girlhood had flashed and
+sparkled so roguishly, were half hidden under swollen lids. The arms
+were flat, the hands like bird claws. The white heat of a furnace of
+agony had shrivelled her poor body, drying up all the juices of its
+youth.
+
+And yet with the scorching there had crept into the wan face, and into
+the tones of her tired, heart-broken voice something Jack had never
+found in her as a girl--something of tenderness, unselfishness--of
+self-sacrifice for another and with it there flamed up in his own heart
+a determination to help--to wipe out everything--to sponge the record,
+to reestablish the man who in a moment of agony had given way to an
+overpowering temptation and brought his wife to this condition. A
+lump rose in his throat, and a look of his old father shone out of his
+face--that look with which in the years gone by he had defied jury,
+district attorney, and public opinion for what he considered mercy. And
+mercy should be exercised now. Garry had never done one dishonest act
+before, and never, God helping, should he be judged for this.
+
+He, John Breen, let Garry be called a common thief! Garry whose every
+stand in Corklesville had been for justice; Garry whom Morris loved,
+whose presence brought a cheery word of welcome from every room he
+entered! Let him be proclaimed a defaulter, insulted by ruffians like
+McGowan, and treated like a felon--brilliant, lovable, forceful Garry!
+Never, if he had to go down on his knees to Holker Morris or any other
+man who could lend him a dollar.
+
+Corinne must have seen the new look in his face, for her own eyes
+brightened as she asked:
+
+"Have you thought of something that can help him?"
+
+Jack did not answer. His mind was too intent on finding some thread
+which would unravel the tangle.
+
+"Does anybody else know of this, Corinne?" he asked at last in a
+low-pitched voice.
+
+"Nobody."
+
+"Nobody must," he exclaimed firmly. Then he added gently--"Why did you
+tell me?"
+
+"He asked me to. It would all have come out in the end, and he didn't
+want you to see McGowan and not know the truth. Keep still--some one is
+knocking," she whispered, her fingers pressed to her lips in her fright.
+"I know it is McGowan, Jack. Shall I see him, or will you?"
+
+"I will--you stay here."
+
+Jack lifted himself erect and braced back his shoulders. He intended to
+be polite to McGowan, but he also intended to be firm. He also intended
+to refuse him any information or promise of any kind until the regular
+monthly meeting of the Church Board which would occur on Monday. This
+would give him time to act, and perhaps to save the situation, desperate
+as it looked.
+
+With this in his mind he turned the key and threw wide the door. It
+was the doctor who stood outside. He seemed to be laboring under some
+excitement.
+
+"I heard you were here, Mr. Breen--come upstairs."
+
+Jacked obeyed mechanically. Garry had evidently heard of his being
+downstairs and had some instructions to give, or some further confession
+to make. He would save him now from that humiliation; he would get his
+arms around him, as Corinne had done, and tell him he was still his
+friend and what he yet intended to do to pull him through, and that
+nothing which he had done had wrecked his affection for him.
+
+As these thoughts rushed over him his pace quickened, mounting the
+stairs two steps at a time so that he might save his friend even a
+moment of additional suffering. The doctor touched Jack on the shoulder,
+made a sign for him to moderate his steps, and the two moved to where
+his patient lay.
+
+Garry was on the bed, outside the covering, when they entered. He was
+lying on his back, his head and neck flat on a pillow, one foot resting
+on the floor. He was in his trousers and shirt; his coat and waistcoat
+lay where he had thrown them.
+
+"Garry," began Jack in a low voice--"I just ran in to say that--"
+
+The sick man did not move.
+
+Jack stopped, and turned his head to the doctor.
+
+"Asleep?" he whispered.
+
+"No;--drugged. That's why I wanted you to see him before I called his
+wife. Is he accustomed to this sort of thing?" and he picked up a bottle
+from the table.
+
+Jack took the phial in his hand; it was quite small, and had a glass
+stopper.
+
+"What is it, doctor?"
+
+"I don't know. Some preparation of chloral, I should think; smells and
+looks like it. I'll take it home and find out. If he's been taking this
+right along he may know how much he can stand, but if he's experimenting
+with it, he'll wake up some fine morning in the next world. What do you
+know about it?"
+
+"Only what I have heard Mrs. Minott say," Jack whispered behind his
+hand. "He can't sleep without it, she told me. He's been under a
+terrible business strain lately and couldn't stand the pressure, I
+expect."
+
+"Well, that's a little better," returned the doctor, moving the
+apparently lifeless arm aside and placing his ear close to the patient's
+breast. For a moment he listened intently, then he drew up a chair and
+sat down beside him, his fingers on Garry's pulse.
+
+"You don't think he's in danger, do you, doctor?" asked Jack in an
+anxious tone.
+
+"No--he'll pull through. His breathing is bad, but his heart is doing
+fairly well. But he's got to stop this sort of thing." Here the old
+doctor's voice rose as his indignation increased (nothing would wake
+Garry). "It's criminal--it's damnable! Every time one of you New York
+people get worried, or short of money or stocks, or what not, off you
+go to a two-cent drug shop and buy enough poison to kill a family. It's
+damnable, Breen--and you must tell Minott so when he wakes up."
+
+Jack made no protest against being included in the denunciation. He was
+too completely absorbed in the fate of the man who lay in a stupor.
+
+"Is there anything can be done for him?" he asked.
+
+"I can't tell yet. He may only have taken a small dose. I will watch him
+for a while. But if his pulse weakens we must shake him awake somehow.
+You needn't wait I'll call you if I want you, You've told me what I
+wanted to know."
+
+Again Jack bent over Garry, his heart wrung with pity and dismay. He was
+still there when the door opened softly and a servant entered, tiptoed
+to where he stood, and whispered in his ear:
+
+"Mrs. Minott says, sir, that Mr. McGowan and another man are
+downstairs."
+
+The contractor was standing in the hall, his hat still on his head.
+The other man Jack recognized as Murphy, one of the church building
+trustees. That McGowan was in an ugly mood was evident from the
+expression on his face, his jaw setting tighter when he discovered
+that Jack and not Garry was coming down to meet him; Jack having been
+associated with MacFarlane, who had "robbed him of damages" to the
+"fill."
+
+"I came to see Mr. Minott," McGowan blurted out before Jack's feet had
+touched the bottom step of the stairs. "I hear he's in--come home at
+dinner time."
+
+Jack continued his advance without answering until he had reached their
+side. Then with a "Good-evening, gentlemen," he said in a perfectly even
+voice:
+
+"Mr. Minott is ill and can see no one. I have just left the doctor
+sitting beside his bed. If there is anything I can do for either of you
+I will do it with pleasure."
+
+McGowan shoved his hat back on his forehead as if to give himself more
+air.
+
+"That kind of guff won't go with me no longer," he snarled, his face
+growing redder every instant. "This ill business is played out. He
+promised me three nights ago he'd make out a certificate next day--you
+heard him say it--and I waited for him all the morning and he never
+showed up. And then he sneaks off to New York at daylight and stays away
+for two nights more, and then sneaks home again in the middle of the day
+when you don't expect him, and goes to bed and sends for the doctor.
+How many kinds of a damned fool does he take me for? That work's been
+finished three weeks yesterday; the money is all in the bank to pay
+for it just as soon as he signs the check, and he don't sign it, and ye
+can't get him to sign it. Ain't that so, Jim Murphy?"
+
+Murphy nodded, and McGowan blazed on: "If you want to know what I think
+about it--there's something crooked about the whole business, and it
+gets crookeder all the time. He's drunk, if he's anything--boiling drunk
+and--"
+
+Jack laid the full weight of his hand on the speaker's shoulder:
+
+"Stop short off where you are, Mr. McGowan." The voice came as if
+through tightly clenched teeth. "If you have any business that I can
+attend to I am here to do it, but you can't remain here and abuse Mr.
+Minott. My purpose in coming downstairs was to help you if I could, but
+you must act like a man, not like a ruffian."
+
+Murphy stepped quickly between the two men:
+
+"Go easy, Mac," he cried in a conciliatory tone. "If the doctor's with
+him ye can't see him. Hear what Mr. Breen has to say; ye got to wait
+anyhow. Of course, Mr. Breen, Mr. McGowan is het up because the men is
+gettin' ugly, and he ain't got money enough for his next pay-roll, and
+the last one ain't all paid yit."
+
+McGowan again shifted his hat--this time he canted it on one side. His
+companion's warning had had its effect, for his voice was now pitched in
+a lower key.
+
+"There ain't no use talking pay-roll to Mr. Breen, Jim," he growled. "He
+knows what it is; he gits up agin' it once in a while himself. If he'll
+tell me just when I'm going to get my money I'll wait like any decent
+man would wait, but I want to know, and I want to know now."
+
+At that instant the door of the sitting-room opened, and Corinne,
+shrinking as one in mortal fright, glided out and made a hurried escape
+upstairs. Murphy sagged back against the wall and waited respectfully
+for her to disappear. McGowan did not alter his position nor did he
+remove his hat, though he waited until she had reached the landing
+before speaking again:
+
+"And now, what are you going to do, Mr. Breen?" he demanded in
+threatening tones.
+
+"Nothing," said Jack in his same even voice, his eyes never moving from
+the contractor's. "Nothing, until you get into a different frame of
+mind." Then he turned to Murphy: "When Mr. McGowan removes his hat, Mr.
+Murphy, and shows some sign of being a gentleman I will take you both
+into the next room and talk this matter over."
+
+McGowan flushed scarlet and jerked his hat from his head.
+
+"Well she come on me sudden like and I didn't see her till she'd got by.
+Of course, if you've got anything to say, I'm here to listen, Where'll
+we go?"
+
+Jack turned and led the way into the sitting-room, where he motioned
+them both to seats.
+
+"And now what is the exact amount of your voucher?" he asked, when he
+had drawn up a chair and sat facing them.
+
+McGowan fumbled in his inside pocket and drew forth a slip of paper.
+
+"A little short of ten thousand dollars," he answered in a business-like
+tone of voice. "There's the figures," and he handed the slip to Jack.
+
+"When is this payment to be made?" continued Jack, glancing at the slip.
+
+"Why, when the money is due, of course," he cried in a louder key.
+"Here's the contract--see--read it; then you'll know."
+
+Jack ran his eye over the document until it fell on the payment clause.
+This he read twice, weighing each word.
+
+"It says at the monthly meeting of the Board of Trustees, does it not?"
+he answered, smothering all trace of the relief the words brought him.
+
+McGowan changed color. "Well, yes--but that ain't the way the payments
+has always been made," he stammered out.
+
+"And if I am right, the meeting takes place on Monday next?" continued
+Jack in a decided tone, not noticing the interruption.
+
+"Yes, I suppose so."
+
+"Well, then, Monday night, Mr. McGowan, either Mr. Minott or I will be
+on hand. You must excuse me now. Mrs. Minott wants me, I think," and he
+handed McGowan the contract and walked toward the door, where he stood
+listening. Something was happening upstairs.
+
+McGowan and his friend looked at each other in silence. The commotion
+overhead only added to their discomfiture.
+
+"Well, what do you think, Jim?" McGowan said at last in a subdued,
+baffled voice.
+
+"Well, there ain't no use thinkin', Mac. If it's writ that way, it's
+writ that way; that's all there is to it--" and the two joined Jack
+who had stepped into the hall, his eyes up the stairway as if he was
+listening intensely.
+
+"Then you say, Mr. Breen, that Mr. Minott will meet us at the Board
+meeting on Monday?"
+
+Jack was about to reply when he caught sight of the doctor, his hand
+sliding rapidly down the stair-rail as he approached.
+
+McGowan, fearing to be interrupted, repeated his question in a louder
+voice:
+
+"Then you say I'll see Mr. Minott on Monday?"
+
+The doctor crossed to Jack's side. He was breathing heavily, his lips
+quivering; he looked like a man who had received some sudden shock.
+
+"Go up to Mrs. Minott," he gasped. "It's all over, Breen. He's dying. He
+took the whole bottle."
+
+At this instant an agonizing shriek cut the air. It was the voice of
+Corinne.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+
+No one suspected that the young architect had killed himself. Garry was
+known to have suffered from insomnia, and was supposed to have taken an
+overdose of chloral. The doctor so decided, and the doctor's word was
+law in such MATTERS, and so there was no coroner's inquest. Then again,
+it was also known that he was doing a prosperous business with
+several buildings still in course of construction, and that his wife's
+stepfather was a prominent banker.
+
+McGowan and his friends were stupefied. One hope was left, and that was
+Jack's promise that either he or Garry would be at the trustees' meeting
+on Monday night.
+
+Jack had not forgotten. Indeed nothing else filled his mind. There were
+still three days in which to work. The shock of his friend's death,
+tremendous as it was, had only roused him to a greater need of action.
+The funeral was to take place on Sunday, but he had Saturday and Monday
+left. What he intended to do for Garry and his career he must now do
+for Garry's family and Garry's reputation. The obligation had really
+increased, because Garry could no longer fight his battles himself;
+nor was there a moment to lose. The slightest spark of suspicion would
+kindle a flame of inquiry, and the roar of an investigation would
+follow. McGowan had already voiced his own distrust of Garry's methods.
+No matter what the cost, this money must be found before Monday night.
+
+The secret of both the suicide and the defalcation was carefully guarded
+from MacFarlane, who, with his daughter, went at once to Minott's house,
+proffering his services to the stricken widow, but nothing was withheld
+from Ruth. The serious financial obligations which Jack was about to
+undertake would inevitably affect their two lives; greater, therefore,
+than the loyalty he owed to the memory of his dead friend, was the
+loyalty which he owed to the woman who was to be his wife, and from whom
+he had promised to hide no secrets. Though he felt sure what her answer
+would be, his heart gave a great bound of relief when she answered
+impulsively, without a thought for herself or their future:
+
+"You are right, dearest. These things make me love you more. You are so
+splendid, Jack. And you never disappoint me. It is Garry's poor little
+boy who must be protected. Everybody would pity the wife, but nobody
+would pity the child. He will always be pointed at when he grows up.
+Dear little tot! He lay in my arms so sweet and fresh this morning,
+and put his baby hands upon my cheek, and looked so appealingly into my
+face. Oh, Jack, we must help him. He has done nothing."
+
+They were sitting together as she spoke, her head on his shoulder, her
+fingers held tight in his strong, brown hand. She could get closer to
+him in this position, she always told him: these hands and cheeks were
+the poles of a battery between which flowed and flashed the vitality of
+two sound bodies, and through which quivered the ecstasy of two souls.
+
+Suddenly the thought of Garry and what he had been, in the days of his
+brilliancy, and of what he had done to crush the lives about him came to
+her. Could she not find some excuse for him, something which she might
+use as her own silent defence of him in the years that were to come?
+
+"Do you think Garry was out of his mind, Jack? He's been so depressed
+lately?" she asked, all her sympathy in her voice.
+
+"No, my blessed, I don't think so. Everybody is more or less insane who
+succumbs to a crisis. Garry believed absolutely in himself and his luck,
+and when the cards went against him he collapsed. And yet he was no
+more a criminal at heart than I am. But that is all over now. He has his
+punishment, poor boy, and it is awful when you think of it. How he could
+bring himself to prove false to his trust is the worst thing about it.
+This is a queer world, my darling, in which we live. I never knew much
+about it until lately. It is not so at home, or was not when I was a
+boy--but here you can take away a man's character, rob him of his
+home, corrupt his children. You can break your wife's heart, be cruel,
+revengeful; you can lie and be tricky, and no law can touch you--in
+fact, you are still a respectable citizen. But if you take a dollar-bill
+out of another man's cash drawer, you are sent to jail and branded as a
+thief. And it is right--looked at from one standpoint--the protection
+of society. It is the absence of all mercy in the enforcement of the law
+that angers me."
+
+Ruth moved her head and nestled the closer. How had she lived all the
+years of her life, she thought to herself, without this shoulder to lean
+on and this hand to guide her? She made no answer. She had never thought
+about these things in that way before, but she would now. It was so
+restful and so blissful just to have him lead her, he who was so strong
+and self-reliant, and whose vision was so clear, and who never dwelt
+upon the little issues. And it was such a relief to reach up her arms
+and kiss him and say, "Yes, blessed," and to feel herself safe in his
+hands. She had never been able to do that with her father. He had always
+leaned on her when schemes of economies were to be thought out, or
+details of their daily lives planned. All this was changed now. She had
+found Jack's heart wide open and had slipped inside, his strong will
+henceforth to be hers.
+
+Still cuddling close, her head on his shoulder, her heart going out
+to him as she thought of the next morning and the task before him, she
+talked of their coming move to the mountains, and of the log-cabin
+for which Jack had already given orders; of the approaching autumn and
+winter and what they would make of it, and of dear daddy's plans and
+profits, and of how long they must wait before a larger log-cabin--one
+big enough for two--would be theirs for life--any and every topic which
+she thought would divert his mind--but Garry's ghost would not down.
+
+"And what are you going to do first, my darling?" she asked at last,
+finding that Jack answered only in monosyllables or remained silent
+altogether.
+
+"I am going to see Uncle Arthur in the morning," he answered quickly,
+uncovering his brooding thoughts. "It won't do any good, perhaps, but I
+will try it. I have never asked him for a cent for myself, and I won't
+now. He may help Corinne this time, now that Garry is dead. There
+must be some outside money due Garry that he has not been able to
+collect--commissions on unfinished work. This can be turned in when it
+is due. Then I am going to Uncle Peter, and after that to some of the
+people we trade with."
+
+Breen was standing by the ticker when Jack entered. It was a busy day in
+the Street and values were going up by leaps and bounds. The broker was
+not in a good humor; many of his customers were short of the market.
+
+He followed Jack into his private office and faced him.
+
+"Funeral's at one o'clock Sunday, I see," he said in a sharp voice, as
+if he resented the incident. "Your aunt and I will be out on the noon
+train. She got back this morning, pretty well bunged up. Killed himself,
+didn't he?"
+
+"That is not the doctor's opinion, sir, and he was with him when he
+died."
+
+"Well, it looks that way to me. He's busted--and all balled up in the
+Street. If you know anybody who will take the lease off Corinne's hands,
+let me know. She and the baby are coming to live with us."
+
+Jack replied that he would make it his business to do so, with pleasure,
+and after giving his uncle the details of Garry's death he finally
+arrived at the tangled condition of his affairs.
+
+Breen promptly interrupted him.
+
+"Yes, so Corinne told me. She was in here one day last week and wanted
+to borrow ten thousand dollars. I told her it didn't grow on trees.
+Suppose I had given it to her? Where would it be now. Might as well have
+thrown it in the waste-basket. So I shut down on the whole business--had
+to."
+
+Jack waited until his uncle had relieved his mind. The state of the
+market had something to do with his merciless point of view; increasing
+irritability, due to loss of sleep, and his habits had more. The
+outburst over, Jack said in a calm direct voice, watching the effect of
+the words as a gunner watches a shell from his gun:
+
+"Will you lend it to me, sir?"
+
+Arthur was pacing his private office, casting about in his mind how to
+terminate the interview, when Jack's shot overhauled him. Garry's sudden
+death had already led him to waste a few more minutes of his time than
+he was accustomed to on a morning like this, unless there was business
+in it.
+
+He turned sharply, looked at Jack for an instant, and dropped into the
+revolving chair fronting his desk.
+
+Then he said in a tone of undisguised surprise:
+
+"Lend you ten thousand dollars! What for?"
+
+"To clear up some matters of Garry's at Corklesville. The Warehouse
+matter has been closed out, so Corinne tells me."
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it? I thought you wanted it for yourself. Who signs
+for it?"
+
+"I do."
+
+"On what collateral?"
+
+"My word."
+
+Breen leaned back in his chair. The unsophisticated innocence of this
+boy from the country would be amusing if it were not so stupid.
+
+"What are you earning, Jack?" he said at last, with a half-derisive,
+half-humorous expression on his face.
+
+"A thousand dollars a year." Jack had never taken his eyes from his
+uncle's face, nor had he moved a muscle of his body.
+
+"And it would take you ten years to pay it if you dumped it all in?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Got anything else to offer?" This came in a less supercilious tone. The
+calm, direct manner of the young man had begun to have its effect.
+
+"Nothing but my ore property."
+
+"That's good for nothing. I made a mistake when I wanted you to put it
+in here. Glad you didn't take me up."
+
+"So am I. My own investigation showed the same thing."
+
+"And the ore's of poor quality," continued Breen in a decided tone.
+
+"Very poor quality, what I saw of it," rejoined Jack.
+
+"Well, we will check that off. MacFarlane got any thing he could turn
+in?"
+
+"No--and I wouldn't ask him."
+
+"And you mean to tell me, Jack, that you are going broke yourself to
+help a dead man pay his debts?"
+
+"If you choose to put it that way."
+
+"Put it that way? Why, what other way is there to put it? You'll excuse
+me, Jack--but you always were a fool when your damned idiotic notions
+of what is right and wrong got into your head--and you'll never get over
+it. You might have had an interest in my business by this time, and be
+able to write your check in four figures; and yet here you are cooped up
+in a Jersey village, living at a roadside tavern, and getting a thousand
+dollars a year. That's what your father did before you; went round
+paying everybody's debts; never could teach him anything; died poor,
+just as I told him he would."
+
+Jack had to hold on to his chair to keep his mouth closed. His father's
+memory was dangerous ground for any man to tread on--even his father's
+brother; but the stake for which he was playing was too great to be
+risked by his own anger.
+
+"No, Jack," Breen continued, gathering up a mass of letters and jamming
+them into a pigeon-hole in front of him, as if the whole matter was set
+forth in their pages and he was through with it forever. "No--I guess
+I'll pass on that ten thousand-dollar loan. I am sorry, but A. B. &
+Co, haven't any shekels for that kind of tommy-rot. As to your helping
+Minott, what I've got to say to you is just this: let the other fellow
+walk--the fellow Garry owes money to--but don't you butt in. They'll
+only laugh at you. Now you will have to excuse me--the market's kiting,
+and I've got to watch it. Give my love to Ruth. Your aunt and I will be
+out on the noon train for the funeral. Good-by."
+
+It was what he had expected. He would, perhaps, have stood a better
+chance if he had read him Peter's encouraging letter of the director's
+opinion of his Cumberland property, and he might also have brought him
+up standing (and gone away with the check in his pocket) if he had told
+him that the money was to save his own wife's daughter and grandchild
+from disgrace--but that secret was not his. Only as a last, desperate
+resource would he lay that fact bare to a man like Arthur Breen, and
+perhaps not even then. John Breen's word was, or ought to be, sacred
+enough on which to borrow ten thousand dollars or any other sum. That
+meant a mortgage on his life until every cent was paid.
+
+Do not smile, dear reader. He is only learning his first lesson in
+modern finance. All young men "raised" as Jack had been--and the Scribe
+is one of them--would have been of the same mind at his age. In a great
+city, when your tea-kettle starts to leaking, you never borrow a whole
+one from your neighbor; you send to the shop at the corner and buy
+another. In the country--Jack's country, I mean--miles from a store, you
+borrow your neighbor's, who promptly borrows your saucepan in return.
+And it was so in larger matters: the old Chippendale desk with its
+secret drawer was often the bank--the only one, perhaps, in a week's
+journey. It is astonishing in these days to think how many dingy,
+tattered or torn bank-notes were fished out of these same receptacles
+and handed over to a neighbor with the customary--"With the greatest
+pleasure, my dear sir. When you can sell your corn or hogs, or that
+mortgage is paid off, you can return it." A man who was able to lend,
+and who still refused to lend, to a friend in his adversity, was a
+pariah. He had committed the unpardonable sin. And the last drop of the
+best Madeira went the same way and with equal graciousness!
+
+Peter, at Jack's knock, opened the door himself. Isaac Cohen had just
+come in to show him a new book, and Peter supposed some one from the
+shop below had sent upstairs for him.
+
+"Oh! it's you, my boy!" Peter cried in his hearty way, his arms around
+Jack's shoulders as he drew him inside the room. Then something in the
+boy's face checked him, bringing to mind the tragedy. "Yes, I read it
+all in the papers," he exclaimed in a sympathetic voice. "Terrible,
+isn't it! Poor Minott. How are his wife and the poor little baby--and
+dear Ruth. The funeral is to-morrow I see by the papers. Yes, of course
+I'm going." As he spoke he turned his head and scanned Jack closely.
+
+"Are you ill, my boy?" he asked in an anxious tone, leading him to a
+seat on the sofa. "You look terribly worn."
+
+"We all have our troubles, Uncle Peter," Jack replied with a glance at
+Cohen, who had risen from his chair to shake his hand.
+
+"Yes--but not you. Out with it! Isaac doesn't count. Anything you can
+tell me you can tell him. What's the matter?--is it Ruth?"
+
+Jack's face cleared. "No, she is lovely, and sent you her dearest love."
+
+"Then it's your work up in the valley?"
+
+"No--we begin in a month. Everything's ready--or will be."
+
+"Oh! I see, it's the loss of Minott. Oh, yes, I understand it all now.
+Forgive me, Jack. I did not remember how intimate you and he were once.
+Yes, it is a dreadful thing to lose a friend. Poor boy!"
+
+"No--it's not that altogether, Uncle Peter."
+
+He could not tell him. The dear old gentleman was ignorant of everything
+regarding Garry and his affairs, except that he was a brilliant young
+architect, with a dashing way about him, of whom Morris was proud. This
+image he could not and would not destroy. And yet something must be
+done to switch Peter from the main subject--at least until Cohen should
+leave.
+
+"The fact is I have just had an interview with Uncle Arthur, and he has
+rather hurt my feelings," Jack continued in explanation, a forced smile
+on his face. "I wanted to borrow a little money. All I had to offer as
+security was my word."
+
+Peter immediately became interested. Nothing delighted him so much as to
+talk over Jack's affairs. Was he not a silent partner in the concern?
+
+"You wanted it, of course, to help out on the new work," he rejoined.
+"Yes, it always takes money in the beginning. And what did the old fox
+say?"
+
+Jack smiled meaningly. "He said that what I called 'my word' wasn't
+a collateral. Wanted something better. So I've got to hunt for it
+somewhere else."
+
+"And he wouldn't give it to you?" cried Peter indignantly. "No, of
+course not! A man's word doesn't count with these pickers and stealers.
+Half--three-quarters--of the business of the globe is done on a man's
+word. He writes it on the bottom or on the back of a slip of paper small
+enough to light a cigar with--but it's only his word that counts.
+In these mouse-traps, however, these cracks in the wall, they want
+something they can get rid of the moment somebody else says it is not
+worth what they loaned on it; or they want a bond with the Government
+behind it. Oh, I know them!"
+
+Cohen laughed--a dry laugh--in compliment to Peter's way of putting
+it--but there was no ring of humor in it. He had been reading Jack's
+mind. There was something behind the forced smile that Peter had
+missed--something deeper than the lines of anxiety and the haunted look
+in the eyes. This was a different lad from the one with whom he had
+spent so pleasant an evening some weeks before. What had caused the
+change?
+
+"Don't you abuse them, Mr. Grayson--these pawn-brokers," he said in his
+slow, measured way. "If every man was a Turk we could take his word, but
+when they are Jews and Christians and such other unreliable people, of
+course they want something for their ducats. It's the same old pound
+of flesh. Very respectable firm this, Mr. Arthur Breen & Co.--VERY
+respectable people. I used to press off the elder gentleman's coat--he
+had only two--one of them I made myself when he first came to New
+York--but he has forgotten all about it now," and the little tailor
+purred softly.
+
+"If you had pressed out his morals, Isaac, it would have helped some."
+
+"They didn't need it. He was a very quiet young man and very polite; not
+so fat, or so red or so rich, as he is now. I saw him the other day in
+our bank. You see," and he winked slyly at Jack, "these grand people
+must borrow sometimes, like the rest of us; but he never remembers me
+any more." Isaac paused for a moment as if the reminiscence had
+recalled some amusing incident. When he continued his face had a broad
+smile--"and I must say, too, that he always paid his bills. Once, when
+he was afraid he could not pay, he wanted to bring the coat back, but I
+wouldn't let him. Oh, yes, a very nice young man, Mr. Arthur Breen," and
+the tailor's plump body shook with suppressed laughter.
+
+"You know, of course, that he is this young man's uncle," said Peter,
+laying his hand affectionately on Jack's shoulder.
+
+"Oh, yes, I know about it. I saw the likeness that first day you came
+in," he continued, nodding to Jack. "It was one of the times when your
+sister, the magnificent Miss Grayson was here, Mr. Grayson." Isaac
+always called her so, a merry twinkle in his eye when he said it, but
+with a face and voice showing nothing but the deepest respect; at
+which Peter would laugh a gentle laugh in apology for his sister's
+peculiarities, a dislike of little tailors being one of them--this
+little tailor especially.
+
+"And now, Mr. Breen, I hope you will have better luck," Isaac said,
+rising from his chair and holding out his hand.
+
+"But you are not going, Isaac," protested Peter.
+
+"Yes, this young gentleman, I see, is in a good deal of trouble and I
+cannot help him much, so I will go away," and with a wave of his pudgy
+hand he shut the door behind him and trotted downstairs to his shop.
+
+Jack waited until the sound of his retreating footsteps assured the
+Jew's permanent departure, then he turned to Peter.
+
+"I did not want to say too much before Mr. Cohen, but Uncle Arthur's
+refusal has upset me completely. I could not have believed it of him.
+You must help me somehow, Uncle Peter. I don't mean with your own money;
+you have not got it to spare--but so I can get it somewhere. I must have
+it, and I can't rest until I do get it."
+
+"Why, my dear boy! Is it so bad as that? I thought you were joking."
+
+"I tried to joke about it while Mr. Cohen was here, but he saw through
+it, I know, from the way he spoke: but this really is a very serious
+matter; more serious than anything that ever happened to me."
+
+Peter walked to the sofa and sat down. Jack's manner and the tone of his
+voice showed that a grave calamity had overtaken the boy. He sat looking
+into Jack's eyes.
+
+"Go on," he said, his heart in his mouth.
+
+"I must have ten thousand dollars. How and where can I borrow it?"
+
+Peter started. "Ten thousand dollars!" he repeated in undisguised
+surprise. "Whew! Why, Jack, that's a very large sum of money for you to
+want. Why, my dear boy, this is--well--well!"
+
+"It is not for me, Uncle Peter--or I would not come to you for it."
+
+"For whom is it, then?" Peter asked, in a tone that showed how great was
+his relief now that Jack was not involved.
+
+"Don't ask me, please."
+
+Peter was about to speak, but he checked himself. He saw it all now.
+The money was for MacFarlane, and the boy did not like to say so. He had
+heard something of Henry's financial difficulties caused by the damage
+to the "fill." He thought that this had been made good; he saw now that
+he was misinformed.
+
+"When do you want it, Jack?" he resumed. He was willing to help, no
+matter who it was for.
+
+"Before Monday night."
+
+Peter drew out his watch as if to find some relief from its dial, and
+slipped it into his pocket again. It was not yet three o'clock and his
+bank was still open, but it did not contain ten thousand dollars or
+any other sum that he could draw upon. Besides, neither Jack, nor
+MacFarlane, nor anybody connected with Jack, had an account at the
+Exeter. The discounting of their notes was, therefore, out of the
+question.
+
+"To-day is a short business day, Jack, being Saturday," he said with a
+sigh. "If I had known of this before I might have--and yet to tell you
+the simple truth, my boy, I don't know a human being in the world who
+would lend me that much money, or whom I could ask for it."
+
+"I thought maybe Mr. Morris might, if you went to him, but I understand
+he is out of town," returned Jack.
+
+"Yes," answered Peter in a perplexed tone--"yes--Holker has gone to
+Chicago and won't be back for a week." He, too, had thought of Morris
+and the instantaneous way in which he would have reached for his
+check-book.
+
+"And you must have it by Monday night?" Peter continued, his thoughts
+bringing into review one after the other all the moneyed men he knew.
+"Well--well--that IS a very short notice. It means Monday to hunt in,
+really--to-morrow being Sunday."
+
+He leaned back and sat in deep thought, Jack watching every expression
+that crossed his face. Perhaps Ruth was mixed up in it in some
+way. Perhaps their marriage depended upon it--not directly, but
+indirectly--making a long postponement inevitable. Perhaps MacFarlane
+had some old score to settle. This contracting was precarious business.
+Once before he had known Henry to be in just such straits. Again he
+consulted his watch.
+
+Then a new and cheering thought struck him. He rose quickly from his
+seat on the sofa and crossed the room to get his hat.
+
+"It is a forlorn hope, Jack, but I'll try it. Come back here in an
+hour--or stay here and wait."
+
+"No, I'll keep moving," replied Jack. "I have thought of some supply
+men who know me; our account is considerable; they would lend it to Mr.
+MacFarlane, but that's not the way I want it. I'll see them and get back
+as soon as I can--perhaps in a couple of hours."
+
+"Then make it eight o'clock, so as to be sure. I have thought
+of something else. Ten thousand dollars," he kept muttering to
+himself--"ten thousand dollars"--as he put on his hat and moved to the
+door. There he stopped and faced about--his bushy brows tightening as
+a new difficulty confronted him. "Well, but for how long?" That part of
+the transaction Jack had forgotten to mention.
+
+"I can't tell; maybe a year--maybe more."
+
+Peter advanced a step as if to return to the room and give up the whole
+business.
+
+"But Jack, my boy, don't you see how impossible a loan of that kind is?"
+
+Jack stood irresolute. In his mad desire to save Garry he had not
+considered that phase of the matter.
+
+"Yes--but I've GOT TO HAVE IT," he cried in a positive tone. "You would
+feel just as I do, if you knew the circumstances."
+
+Peter turned without a word and opened the door leading into the hall.
+"Be back here at eight," was all he said as he shut the door behind him
+and clattered down the uncarpeted stairs.
+
+Shortly before the appointed hour Jack again mounted the three flights
+of steps to Peter's rooms. He had had a queer experience--queer for him.
+The senior member of one supply firm had looked at him sharply, and
+had then said with a contemptuous smile, "Well, we are looking for
+ten thousand dollars ourselves, and will pay a commission to get it."
+Another had replied that they were short, or would be glad to oblige
+him, and as soon as Jack left the office had called to their bookkeeper
+to "send MacFarlane his account, and say we have some heavy payments
+to meet, and will he oblige us with a check"--adding to his
+partner--"Something rotten in Denmark, or that young fellow wouldn't
+be looking around for a wad as big as that." A third merchant heard
+him out, and with some feeling in his voice said: "I'm sorry for you,
+Breen"--Jack's need of money was excuse enough for the familiarity--"for
+Mr. MacFarlane thinks everything of you, he's told me so a dozen
+times--and there isn't any finer man living than Henry MacFarlane. But,
+just as your friend, let me tell you to stay out of the Street; it's
+no place for a young man like you. No--I don't mean any offence. If I
+didn't believe in you myself, I wouldn't say it. Take my advice and stay
+out."
+
+And so footsore and heart-sore, his face haggard from hunger, for he
+had eaten nothing since breakfast, his purpose misunderstood, his own
+character assailed, his pride humiliated, and with courage almost gone,
+he strode into Peter's room and threw himself into a chair.
+
+Peter heard his step and entered from his bedroom, where he had finished
+dressing for dinner. The old fellow seemed greatly troubled. One glance
+at Jack's face told the story of the afternoon.
+
+"You have done nothing, Jack?" he asked in a despondent tone.
+
+"No--have you?"
+
+"Nothing. Portman has gone to his place on Long Island, the others were
+out. Whom did you see?"
+
+"Some people we do business with; some of them laughed at me; some gave
+me advice; none of them had any money."
+
+"I expected it. I don't think you are quite aware of what you ask, my
+dear boy."
+
+"Perhaps I am not, but I am beginning to see. It is a new experience for
+me. If my father had wanted the money for the same purpose for which I
+want this, he would not have had to drive a mile from his house before
+he would have had it."
+
+"Your father lived in a different atmosphere, my boy; in another age,
+really. In his environment money meant the education of children, the
+comfort of women, and the hospitalities that make up social life."
+
+"Well, is not that true now, among decent people?" protested Jack, his
+mind going back to some homes he remembered.
+
+"No--not generally--not here in New York. Money here means the right to
+exist on the planet; we fight for it as we do for our lives. Your own
+need of this ten thousand dollars proves it. The men I tried to find
+this afternoon have more than they need or ever will need; that's why
+I called on them. If I lost it, it wouldn't matter to them, but I would
+never hear the last of it all the same," and a shudder ran through him.
+
+Peter did not tell Jack that had Portman been at home and, out of
+friendship for him, had agreed to his request, he would have required
+the old fellow's name on a demand note for the amount of the loan; and
+that he would willingly have signed it, to relieve the boy's mind and
+ward off the calamity that threatened those he loved and those who loved
+him--not one cent of which, the Scribe adds in all positiveness, would
+the boy have taken had he known that the dear fellow had in any way
+pledged himself for its return.
+
+For some minutes Jack sat stretched out in his chair, his body aslant;
+Peter still beside him. All the events of the day and night passed in
+review before him; Garry's face and heavy breathing; McGowan's visit
+and defiance; Corinne's agonized shriek--even the remembrance made him
+creep--then Ruth's voice and her pleading look: "The poor little boy.
+Jack. He has done no wrong--all his life he must be pointed at."
+
+He dragged himself to his feet.
+
+"I will go back to Ruth now, Uncle Peter. Thank you for trying. I
+know it is a wild goose chase, but I must keep moving. You will be
+out to-morrow; we bury poor Garry at one o'clock. I still have all day
+Monday. Good-night."
+
+"Come out and dine with me, my boy--we will go to--"
+
+"No, Ruth is worrying. I will get something to eat when I get home.
+Good-night!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+
+Jack descended Peter's stairs one step at a time, Each seemed to plunge
+him the deeper into some pit of despair. Before he reached the bottom he
+began to realize the futility of his efforts. He began to realize, too,
+that both he and Ruth had been swept off their feet by their emotions.
+MacFarlane, the elder Breen, and now Peter, had all either openly
+condemned his course or had given it scant encouragement. There was
+nothing to go new but go home and tell Ruth. Then, after the funeral was
+over, he would have another talk with MacFarlane.
+
+He had reached the cool air of the street, and stood hesitating whether
+to cross the Square on his way to the ferry, or to turn down the avenue,
+when the door of Isaac Cohen's shop opened, and the little tailor put
+out his head.
+
+"I have been waiting for you." he said in a measured voice. "Come
+inside."
+
+Jack was about to tell him that he must catch a train, when something
+in the tailor's manner and the earnestness with which he spoke, made the
+young fellow alter his mind and follow him.
+
+The little man led the way through the now darkened and empty shop,
+lighted by one gas jet--past the long cutting counter flanked by shelves
+bearing rolls of cloth and paper patterns, around the octagon stove
+where the irons were still warm, and through the small door which led
+into his private room. There he turned up a reading lamp, its light
+softened by a green shade, and motioning Jack to a seat, said abruptly,
+but politely--more as a request than a demand:
+
+"I have a question to ask you, and you will please tell me the truth.
+How much money do you want, and what do you want it for?"
+
+Jack bit his lip. He wanted money, and he wanted it badly, but the
+tailor had no right to pry into his private affairs--certainly not in
+this way.
+
+"Well, that was something I was talking to Uncle Peter about," he
+rejoined stiffly. "I suppose you must have overheard."
+
+"Yes, I did. Go on--how much money do you want, and what do you want it
+for?"
+
+"But, Mr. Cohen, I don't think I ought to bother you with my troubles.
+They wouldn't interest you."
+
+"Now, my dear young man, you will please not misunderstand me. You are
+very intelligent, and you are very honest, and you always say what is in
+your heart; I have heard you do it many times. Now say it to me."
+
+There was no mistaking the tailor's earnestness. It evidently was not
+mere curiosity which prompted him. It was something else. Jack wondered
+vaguely if the Jew wanted to turn money-lender at a big percentage.
+
+"Why do you want to know?" he asked; more to gain time to fathom his
+purpose than with any intention of giving him the facts.
+
+Isaac went to his desk, opened with great deliberation an ebony box,
+took out two cigars, offered one to Jack, leaned over the lamp until his
+own was alight, and took the chair opposite Jack's. All this time Jack
+sat watching him as a child does a necromancer, wondering what he meant
+to do next.
+
+"Why do I want to know, Mr. Breen? Well, I will tell you. I have loved
+Mr. Grayson for a great many years. When he goes out in the morning he
+always looks through the glass window and waves his hand. If I am not in
+sight, he opens the door and calls inside, 'Ah, good-morning, Isaac.' At
+night, when he comes home, he waves his hand again. I know every line in
+his face, and it is always a happy face. Once or twice a week he comes
+in here, and we talk. That is his chair--the one you are sitting in.
+Once or twice a week I go up and sit in his chair and talk. In all the
+years I have known him I have only seen him troubled once or twice. Then
+I asked him the reason, and he told me. To-day I heard you speak about
+some money you wanted, and then I saw that something had gone wrong.
+After I left he came downstairs and passed my window and did not look
+in. I watched him go up the street, he walked very slow, and his head
+was down on his chest. I did not like it. A little while ago he came
+back; I went out to meet him. I said, 'Mr. Grayson, what troubles you?'
+And he said--'Nothing, Isaac, thank you,' and went upstairs. That is the
+first time in all the years I know him that he answered me like that.
+So now I ask you once more--how much money do you want, and what do
+you want it for? When I know this, then I will know what troubles Mr.
+Grayson. There is always a woman or a sum of money at the bottom of
+every complication. Mr. Grayson never worries over either. I do not
+believe you do, but I have had many surprises in my life."
+
+Jack had heard him through without interruption. Most of it--especially
+Cohen's affection for Peter--he had known before. It was the last
+statement that roused him.
+
+"Well, if you must know, Mr. Cohen--it is not for myself, but for a
+friend."
+
+The Jew smiled. He saw that the young man had told the truth. Peter's
+confidence in the boy, then, need not be shaken.
+
+"And how much money do you need for your friend?" His eyes were still
+reading Jack.
+
+"Well, a very large sum." Jack did not like the cross-examination, but
+somehow he could not resent it.
+
+"But, my dear young man, will you not tell me? If you buy a coat, do you
+not want to know the price? If you pay for an indiscretion, is not the
+sum named in the settlement?"
+
+"Ten thousand dollars."
+
+There was no change in the Jew's face. The smile did not alter.
+
+"And this is the money that Mr. Grayson tried to borrow for you, and
+failed? Is it not so?"
+
+Jack nodded.
+
+"And you have tried everywhere to get it yourself? All the afternoon you
+have been at it?" Still the same queer smile--one of confirmation, as if
+he had known it all the time.
+
+Again Jack nodded. Isaac was either a mind reader or he must have been
+listening at the keyhole when he poured out his heart to Peter.
+
+"Yes, that is what I thought when I saw you come in a little while ago,
+dragging your feet as if they were lead, and your eyes on the ground.
+The step and the eye, Mr. Breen, if you did but know it, make a very
+good commercial agency. When the eye is bright and the walk is quick,
+your customer has the money to pay either in his pocket or in his bank;
+when the step is dull and sluggish, you take a risk; when the eye looks
+about with an anxious glance and the step is stealthy, and then when you
+take the measure for the coat, both go out dancing, you may never get
+a penny. But that is only to tell you how I know," the tailor chuckled
+softly. "And now one thing more"--he was serious now--"when must you
+have this ten thousand dollars?"
+
+"Before Monday night."
+
+"In cash?"
+
+"In cash or something I can get cash on."
+
+The tailor rose from his seat with a satisfied air--he had evidently
+reached the point he had been striving for--laid the stump of his cigar
+on the edge of the mantel, crossed the room, fumbled in the side pocket
+of a coat which hung on a nail in an open closet; drew out a small
+key; sauntered leisurely to his desk, all the while crooning a tune to
+himself--Jack following his every movement, wondering what it all meant,
+and half regretting that he had not kept on to the ferry instead of
+wasting his time. Here he unlocked a drawer, took out a still smaller
+key--a flat one this time--removed some books and a small Barye bronze
+tiger from what appeared to be a high square table, rolled back the
+cloth, bringing into view an old-fashioned safe, applied the key and
+swung back a heavy steel door. Here, still crooning his song in a low
+key, dropping it and picking it up again as he moved--quite as does the
+grave-digger in "Hamlet"--he drew forth a long, flat bundle and handed
+it to Jack.
+
+"Take them, Mr. Breen, and put them in your inside pocket. There are ten
+United States Government bonds. If these Breen people will not lend you
+the amount of money you want, take them to Mr. Grayson's bank. Only do
+not tell him I gave them to you. I bought them yesterday and was going
+to lock them up in my safe deposit vault, only I could not leave my
+shop. Oh, you needn't look so scared. They are good," and he loosened
+the wrapper.
+
+Jack sprang from his seat. For a moment he could not speak.
+
+"But, Mr. Cohen! Do you know I haven't any security to offer you, and
+that I have only my salary and--"
+
+"Have I asked you for any?" Isaac replied with a slight shrug, a
+quizzical smile crossing his face.
+
+"No--but--"
+
+"Ah, then, we will not talk about it. You are young--you are
+hard-working; you left a very rich home on Fifth Avenue to go and live
+in a dirty hotel in a country village--all because you were honest; you
+risked your life to save your employer; and now you want to go into debt
+to save a friend. Ah--you see, I know all about you, my dear Mr. John
+Breen. Mr. Grayson has told me, and if he had not, I could read your
+face. No--no--no--we will not talk about such things as cent per cent
+and security. No--no--I am very glad I had the bonds where I could get
+at them quick. There now--do you run home as fast as you can and tell
+your friend. He is more unhappy than anybody."
+
+Jack had his breath now and he had also made up his mind. Every drop of
+blood in his body was in revolt. Take money from a Jew tailor whom he
+had not seen half a dozen times; with whom he had no business relations
+or dealings, or even social acquaintance?
+
+He laid the bonds back on the desk.
+
+"I cannot take them, Mr. Cohen. I thank you most sincerely, but--no--you
+must not give them to me. I--"
+
+Isaac wheeled suddenly and drew himself up. His little mouse eyes were
+snapping, and his face fiery red.
+
+"You will not take them! Why?"
+
+"I don't know--I can't!"
+
+"I know!" he cried angrily, but with a certain dignity. "It is because
+I am a Jew. Not because I am a tailor--you have too much sense for
+that--but because I am a Jew!"
+
+"Oh, Mr. Cohen!"
+
+"Yes--I know--I see inside of you. I read you just as if you were a page
+in a book. Who taught you to think that? Not your Uncle Peter; he loves
+me--I love him. Who taught you such nonsense?" His voice had risen with
+every sentence. In his indignation he looked twice his size. "Is not
+my money as good as that man Breen's--who insults you when you go to
+him?--and who laughed at you? Have I laughed at you? Does Mr. Grayson
+laugh?"
+
+Jack tried to interrupt, but the tailor's words poured on.
+
+"And now let me tell you one thing more, Mr. John Breen. I do not give
+you the bonds. I give them to Mr. Grayson. Never once has he insulted me
+as you do now. All these years--fifteen years this winter--he has been
+my friend. And now when the boy whom he loves wants some money for
+a friend, and Mr. Grayson has none to give him, and I, who am
+Mr. Grayson's friend, come to help that boy out of his trouble,
+you--you--remember, you who have nothing to do with it--you turn up your
+nose and stop it all. Are you not ashamed of yourself?"
+
+Jack's eyes blazed. He was not accustomed to be spoken to in that way by
+anybody; certainly not by a tailor.
+
+"Then give them to Uncle Peter," Jack flung back. "See what he will
+say."
+
+"No, I will not give them to your Uncle Peter. It will spoil everything
+with me if he knows about it. He always does things for me behind my
+back. He never lets me know. Now I shall do something for him behind his
+back and not let him know."
+
+"But--"
+
+"There are no buts! Listen to me, young man. I have no son; I have no
+grandchild; I live here alone--you see how small it is? Do you know
+why?--because I am happiest here. I know what it is to suffer, and I
+know what it is for other people to suffer. I have seen more misery in
+London in a year than you will see in your whole life. Those ten bonds
+there are of no more use to me than an extra coat of paint on that door.
+I have many more like them shut up in a box. Almost every day people
+come to me for money--sometimes they get it--oftener they do not. I have
+no money for beggars, or for idlers, or for liars. I have worked all
+my life, and shall to the end--and so must they. Now and then something
+happens like this. Now do you understand?"
+
+Again Jack tried to speak. His anger was gone; the pathos in the
+Jew's voice had robbed him of all antagonism, but Cohen would allow no
+interruptions.
+
+"And now one thing more before I let you speak, And then I am through.
+In all the years I have known Mr. Grayson, this is the first time I
+have ever been able to help him with the only thing I have that can help
+him--my money. If it was five times what you want, he should have it. Do
+you hear? Five times!"
+
+Isaac threw himself into his chair and sat with his chin in his hand.
+The last few words had come in a dry, choking whisper--as if they had
+been pumped from the depths of his heart.
+
+Jack instinctively put out his hand and touched the Jew's knee.
+
+"Will you please forgive me, Mr. Cohen--and will you please listen to
+me. I won't tell you a lie. I did feel that way at first--I do not now.
+I will take the bonds, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for
+them. You will never know how much good they will do; I have hardly
+slept since I knew I had to get this money. I am, perhaps, too tired to
+think straight, but you must do something for me--you must make it right
+with my own conscience. I want to sign something--give you something
+as security. I have only one thing in the world and that is some ore
+property my father left me in Maryland. At present it is worthless and
+may always be, but still it is all I have. Let me give you this. If it
+turns out to be of value you can take out your loan with interest and
+give me the rest; if it does not, I will pay it back as I can; it may be
+ten years or it may be less, but I will pay it if I live."
+
+Isaac raised his head. "Well, that is fair." His voice was again under
+control. "Not for me--but for you. Yes, that is quite right for you to
+feel that way. Next week you can bring in the papers." He picked up the
+bonds. "Now put these in your inside pocket and look out for them as you
+cross the ferry. Good-by."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+
+Jack strode out into the night, his mind in a whirl. No sense of elation
+over the money had possession of him. All his thoughts were on Isaac.
+What manner of man was this Jew? he kept asking himself in a sort of
+stunned surprise, who could handle his shears like a journeyman, talk
+like a savant, spend money like a prince, and still keep the heart of a
+child? Whoever heard of such an act of kindness; and so spontaneous and
+direct; reading his heart, sympathizing with him in his troubles--as his
+friend would have done--as his own father might have done.
+
+And with the thought of Cohen's supreme instantaneous response there
+followed with a rush of shame and self-humiliation that of his own
+narrow-mindedness, his mean prejudices, his hatred of the race, his
+questionings of Peter's intimacy, and his frequent comments on their
+acquaintance--the one thing he could never understand in his beloved
+mentor. Again Isaac's words rang in his ears. "Is it because I am a Jew?
+Who taught you such nonsense? Not your Uncle Peter--he loves me. I love
+him." And with them arose the vision of the man stretched to his full
+height, the light of the lamp glinting on his moist forehead, his
+bead-like eyes flashing in the rush of his anger.
+
+As to the sacrifice both he and Ruth had just made, and it was now
+final, this no longer troubled him. He had already weighed for her every
+side of the question, taking especial pains to discuss each phase of the
+subject, even going so far as to disagree with MacFarlane's opinion
+as to the worthlessness of the ore lands. But the dear child had never
+wavered.
+
+"No!--I don't care," she had answered with a toss of her head. "Let the
+land go if there is no other way. We can get on without it, my darling,
+and these poor people cannot." She had not, of course, if the truth must
+be told, weighed any of the consequences of what their double sacrifice
+might entail, nor had she realized the long years of work which might
+ensue, or the self-denial and constant anxiety attending its repayment.
+Practical questions on so large a scale had been outside the range of
+her experience. Hers was the spirit of Joan of old, who reckoned nothing
+of value but her ideal.
+
+Nor can we blame her. When your cheeks are twin roses; your hair black
+as a crow's wing and fine as silk; and your teeth--not one missing--so
+many seed pearls peeping from pomegranate lips; when your blood goes
+skipping and bubbling through your veins; when at night you sleep like
+a baby, and at morn you spring from your bed in the joy of another day;
+when there are two strong brown hands and two strong arms, and a great,
+loving, honest heart every bit your own; and when, too, there are crisp
+autumn afternoons to come, with gold and brown for a carpet, and long
+winter evenings, the fire-light dancing on the overhead rafters; and
+'way--'way--beyond this--somewhere in the far future there rises a
+slender spire holding a chime of bells, and beneath it a deep-toned
+organ--when this, I say, is, or will be, your own--the gold of the
+Indies is but so much tinkling brass, and Cleopatra's diadem a mere
+bauble with which to quiet a child.
+
+It was not until he was nearing Corklesville that the sense of the money
+really came to him. He knew what it would mean to Ruth and what her eyes
+would hold of gladness and relief. Suddenly there sprang to his lips an
+unbidden laugh, a spontaneous overflow from the joy of his heart; the
+first he had uttered for days. Ruth should know first. He would take her
+in his arms and tell her to hunt in all his pockets, and then he would
+kiss her and place the package in her hands. And then the two would go
+to Corinne. It would be late, and she would be in bed, perhaps, but that
+made no difference. Ruth would steal noiselessly upstairs; past where
+Garry lay, the flowers heaped upon his coffin, and Corinne would learn
+the glad tidings before to-morrow's sun. At last the ghost which had
+haunted them all these days was banished; her child would be safe, and
+Corinne would no longer have to hide her head.
+
+Once more the precious package became the dominant thought. Ten bonds!
+More than enough! What would McGowan say now? What would his Uncle
+Arthur say? He slipped his hand under his coat fondling the wrapper,
+caressing it as a lover does a long-delayed letter, as a prisoner does a
+key which is to turn darkness into light, as a hunted man a weapon which
+may save his life.
+
+It did not take Jack many minutes we may be sure to hurry from the
+station to Ruth's home. There it all happened just as he had planned and
+schemed it should--even to the kiss and the hunting for the package of
+bonds, and Ruth's cry of joy, and the walk through the starlight night
+to Corinne's, and the finding her upstairs; except that the poor woman
+was not yet in bed.
+
+"Who gave it to you, Jack?" Corinne asked in a tired voice.
+
+"A friend of Uncle Peter's."
+
+"You mean Mr. Grayson?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+There was no outburst, no cry of gratitude, no flood of long-pent-up
+tears. The storm had so crushed and bruised this plant that many days
+must elapse before it would again lift its leaves from the mud.
+
+"It was very good of Mr. Grayson, Jack," was all she said in answer, and
+then relapsed into the apathy which had been hers since the hour when
+the details of her husband's dishonesty had dropped from his lips.
+
+Poor girl! she had no delusions to sustain her. She knew right from
+wrong. Emotions never misled her. In her earlier years she and her
+mother had been accustomed to look things squarely in the face, and
+to work out their own careers; a game of chance, it is true, until her
+mother's marriage with the elder Breen; but they had both been honest
+careers, and they had owed no man a penny. Garry had fought the battle
+for her within the last few years, and in return she had loved him as
+much as she was able to love anybody but she had loved him as a man of
+honor, not as a thief. Now he had lied to her, had refused to listen to
+her pleadings, and the end had come. What was there left, and to whom
+should she now turn--she without a penny to her name--except to her
+stepfather, who had insulted and despised her. She had even been
+compelled to seek help from Ruth and Jack; and now at last to accept it
+from Mr. Grayson--he almost a stranger. These were the thoughts which,
+like strange nightmares, swept across her tired brain, taking grewsome
+shapes, each one more horrible than its predecessor.
+
+At the funeral, next day, she presented the same impassive front. Breen
+and her mother rode with her in the carriage to the church, and Jack and
+Ruth helped her alight, but she might have been made of stone so far
+as she evinced either sorrow or interest in what was taking place about
+her. And yet nothing had been omitted by friend or foe expressive of the
+grief and heart-felt sorrow the occasion demanded. Holker Morris sent a
+wreath of roses with a special letter to her, expressing his confidence
+in and respect for the man he had brought up from a boy. A committee was
+present from the Society of Architects to which Garry belonged; half
+a dozen of his old friends from the Magnolia were present, Biffy among
+them; the village Council and the Board of Church Trustees came in a
+body, and even McGowan felt it incumbent upon him to stand up during the
+service and assume the air of one who had been especially bereft. Nor
+were the notices in the country and city papers wanting in respect. "One
+of our most distinguished citizens--a man who has reached the topmost
+round of the ladder," etc., etc., one editorial began.
+
+It was only when the funeral was over, and she was once more at home,
+that she expressed the slightest concern. Then she laid her hand in
+Peter's and threw back her heavy crepe veil: "You have saved me from
+disgrace, Mr. Grayson," she said, in a low, monotonous voice, "and my
+little boy as well. I try to think that Garry must have been out of his
+mind when he took the money. He would not listen to me, and he would not
+tell me the truth. Jack is going to pay it back to-morrow, and nobody
+will ever know that my husband did wrong; but I couldn't let you go
+away without thanking you for having saved us. My stepfather wouldn't
+help--nobody would help but you. I don't know why you did it. It seems
+so strange. I had given up all hope when Jack came back last night."
+
+Peter sat perfectly still, his hand on her wrist, where he had placed
+it to show by a kindly touch his sympathy for her. Not knowing what her
+lips would tell, he had begun to pat the back of her black glove when
+she started to speak, as one would quiet a child who pours out its
+troubles, but he stopped in amazement as she proceeded. He had not
+loaned her a dollar, nor had Jack, as he knew, succeeded in getting a
+penny, unless by a miracle he had met some one on the train who had come
+to his rescue.
+
+What did the poor woman mean? Disgrace! Trouble! Garry taking money, and
+Jack paying it back on Monday! The horror of her husband's sudden
+death had undoubtedly turned her mind, distorting some simple business
+transaction into a crime, or she would not be thanking him for something
+that he had never done. This talk of Jack's could only have been a ruse
+to keep up her spirits and give her false strength until she had passed
+through the agonizing ordeal of the funeral--he accepting all her
+delusions as true--as one does when an insane person is to be coaxed
+back into a cell. These thoughts went whirling through his mind, as
+Peter watched her face closely, wondering what would be his course. He
+had not met her often, yet he could see that she was terribly changed.
+He noticed, too, that all through the interview she had not shed a tear.
+Yes--there was no question that her mind was unbalanced. The best plan
+would be to bring the interview to an end as quickly as possible, so she
+should not dwell too long on her sorrow.
+
+"If I have done anything to help you, my dear lady," he said with gentle
+courtesy, rising from his chair and taking her hand again, "or can do
+anything for you in the future, I shall be most happy, and you must
+certainly let me know. And now, may I not ask you to go upstairs and
+lie down. You are greatly fatigued--I assure you I feel for you most
+deeply."
+
+But his mind was still disturbed. Ruth and Jack wondered at his quiet
+as he sat beside them on the way back to MacFarlane's--gazing out of
+the carriage window, his clean-shaven, placid face at rest, his straight
+thin lips close shut. He hardly spoke until they reached the house,
+and then it was when he helped Ruth alight. Once inside, however,
+he beckoned Jack, and without a word led him alone into MacFarlane's
+study--now almost dismantled for the move to Morfordsburg--and closed
+the door.
+
+"Mrs. Minott has just told me the most extraordinary thing, Jack--an
+unbelievable story. Is she quite sane?"
+
+Jack scanned Peter's face and read the truth. Corinne had evidently told
+him everything. This was the severest blow of all.
+
+"She supposed you knew, sir;" answered Jack quietly, further concealment
+now being useless.
+
+"Knew what?" Peter was staring at him with wide-open eyes.
+
+"What she told you, sir," faltered Jack.
+
+The old man threw up his hands in horror.
+
+"What! You really mean to tell me, Jack, that Minott has been stealing?"
+
+Jack bent his head and his eyes sought the floor. He could hardly have
+been more ashamed had he himself been the culprit.
+
+"God bless my soul! From whom?"
+
+"The church funds--he was trustee. The meeting is to-morrow, and it
+would all have come out."
+
+A great light broke over Peter--as when a window is opened in a darkened
+room in which one has bees stumbling.
+
+"And you have walked the streets trying to beggar yourself, not to help
+MacFarlane but to keep Minott out of jail!" Amazement had taken the
+place of horror.
+
+"He was my friend, sir--and there are Corinne and the little boy. It is
+all over now. I have the money--that is, I have got something to raise
+it on."
+
+"Who gave it to you?" He was still groping, blinded by the revelations,
+his gray eyes staring at Jack, his voice trembling, beads of
+perspiration moistening his forehead.
+
+"Isaac Cohen. He has given me ten Government bonds. They are in that
+drawer behind you. He overheard what I said to you yesterday about
+wanting some money, and was waiting for me when I went downstairs. He
+gave them to me because he loved you, he said. I am to give him my ore
+property as security, although I told him it was of no value."
+
+Peter made a step forward, stretching out a hand as if to steady
+himself. His face grew white then suddenly flushed. His breath seemed to
+have left him.
+
+"And Cohen did this!" he gasped--"and you for Minott! Why--why--"
+
+Jack caught him in his arms, thinking he was about to fall.
+
+"No! No! I'm all right," he cried, patting Jack's shoulder. "It's
+you!--you--YOU, my splendid boy! Oh!--how I love you!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+
+The following morning Jack walked into Arthur Breen's private office
+while his uncle was reading his mail, and laid the package containing
+the ten bonds on his desk. So far as their borrowing capacity was
+concerned, he could have walked up the marble steps of any broker's
+office or bank on either side of the street--that is, wherever he was
+known, and he was still remembered by many of them--thrust the package
+through the cashier's window, and walked down again with a certified
+check for their face value in his pocket.
+
+But the boy had other ends in view. Being human, and still smarting
+under his uncle's ridicule and contempt, he wanted to clear his own
+name and character; being loyal to his friend's memory and feeling that
+Garry's reputation must be at least patched up--and here in Breen's
+place and before the man who had so bitterly denounced it; and being
+above all tender-hearted and gallant where a woman, and a sorrowing
+one, was concerned, he must give Corinne and the child a fair and square
+start in the house of Breen, with no overdue accounts to vex her
+except such petty ones as a small life insurance and a few uncollected
+commissions could liquidate.
+
+These much-to-be-desired results could only be attained when the senior
+member of the firm was made acquainted with the fact that, after all,
+Garry's debts could be paid and his reputation saved. The money must,
+therefore, be borrowed of Arthur Breen & Co. His uncle would know then
+beyond doubt; his axiom being that the only thing that talked loud
+enough ever to make him listen was "money."
+
+It was therefore with a sense of supreme satisfaction, interwoven with
+certain suppressed exuberance born of freedom and self-reliance, that
+Jack, in answer to Breen's "What's this?" when his eyes rested on the
+bundle of bonds, replied in an off-hand but entirely respectful manner:
+
+"Ten United States Government bonds, sir; and will you please give me
+a check drawn to my order for this amount?" and he handed the astounded
+broker the slip of paper McGowan had given him, on which was scrawled
+the total of the overdue vouchers.
+
+Breen slipped off the rubber band, spread out the securities as a
+lady opens a fan, noted the title, date, and issue, and having assured
+himself of their genuineness, asked in a confused, almost apologetic
+way, as he touched a bell to summon the cashier:
+
+"Where did you get these? Did MacFarlane give them to you?"
+
+"No--a friend," answered Jack casually, and without betraying a trace of
+either excitement or impatience.
+
+"On what?" snapped Breen, something of his old dictatorial manner
+asserting itself.
+
+"On my word," replied Jack, with a note of triumph, which he could not
+wholly conceal.
+
+The door opened and the cashier entered. Breen handed him the bonds,
+gave instructions about the drawing of the check, and turned to Jack
+again. He was still suffering from amazement, the boy's imperturbable
+manner being responsible for most of it.
+
+"And does this pay Minott's debts?" he asked in a more conciliatory
+tone.
+
+"Every dollar," replied Jack.
+
+Breen looked up. Where had the boy got this poise and confidence, he
+asked himself, as a flush of pride swept through him; after all, Jack
+was of his own blood, his brother's son.
+
+"And I suppose now that it's you who will be doing the walking instead
+of Minott's creditors?" Breen inquired with a frown that softened into a
+smile as he gazed the longer into Jack's calm eyes.
+
+"Yes, for a time," rejoined Jack in the same even, unhurried voice.
+
+The clerk brought in the slip of paper, passed it to his employer, who
+examined it closely, and who then affixed his signature.
+
+"If you get any more of that kind of stuff and want help in the new
+work, let me know."
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Jack, folding up the precious scrap and slipping
+it into his pocket.
+
+Breen waited until Jack had closed the door, pulled from a pigeon-hole
+a bundle of papers labelled Maryland Mining Company, touched another
+button summoning his stenographer, and said in a low voice to himself:
+
+"Yes, I have it! Something is going on in that ore property. I'll write
+and find out."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+
+The Board of Church Trustees met, as customary, on Monday night, but
+there was no business transacted except the passing of a resolution
+expressing its deep regret over the loss of "our distinguished
+fellow-townsman, whose genius has added so much to the beautifying of
+our village, and whose uprightness of character will always be," etc.,
+etc.
+
+Neither Jack nor McGowan, nor any one representing their interests, was
+present. A hurried glance over Garry's check and bank-books showed that
+the money to pay McGowan's vouchers--the exact sum--had been drawn from
+the fund and deposited to Garry's personal credit in his own bank in New
+York. Former payments to McGowan had been made in this way. There was
+therefore no proof that this sum had been diverted into illegitimate
+channels.
+
+McGowan was paid that same Monday afternoon, Jack bringing the papers
+to the contractor's office, where they were signed in the presence of
+Murphy and his clerk.
+
+And so the matter was closed, each and every one concerned being
+rejoiced over the outcome.
+
+"Mr. Minott (it was 'Mr.' now) had a big stack of money over at his
+stepfather's bank," was Murphy's statement to a group around a table
+in one of the bar-rooms of the village. "He was in a big deal, so Mac
+thinks, and didn't want to haul any of it out. So when he died Mr. Breen
+never squawked--just went over and told the old man that Mac wanted the
+money and to fork out; and he did, like a good one. I seen the check, I
+tell ye. Oh! they're all in together. Mr. Breen's kin to them New York
+folks, and so is Mrs. Minott. He's her father, I hear. I think Mac shot
+off his mouth too quick, and I told him so, but he was so het up he
+couldn't keep still. Why, them fellers has got more money than they can
+throw away. Mac sees his mistake now. Heard him tell Mr. Breen that Mr.
+Minott was the whitest man he ever knowed; and you bet yer life he's
+right."
+
+Nor was Murphy's eulogium the only one heard in the village. Within a
+week after the funeral a committee was appointed to gather funds for
+the placing of a stained-glass window in the new church in memory of the
+young architect who had designed and erected it; with the result
+that Holker Morris headed the subscription list, an example which was
+followed by many of the townspeople, including McGowan and Murphy and
+several others of their class, as well as various members of the Village
+Council, together with many of Garry's friends in New York, all of which
+was duly set forth in the county and New York papers; a fact which so
+impressed the head of the great banking firm of Arthur Breen & Co.
+that he immediately sent his personal check for a considerable amount,
+desiring, as he stated at a club dinner that same night, to pay some
+slight tribute to that brilliant young fellow, Minott, who, you know,
+married Mrs. Breen's daughter--a lovely girl, brought up in my own
+house, and who has now come home again to live with us.
+
+Peter listened attentively while Jack imparted these details, a peculiar
+smile playing about the corners of his eyes and mouth, his only comment
+at the strangeness of such posthumous honors to such a man, but he
+became positively hilarious when Jack reached that part in the narrative
+in which the head of the house of Breen figured as chief contributor.
+
+"And you mean to tell me, Jack," he roared, "that Breen has pushed
+himself into poor Minott's stained-glass window, with the saints and the
+gold crowns, and--oh, Jack, you can't be serious!"
+
+"That's what the Rector tells me, sir."
+
+"But, Jack--forgive me, my boy, but I have never in all my life heard
+anything so delicious. Don't you think if Holker spoke to the artist
+that Mr. Iscariot, or perhaps the estimable Mr. Ananias, or Mr.
+Pecksniff, or Uriah Heep might also be tucked away in the background?"
+And with this the old fellow, in spite of his sympathy for Jack and the
+solemnity of the occasion, threw back his head and laughed so long and
+so heartily that Mrs. McGuffey made excuse to enter the room to find out
+what it was all about.
+
+With the subletting of Garry's house and the shipping of his
+furniture--that which was not sold--to her step-father's house, Jack's
+efforts on behalf of his dead friend and his family came to a close.
+Ruth helped Corinne pack her personal belongings, and Jack found a
+tenant who moved in the following week. Willing hands are oftenest
+called upon, and so it happened that the two lovers bore all the brunt
+of the domestic upheaval.
+
+Their own packing had long since been completed; not a difficult matter
+in a furnished house; easy always to Ruth and her father, whose nomadic
+life was marked by constant changes. Indeed, the various boxes, cases,
+crates, and barrels containing much of the linen, china, and glass, to
+say nothing of the portieres, rugs and small tables, and the whole of
+Ruth's bedroom furniture, had already been loaded aboard a box car
+and sent on its way to Morfordsburg, there to await the arrival of the
+joyous young girl, whose clear brain and competent hands would bring
+order out of chaos, no matter how desolate the interior and the
+environment.
+
+For these dainty white hands with their pink nails and soft palms, so
+wonderfully graceful over teapot or fan, could wield a broom or even
+a dust-pan did necessity require. Ruth in a ball gown, all frills and
+ruffles and lace, was a sight to charm the eye of any man, but Ruth in
+calico and white apron, her beautiful hair piled on top of her still
+more beautiful head; her skirts pinned up and her dear little feet
+pattering about, was a sight not only for men but for gods as well. Jack
+loved her in this costume, and so would you had you known her. I myself,
+old and wrinkled as I am, have never forgotten how I rapped at the wrong
+door one morning--the kitchen door--and found her in that same costume,
+with her arms bare to the elbows and covered with flour, where she had
+been making a "sally lunn" for daddy. Nor can I forget her ringing laugh
+as she saw the look of astonishment on my face, or my delight when she
+ordered me inside and made me open the oven door so that she could slide
+in the finished product without burning her fingers.
+
+The packing up of their own household impedimenta complete, there came a
+few days of leisure--the first breathing spell that either MacFarlane or
+Jack, or Ruth, too, for that matter, had had for weeks. MacFarlane, in
+view of the coming winter--a long and arduous one, took advantage of the
+interim and went south, to his club, for a few days' shooting--a rare
+luxury for him of late years. Jack made up his mind to devote every
+one of his spare hours to getting better acquainted with Ruth, and that
+young woman, not wishing to be considered either neglectful or selfish,
+determined to sacrifice every hour of the day and as much of the night
+as was proper and possible to getting better acquainted with Jack; and
+the two had a royal time in the doing.
+
+Jack, too, had another feeling about it all. It seemed to him that
+he had a debt of gratitude--the rasping word had long since lost its
+edge--to discharge; and that he owed her every leisure hour he could
+steal from his work. He had spent days and nights in the service of his
+friends, and had, besides, laid the burden of their anxieties upon her.
+He would pay her in return twice as many days of gladness to make up
+for the pain she had so cheerfully borne. What could he do to thank
+her?--how discharge the obligation? Every hour he would tell her, and
+in different ways--by his tenderness, by his obedience to her slightest
+wish, anticipating her every want--how much he appreciated her
+unselfishness, and how much better, if that were possible, he loved her
+for her sacrifice. Nor was there, when the day came, any limit to his
+devotion or to her enjoyment. There were rides over the hills in the
+soft September mornings--Indian summer in its most dreamy and summery
+state; there were theatre parties of two and no more; when they sat in
+the third row in the balcony, where it was cheaper, and where, too, they
+wouldn't have to speak to anybody else. There were teas in Washington
+Square, where nobody but themselves and their hostess were present, as
+well as other unexpected outings, in which all the rest of the world was
+forgotten.
+
+The house, too, was all their own. Nobody upstairs; nobody downstairs
+but the servants; even the emptiness of daddy's room, so grewsome in the
+old days, brought a certain feeling of delight. "Just you and me," as
+they said a dozen times a day to each other. And then the long talks on
+that blessed old sofa with its cushions--(what a wonderful old sofa it
+was, and how much it had heard); talks about when she was a girl--as
+if she had ever passed the age; and when he was a boy; and of what
+they both thought and did in that blissful state of innocence and
+inexperience. Talks about the bungalow they would build some day--that
+bungalow which Garry had toppled over--and how it would be furnished;
+and whether they could not persuade the landlord to sell them the dear
+sofa and move it out there bodily; talks about their life during the
+coming winter, and whether she should visit Aunt Felicia's--and if so,
+whether Jack would come too; and if she didn't, wouldn't it be just as
+well for Jack to have some place in Morfordsburg where he could find a
+bed in case he got storm-bound and couldn't get back to the cabin that
+same night. All kinds and conditions and sorts of talks that only two
+lovers enjoy, and for which only two lovers can find the material.
+
+Sometimes she thought he might be too lonely and neglected at the
+log-cabin. Then she would make believe she was going to ask daddy to
+let them be married right away, insisting that two rooms were enough
+for them, and that she herself would do the washing and ironing and the
+cooking, at which Jack would laugh over the joy of it all, conjuring up
+in his mind the pattern of apron she would wear and how pretty her bare
+arms would be bending over the tub, knowing all the time that he would
+no more have allowed her to do any one of these things than he would
+have permitted her to chop the winter's wood.
+
+Most of these day dreams, plots, and imaginings were duly reported by
+letter to Miss Felicia to see what she thought of them all. For the
+dear lady's opposition had long since broken down. In these letters
+Ruth poured out her heart as she did to no one except Jack; each missive
+interspersed with asides as to how dear Jack was, and how considerate,
+and how it would not be a very long time before she would soon get the
+other half of the dear lady's laces, now that daddy and Jack (the boy
+had been given an interest in the business) were going to make lots of
+money on the new work--to all of which Miss Felicia replied that love
+in a garret was what might be expected of fools, but that love in a
+log-cabin could only be practised by lunatics.
+
+It was toward the close of this pre-honey-moon--it lasted only ten
+days, but it was full moon every hour and no clouds--when, early one
+morning--before nine o'clock, really--a night message was handed to
+Jack. It had been sent to the brick office, but the telegraph boy,
+finding that building closed and abandoned, had delivered it to Mrs.
+Hicks, who, discovering it to be sealed, forwarded it at once, and by
+the same hand, to the MacFarlane house, known now to everybody as
+the temporary headquarters, especially in the day time, of the young
+superintendent who was going to marry the daughter--"and there ain't a
+nicer, nor a better, nor a prettier."
+
+On this morning, then, the two had planned a day in the woods back of
+the hills; Ruth's mare was to be hooked up to a hired buggy, and such
+comforts as a bucket of ice, lettuce sandwiches thin as wafers, a cold
+chicken, a spirit lamp, teapot, and cups and saucers, not to mention a
+big shawl for my sweetheart to sit on, and another smaller one for her
+lovely shoulders when the cool of the evening came on, were to be stowed
+away under the seat.
+
+"That telegram is from Aunt Felicia, I know," said Ruth. "She has set
+her heart on my coming up to Geneseo, but I cannot go, Jack. I don't
+want to be a minute away from you."
+
+Jack had now broken the seal and was scanning the contents. Instantly
+his face grew grave.
+
+"No--it's not from Aunt Felicia," he said in a thoughtful tone, his eyes
+studying the despatch. "I don't know whom it's from; it is signed T.
+Ballantree; I never heard of him before. He wants me to meet him at the
+Astor House to-day at eleven o'clock. Some business of your father's, I
+expect--see, it's dated Morfordsburg. Too bad, isn't it, blessed--but
+I must go. Here, boy"--this to the messenger, who was moving out of the
+door--"stop at the livery stable as you go by and tell them I won't want
+the horse and wagon, that I'm going to New York. All in a life-time, my
+blessed--but I'm dreadfully sorry."
+
+"And you MUST go? Isn't it mean, Jack--and it's such a lovely day."
+
+"Yes--but it can't be helped. What are you going to do with the
+sandwiches and chicken and things? And you had so much trouble making
+them. And you will be lonely, too."
+
+"Why, I shall keep them till you come back, and we'll have a lovely
+feast at home," she said with a light laugh in her effort to hide her
+feelings. "Oh, no, I shan't be lonely. You won't be gone long, Jack,
+will you, dear?"
+
+"I hope not." His mind must no longer rest on the outing. There was work
+to do for Ruth as well as himself. His play time had come to a sudden
+end; the bell had rung and recess was over. He looked at his watch;
+there was just time to catch the train.
+
+She followed him to the door and kissed her hand as he swung down the
+path and through the gate, and watched him until he had disappeared
+behind the long wall of the factory; then she went in, put away the
+sandwiches and chicken, and the teapot and the cups and saucers, and
+emptied the ice.
+
+Yes, the day was spoiled, she said to herself--part of it anyway; but
+the night would come, and with it Jack would burst in with news of all
+he had seen and done, and they would each have an end of the table;
+their last dinner in the old home, where everything on which her eyes
+rested revived some memory of their happiness. But then there would be
+other outings at Morfordsburg, and so what mattered one day when there
+were so many left? And with this thought her tears dried up and she
+began to sing again as she busied herself about the house--bursting
+into a refrain from one of the operas she loved, or crooning some of the
+old-time melodies which her black mammy had taught her when a child.
+
+But now for Jack and what the day held for him of wonders and surprises.
+
+Some pessimistic wiseacre has said that all the dire and dreadful things
+in life drop out of a clear sky; that it is the unexpected which is to
+be feared, and that the unknown bridges are the ones in which dangers
+lurk and where calamity is to be feared.
+
+The optimistic Scribe bites his derisive thumb at such ominous
+prophecies. Once in a while some rain does fall, and now and then a
+roar of thunder, or sharp slash of sleet will split the air during our
+journey through life, but the blue is always above, and the clouds but
+drifting ships that pass and are gone. In and through them all the warm,
+cheery sun fights on for joyous light and happy endings, and almost
+always wins.
+
+This time the unexpected took shape in the person of T. Ballantree, from
+Morfordsburg--a plain, direct, straight-to-the-point kind of a man,
+whom Jack found in the corridor of the Astor House with his eyes on the
+clock.
+
+"You are very prompt, Mr. Breen," he said in clear-cut tones, "so am I.
+What I wanted to see you about is just this: You own some ore property
+three miles east of the Maryland Mining Company's lay-out. Am I right?"
+
+"Yes, you are right," answered Jack with a comprehensive glance which
+began at the speaker's black derby hat, traversed his suit of store
+clothes, and ended in a pair of boots which still showed some traces of
+yellow clay, as if their wearer had been prospecting the day before.
+
+"Are there any encumbrances on the property--any mortgages or liens not
+yet recorded? I don't mean taxes; I find they have been paid," continued
+Ballantree.
+
+Jack shifted his seat so he could get a better view of the speaker's
+face, and said in answer:
+
+"Why do you ask?"
+
+"Because," said the man with entire frankness, "we understand that the
+Maryland Mining Company have an option on it. If that is so, I'll stop
+where I am. We don't care to buck up against Breen & Co."
+
+"No," answered Jack, now convinced of the man's sincerity; "no--it's
+free and clear except for a loan of ten thousand dollars held by a
+friend, which can be paid off at any time."
+
+Ballantree ducked his head in token of his satisfaction over the
+statement and asked another question--this time with his eyes straight
+on Jack.
+
+"Is it for sale--now--for money?"
+
+It was Jack's turn to focus his gaze. This was the first time any one
+had asked that question in the memory of the oldest inhabitant.
+
+"Well, that depends on what it is wanted for, Mr. Ballantree," laughed
+Jack. He had already begun to like the man. "And perhaps, too, on who
+wants it. Is it for speculation?"
+
+Ballantree laughed in return. "No--not a square foot of it. I am the
+general manager of the Guthrie Steel Company with head-quarters here
+in New York. We have been looking for mineral up in that section of
+the State, and struck yours. I might as well tell you that I made the
+borings myself."
+
+"Are you an expert?" asked Jack. The way people searched his title,
+examined his tax receipts and rammed hypodermics into his property
+without permission was, to say the least, amusing.
+
+"Been at it thirty years," replied Ballantree in a tone that settled all
+doubt on the subject.
+
+"It is a low-grade ore, you know," explained Jack, feeling bound to
+express his own doubts of its value.
+
+"No, it's a high-grade ore," returned Ballantree with some positiveness;
+"that is, it was when we got down into it. But I'm not here to talk
+about percentage--that may come in later. I came to save Mr. Guthrie's
+time. I was to bring you down to see him if you were the man and
+everything was clean, and if you'll go--and I wouldn't advise you to
+stay away--I'll meet you at his office at twelve o'clock sharp; there's
+his card. It isn't more than four blocks from here."
+
+Jack took the card, looked on both sides of it, tucked it in his
+inside pocket, and said he would come, with pleasure. Ballantree nodded
+contentedly, pulled a cigar from his upper breast pocket, bit off one
+end, slid a match along his trousers until it burst into flame, held it
+to the unbitten end until it was a-light, blew out the blaze, adjusted
+his derby and with another nod to Jack--and the magic words--"Twelve
+sharp"--passed out into Broadway.
+
+Ten minutes later--perhaps five, for Jack arrived on the run--Jack
+bounded into Peter's bank, and slipping ahead of the line of depositors,
+thrust his overheated face into the opening. There he gasped out a bit
+of information that came near cracking the ostrich egg in two, so wide
+was the smile that overspread Peter's face.
+
+"What--really! You don't say so! Telegraphed you? Who?"
+
+"A Mr. Ballantree," panted Jack. "I have just left him at the Astor
+House."
+
+"I never heard of him. Look out, my boy--don't sign anything until
+you--"
+
+"Oh, he is only the general manager. It's a Mr. Guthrie--Robert A.
+Guthrie--who wants it. He sent Mr. Ballantree."
+
+"Robert Guthrie! The banker! That's our director; that's the man I told
+you of. I gave him your address. Go and see him by all means and tell
+him everything. Talk just as you would to me. One of the best men in the
+Street. Not a crooked hair on his head, Jack. Well--well--this does look
+like business."
+
+"Pardon me, sir, one minute, if you please--" interpolated Peter to an
+insistent depositor whom Jack in his impatience had crowded out. "Now
+your book--thank you--And Jack"--this over the hat of the depositor, his
+face a marvel of delight--"come to my rooms at four--wait for me--I'll
+be there."
+
+Out again and around the block; anything to kill time until the precious
+hour should arrive. Lord!--how the minutes dragged. The hands of the old
+clock of Trinity spire must be stuck together. Any other day it would
+take him at least half an hour to walk up Wall Street, down Broadway to
+the Battery and back again--now ten minutes was enough. Would the minute
+hand never climb up the face to the hour hand and the two get together
+at twelve, and so end his impatience. He wished now he had telegraphed
+to Ruth not to expect him until the late afternoon train. He thought
+he would do it now. Then he changed his mind. No; it would be better to
+await the result of his interview. Yet still the clock dragged on, and
+still he waited for the magic hour. Ten minutes to twelve--five--then
+twelve precisely--but by this time he was closeted inside Mr. Guthrie's
+private office.
+
+Peter also found the hours dragging. What could it all mean? he kept
+asking himself as he handed back the books through his window, his eyes
+wandering up to the old-fashioned clock. Robert Guthrie the banker--a
+REAL banker--had sent for the boy--Guthrie, who never made a too hurried
+move. Could it be possible that good fortune was coming to Jack?--that
+he and Ruth--that--Ah! old fellow, you nearly made a mistake with the
+amount of that check! No--there was no use in supposing. He would just
+wait for Jack's story.
+
+When he reached home he was still in the same overwrought, anxious
+state--hoping against hope. When would the boy come? he asked himself a
+hundred times as he fussed about his room, nipping off the dead leaves
+from his geraniums, drawing the red curtains back; opening and shutting
+the books, only to throw himself into his chair at last. Should he smoke
+until four?--should he read? What a fool he was making of himself! It
+was astonishing that one of his age should be so excited over a mere
+business proposition--really not a proposition at all, when he came to
+think of it--just an ordinary question asked. He must compose himself.
+It was quite absurd for him to go on this way. But would the boy NEVER
+come? It was four o'clock now--or would be in ten minutes, and--and--
+
+Yes!
+
+He sprang toward the door and caught the young fellow in his arms.
+
+"Oh! such good news! Mr. Guthrie's bought the property!" roared Jack.
+
+He had made one long spring from the sidewalk up three flights of steps
+to the old-fashioned door, but he still had breath to gasp the glad
+tidings.
+
+"Bought!--Who?--Not Guthrie!"
+
+"Yes--I am to sign the papers to-morrow. Oh!--Uncle Peter, I am half
+crazy with delight!"
+
+"Hurrah," shouted Peter. "HURRAH, I say! This IS good news!
+Well!--Well!" He was still bending over him, his eyes blinking in his
+joy, scurries of irradiating smiles chasing each other over his face.
+Never had the old gentleman been in such a state.
+
+"And how much, Jack?"
+
+"Guess."
+
+"Will there be enough to pay Isaac's ten thousand?"
+
+"More!" Jack was nearly bursting, but he still held in.
+
+"Twenty thousand?" This came timidly, fearing that it was too much, and
+yet hoping that it might be true.
+
+"More!" The strain on Jack was getting dangerous.
+
+"Twenty-five thousand?" Peter's voice now showed that he was convinced
+that this sum was too small.
+
+"More! Go on, Uncle Peter! Go on!"
+
+"Thirty-five thousand, Jack?" It was getting hot; certainly this was the
+limit. Was there ever such luck?
+
+"Yes!--and five thousand more! Forty thousand dollars and one-fifth
+interest in the output! Just think what Ruth will say. I've just sent
+her a telegram. Oh!--what a home-coming!"
+
+And then, with Peter drawn up beside him, his face radiant and his eyes
+sparkling with joy, he poured out the story of the morning. How he had
+begun by telling Mr. Guthrie of his own and Mr. MacFarlane's opinion of
+the property, as he did not want to sell anything he himself considered
+worthless. How he had told him frankly what Peter had said of his--Mr.
+Guthrie's--fairness and honesty; how he was at work for his prospective
+father-in-law, the distinguished engineer of whom Mr. Guthrie had no
+doubt heard--at which the gentleman nodded. How this property had been
+given him by his father, and was all he had in the world except what he
+could earn; how he already owed ten thousand dollars and had pledged the
+property as part payment, and how, in view of these facts, he would
+take any sum over ten thousand dollars that Mr. Guthrie would give him,
+provided Mr. Guthrie thought it was worth that much.
+
+"But I am buying, not selling, your land, young man," the banker had
+said. "I know it, sir, and I am willing to take your own figures," Jack
+replied--at which Mr. Guthrie had laughed in a kindly way, and had then
+called in Mr. Ballantree and another man how the three had then talked
+in a corner, and how he had heard Mr. Guthrie say, "No, that is not
+fair--add another five thousand and increase the interest to one-fifth";
+whereupon the two men went out and came back later with a letter in
+duplicate, one of which Mr. Guthrie had signed, and the other which he,
+Jack, signed--and here was Mr., Guthrie's letter to prove it. With this
+Jack took out the document and laid it before Peter's delighted eyes;
+adding that the deeds and Isaac's release were to be signed in the
+morning, and that Mr. Guthrie had sent a special message by him to the
+effect that he very much wished Mr. Grayson would also be present when
+the final transfers would be signed and the money paid.
+
+Whereupon the Scribe again maintains--and he is rubbing his hands with
+the joy of it all as he does it--that there was more sunshine than
+clouds in this particular Unexpected, and that if all the boys in
+the world were as frank and sincere as young Jack Breen, and all the
+grown-ups as honest as old Robert Guthrie, the REAL banker, the jails
+would be empty and the millennium knocking at our doors.
+
+Peter had drunk in every word of the story, bowing his head, fanning out
+his fingers, or interrupting with his customary "Well, well!" whenever
+some particular detail seemed to tend toward the final success.
+
+And then, the story over, there came the part that Peter never forgot;
+that he has told me a dozen times, and always with the same trembling
+tear under the eyelids, and the same quivering of his lower lip.
+
+Jack had drawn his chair nearer the old gentleman, and had thrown one
+arm over the shoulder of his dearest friend in the world. There was
+a moment's silence as they sat there, and then Jack began. "There is
+something I want you to do for me, Uncle Peter," he said, drawing his
+arm closer till his own fresh cheek almost touched the head of the older
+man. "Please, don't refuse."
+
+"Refuse, my dear boy! I am too happy to-day to refuse anything. Come,
+out with it."
+
+"I am going to give you half of this money. I love you better than any
+one in this world except Ruth, and I want you to have it."
+
+Peter threw up his hands and sprang to his feet.
+
+"What!--You want to--Why, Jack! Are you crazy! Me! My dear boy, it's
+very lovely of you to wish to do it, but just think. Oh, you dear
+Jack! No!--no, no!" He was beating the air now deprecatingly with his
+outspread fingers as he strode around the room, laughing short laughs in
+his effort to keep back the tears.
+
+Jack followed him in his circuit, talking all the while, until he had
+penned the old gentleman in a corner between the open desk and the
+window.
+
+"But, Uncle Peter--think what you have done for me! Do you suppose for
+one moment that I don't know that it was you and not I who sold the
+property? Do you think Mr. Guthrie would have added that five thousand
+dollars to the price if he hadn't wanted to help you as well as me?"
+
+"Five thousand dollars, my dear Jack, is no more to Robert Guthrie than
+a ferry ticket is to you or me. He gave you the full price because
+you trusted to his honesty and told him the truth, and he saw your
+inexperience."
+
+"No--it was YOU he was thinking of, I tell you," protested Jack, with
+eager emphasis. "He would never have sent Ballantree for me had you not
+talked to him--and it has been so with everything since I knew you. You
+have been father, friend, everybody to me. You gave me Ruth and my work.
+Everything I am I owe to you. You must--you SHALL have half of this
+money! Ruth and I can be married, and that is all we want, and what is
+left I can put into our new work to help Mr. MacFarlane. Please, Uncle
+Peter!--we will both be so much happier if we know you share it with
+us." Here his voice rose and a strain of determination rang through it.
+"And, by George!--Uncle Peter, the more I think of it, the more I am
+convinced that it is fair. It's yours--not mine. I WILL have it that
+way--you are getting old, and you need it."
+
+Peter broke into a laugh. It was the only way he could keep down the
+tears.
+
+"What a dear boy you are, Jack," he said, backing toward the sofa and
+regaining his seat. "You've got a heart as big as a house, and I'm proud
+of you, but no--not a penny of your money. Think a moment! Your father
+didn't leave the property to me--not any part of it--he left it to you,
+you spendthrift! When I get too old to work I am going up to Felicia's
+and pick out an easy-chair and sit in a corner and dry up gradually and
+be laid away in lavender. No, my lad, not a penny! Gift money should go
+to cripples and hypochondriacs, not to spry old gentlemen. I would not
+take it from my own father's estate when I was your age, and I certainly
+won't take it now from you. I made Felicia take it all." Jack opened
+his eyes. He had often wondered why Peter had so little and she so much.
+"Oh, yes, nearly forty years ago! But I have never regretted it since!
+And you must see how just it was, for there wasn't enough for two, and
+Felicia was a woman. No--be very careful of gift money, my boy, and be
+very careful, also, of too much of anybody's money--even your own. What
+makes me most glad in this whole affair is that Guthrie didn't give you
+a million--that might have spoilt you. This is just enough. You and
+Ruth can start square. You can help Henry--and you ought to, he has been
+mighty good to you. And, best of all, you can keep at work. Yes--that's
+the best part of it--that you can keep at work. Go right on as you are;
+work every single day of your life, and earn your bread as you have done
+ever since you left New York, and, one thing more, and don't you ever
+forget it: Be sure you take your proper share of fun and rest as you
+go. Eight hours' work, eight hours' play, eight hours' sleep--that's the
+golden rule and the only one to live by. Money will never get its
+grip on you if you keep this up. This fortune hasn't yet tightened its
+fingers around your throat, or you would never have come up here to give
+me half of it--and never let it! Money is your servant, my boy, not your
+master. And now go home and kiss Ruth for me, and tell her that I love
+her dearly. Wait a moment. I will go with you as far as Isaac's. I am
+going to tell him the good news. Then I'll have him measure me for a
+coat to dance at your wedding."
+
+And the Unexpecteds are not yet over. There was still another, of quite
+a different character, about to fall--and out of another clear sky,
+too--a sort of April-shower sky, where you get wet on one side of the
+street and keep dry on the other. Jack had the dry side this time, and
+went on his way rejoicing, but the head of the house of Breen caught the
+downpour, and a very wet downpour it was.
+
+It all occurred when Jack was hurrying to the ferry and when he ran
+into the senior member of the firm, who was hurrying in the opposite
+direction.
+
+"Ah, Jack!--the very man I wanted to see," cried Breen. "I was going to
+write you. There's something doing up in that ore country. Better drop
+in to-morrow, I may be able to handle it for you, after all."
+
+"I am sorry, sir, but it's not for sale," said Jack, trying to smother
+his glee.
+
+"Why?" demanded Breen bluntly.
+
+"I have sold it to Mr. Robert Guthrie."
+
+"Guthrie! The devil you say!--When?"
+
+"To-day. The final papers are signed to-morrow. Excuse me, I must catch
+my boat--" and away he went, his cup now brimming over, leaving Breen
+biting his lips and muttering to himself as he gazed after him.
+
+"Guthrie!--My customer! Damn that boy--I might have known he would land
+on his feet."
+
+But Jack kept on home to his sweetheart, most of the way in the air.
+
+Down in the little room all this time in the rear of the tailor's shop
+the two old men sat talking. Peter kept nothing back; his lips quivering
+again and another unbidden tear peeping over the edge of his eyelid when
+he told of Jack's offer.
+
+"A dear boy, Isaac--yes, a dear boy. He never thinks with his head--only
+with his heart. Never has since I knew him. Impulsive, emotional,
+unpractical, no doubt--and yet somehow he always wins. Queer--very
+queer! He comes upstairs to me and I start out on a fool's errand. He
+goes down to you, and you hand him out your money. He gives it all away
+the next day, and then we have Guthrie doubling the price. Queer, I tell
+you, Isaac--extraordinary, that's what it is--almost uncanny."
+
+The Jew threw away his cigar, rested his short elbows on the arms of
+his chair, and made a basket of his hands, the tips of all his fingers
+touching.
+
+"No, you are wrong, my good friend. It is not extraordinary and it is
+not uncanny. It is very simple--exceedingly simple. Nobody runs over
+a child if he can help it. Even a thief will bring you back your
+pocket-book if you trust him to take care of it. It is the trusting that
+does it. Few men, no matter how crooked, can resist the temptation of
+reaching, if only for a moment, an honest man's level."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+
+Peter's coat was finished in time for the wedding--trust Isaac for
+that--and so was his double-breasted white waistcoat--he had not changed
+the cut in twenty years; and so were his pepper-and-salt trousers and
+all his several appointments, little and big, even to his polka-dot
+scarf of blue silk, patent-leather shoes and white gaiters. Quite the
+best-dressed man in the room, everybody said, and they of all the people
+in the world should have known.
+
+And the wedding!
+
+And all that went before it, and all that took place on that joyous day;
+and all that came after that happiest of events!
+
+Ruth and Jack, with Peter's covert endorsement, had wanted to slip into
+the village church some afternoon at dusk, with daddy and Peter and Miss
+Felicia, and one or two more, and then to slip out again and disappear.
+MacFarlane had been in favor of the old Maryland home, with Ruth's
+grandmother in charge, and the neighbors driving up in mud-encrusted
+buggies and lumbering coaches, their inmates warmed by roaring fires and
+roaring welcomes--fat turkeys, hot waffles, egg-nogg, apple-toddy, and
+the rest of it. The head of the house of Breen expressed the opinion
+(this on the day Jack gave his check for the bonds prior to returning
+them to Isaac, who wouldn't take a cent of interest) that the ceremony
+should by all means take place in Grace Church, after which everybody
+would adjourn to his house on the Avenue, where the wedding-breakfast
+would be served, he being nearest of kin to the groom, and the bride
+being temporarily without a home of her own--a proposition which, it is
+needless to say, Jack declined on the spot, but in terms so courteous
+and with so grand and distinguished an air that the head of the house of
+Breen found his wonder increasing at the change that had come over the
+boy since he shook the dust of the Breen home and office from his feet.
+
+The Grande Dame of Geneseo did not agree with any of these makeshifts.
+There would be no Corklesville wedding if she could help it, with gaping
+loungers at the church door; nor would there be any Maryland wedding
+with a ten-mile ride over rough roads to a draughty country-house, where
+your back would freeze while your cheeks burned up; nor yet again any
+city wedding, with an awning over the sidewalk, a red carpet and squad
+of police, with Tom, Dick, and Harry inside the church, and Harry, Dick
+and Tom squeezed into an oak-panelled dining-room at high noon with
+every gas-jet blazing.
+
+And she did not waste many seconds coming to this conclusion. Off went a
+telegram, after hearing the various propositions, followed by a letter,
+that might have melted the wires and set fire to the mail-sack, so
+fervid were the contents.
+
+"Nonsense! My dear Ruth, you will be married in my house and the
+breakfast will be in the garden. If Peter and your father haven't got
+any common sense, that's no reason why you and Jack should lose your
+wits."
+
+This, of course, ended the matter. No one living or dead had ever been
+found with nerve enough to withstand Felicia Grayson when she had once
+made up her mind.
+
+And then, again, there was no time to lose in unnecessary discussions.
+Were not Ruth and her father picnicking in a hired villa, with half
+their household goods in a box-car at Morfordsburg?--and was not Jack
+still living in his two rooms at Mrs. Hicks's? The only change suggested
+by the lovers was in the date of the wedding, Miss Felicia having
+insisted that it should not take place until November, "FOUR WHOLE
+WEEKS AWAY." But the old lady would not budge. Four weeks at least, she
+insisted, would be required for the purchase and making of the wedding
+clothes, which, with four more for the honeymoon (at this both Jack and
+Ruth shouted with laughter, they having determined on a honeymoon
+the like of which had never been seen since Adam and Eve went to
+housekeeping in the Garden). These eight weeks, continued the practical
+old lady, would be required to provide a suitable home for them both;
+now an absolute necessity, seeing that Mr. Guthrie had made extensive
+contracts with MacFarlane, which, with Jack's one-fifth interest in the
+ore banks was sure to keep Jack and MacFarlane at Morfordsburg for some
+years to come.
+
+So whizz went another telegram--this time from Jack--there was no time
+for letters these days--stopping all work on the nearly completed log
+cabin which the poor young superintendent had ordered, and which was all
+he could afford, before the sale of the ore lands. But then THAT seemed
+ages and ages ago.
+
+"Don't tell me what I want, sir," roared Mr. Golightly at the waiter,
+in "Lend Me Five Shillings," when he brought a crust of bread and cheese
+and a pickle with which to entertain Mrs. Phobbs; Golightly in the
+meantime having discovered a purse full of sovereigns in the coat the
+waiter had handed him by mistake. "Don't tell me what I said, sir.
+I know what I said, sir! I said champagne, sir, and plenty of
+it, sir!--turkeys, and plenty of them!
+
+Burgundy--partridges--lobsters--pineapple punch--pickled
+salmon--everything! Look sharp, Be off!" (Can't you hear dear Joe
+Jefferson's voice, gentle reader, through it all?)
+
+And now listen to our proud Jack, with the clink of his own gold in his
+own pocket.
+
+"What did you say? A six by nine log hut, with a sheet-iron stove in one
+corner and a cast-iron bedstead in another, and a board closet, and
+a table and two chairs--and this, too, for a princess of quality and
+station? Zounds, sirrah!--" (Holker Morris was the "Sirrah")--"I
+didn't order anything of the kind. I ordered a bungalow all on one
+floor--that's what I ordered--with a boudoir and two bedrooms, and
+an extra one for my honored father-in-law, and still another for my
+thrice-honored uncle, Mr. Peter Grayson, when he shall come to stay o'
+nights; and porches front and back where my lady's hammock may be slung:
+and a fireplace big enough to roll logs into as thick around as your
+body and wide enough to warm every one all over; and a stable for my
+lady's mare, with a stall for my saddle-horse. Out upon you, you Dago!"
+
+Presto, what a change! Away went the completed roof of the modest cabin
+and down tumbled the sides. More post-holes were dug; more trenches
+excavated; more great oaks toppled over to be sliced into rafters,
+joists and uprights; more shingles--two carloads; more brick; more
+plaster; more everything, including nails, locks, hinges, sash;
+bath-tubs--two; lead pipe, basins, kitchen range--and so the new
+bungalow was begun.
+
+Neither was there any time to be lost over the invitations. Miss
+Felicia, we may be sure, prepared the list. It never bothered her head
+whether the trip to Geneseo--and that, too, in the fall of the year,
+when early snows were to be expected--might prevent any of the invited
+guests from witnessing the glad ceremony. Those who loved Ruth she knew
+would come even if they had to be accompanied by St. Bernard dogs with
+kegs of brandy tied to their necks to get them across the glaciers,
+including Uncle Peter, of course; as would also Ruth's dear grandmother,
+who was just Miss Felicia's age, and MacFarlane's saintly sister Kate,
+who had never taken off her widow's weeds since the war, and two of
+her girl friends, with whom Ruth went to school, and who were to be her
+bridesmaids.
+
+Then there were those who might or might not struggle through the
+drifts, if there happened to be any--the head of the house of Breen,
+for instance, and Mrs. B., and lots and lots of people of whom Jack had
+never heard, aunts and uncles and cousins by the dozens; and lots
+and lots of people of whom Ruth had never heard, of the same blood
+relationship; and lots more of people from Washington Square and Murray
+Hill, who loved the young people, and Peter, and his outspoken sister,
+all of whom must be invited to the ceremony; including the Rector and
+his wife from Corklesville, and--(no--that was all from Corklesville)
+together with such selected inhabitants of Geneseo as dame Felicia
+permitted inside of her doors. As for the several ambassadors, generals,
+judges, dignitaries, attaches, secretaries, and other high and mighty
+folks forming the circle of Miss Felicia's acquaintance, both here
+and abroad, they were only to receive "announcement" cards, just as a
+reminder that Miss Grayson of Geneseo was still in and of the world.
+
+The hardest nut of all to crack was given to Jack. They had all talked
+it over, the dear girl saying "of course he shall come, Jack, if you
+would like to have him." Jack adding that he should "never forget his
+generosity," and MacFarlane closing the discussion by saying:
+
+"Go slow, Jack. I'd say yes in a minute. I am past all those foolish
+prejudices, but it isn't your house, remember. Better ask Peter--he'll
+tell you."
+
+Peter pursed his mouth when Jack laid the matter before him in Peter's
+room the next day, tipped his head so far on one side that it looked as
+if it might roll off any minute and go smash, and with an arching of his
+eyebrows said:
+
+"Well, but why NOT invite Isaac? Has anybody ever been as good to you?"
+
+"Never any one, Uncle Peter--and I think as you do, and so does Ruth and
+Mr. MacFarlane, but--" The boy hesitated and looked away.
+
+"But what?" queried Peter.
+
+"Well--there's Aunt Felicia. You know how particular she is; and she
+doesn't know how splendid Mr. Cohen has been, and if he came to the
+wedding she might not like it."
+
+"But Felicia is not going to be married, my boy," remarked Peter, with a
+dry smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes.
+
+Jack laughed. "Yes--but it's her house."
+
+"Yes--and your wedding. Now go down and ask Mr. Cohen yourself.
+You'll send him a card, of course, but do more than that. Call on him
+personally and tell you want him to come, and why--and that I want him,
+too. That will please him still more. The poor fellow lives a great deal
+alone. Whether he will come or not, I don't know--but ask him. You owe
+it to yourself as much as you do to him."
+
+"And you don't think Aunt Felicia will--"
+
+"Hang Felicia! You do what you think is right; it does not matter what
+Felicia or anybody else thinks."
+
+Jack wheeled about and strode downstairs and into the back room where
+the little man sat at his desk looking over some papers. Isaac's hand
+was out and he was on his feet before Jack had reached his side.
+
+"Ah!--Mr. Millionaire. And so you have come to tell me some more good
+news. Have you sold another mine? I should have looked out to see
+whether your carriage did not stop at my door; and now sit down and tell
+me what I can do for you. How well you look, and how happy. Ah, it is
+very good to be young!"
+
+"What you can do for me is this, Mr. Cohen. I want you to come to our
+wedding--will you? I have come myself to ask you," said Jack in all
+sincerity.
+
+"So! And you have come yourself." He was greatly pleased; his
+face showed it. "Well, that is very kind of you, but let me first
+congratulate you. Yes--Mr. Grayson told me all about it, and how lovely
+the young lady is. And now tell me, when is your wedding?"
+
+"Next month."
+
+"And where will it be?"
+
+"At Uncle Peter's old home up at Geneseo."
+
+"Oh, at that grand lady's place--the magnificent Miss Grayson." "Yes,
+but it is only one night away. I will see that you are taken care of."
+
+The little man paused and toyed with the papers on his desk. His black,
+diamond-pointed eyes sparkled and an irrepressible smile hung around his
+lips.
+
+"Thank you very much, Mr. Breen--and thank your young lady too. You are
+very kind and you are very polite. Yes--I mean it--very polite. And you
+are sincere in what you say; that is the best of all. But I cannot go.
+It is not the travelling at night--that is nothing. You and your
+lady would be glad to see me and that would be worth it all, but the
+magnificent Miss Grayson, she would not be glad to see me. You see,
+my dear young man"--here the smile got loose and scampered up to his
+eyelids--"I am a most unfortunate combination--oh, most unfortunate--for
+the magnificent Miss Grayson. If I was only a tailor I might be
+forgiven; if I was just a Jew I might be forgiven; but when I am both
+a tailor and a Jew"--here the irrepressible went to pieces in a merry
+laugh--"don't you see how impossible it is? And you--you, Mr. Breen! She
+would never forgive you. 'My friend, Mr. Cohen,' you would have to say,
+and she could do nothing. She must answer that she is most glad to see
+me--or she might NOT answer, which would be worse. And it is not
+her fault. You can't break down the barriers of centuries in a day.
+No--no--I will not compromise you in that way. Let me come to see you
+some time when it is all over, when your good uncle can come too. He
+will bring me; perhaps. And now give my best respects to the lady--I
+forget her name, and say to her for me, that if she is as thoughtful of
+other people as you are, you deserve to be a very happy couple."
+
+Jack shook the little man's hand and went his way. He was sorry and
+he was glad. He was also somewhat ashamed in his heart. It was not
+altogether himself who had been thoughtful of other people. But for
+Peter, perhaps, he might never have paid the visit.
+
+As the blissful day approached Geneseo was shaken to its centre, the
+vibrations reaching to the extreme limits of the town. Not only was
+Moggins who drove the village 'bus and tucked small packages under the
+seat on the sly, overworked, but all the regular and irregular express
+companies had to put on extra teams. Big box, little box, band box,
+bundle, began to pour in, to say nothing of precious packages that
+nobody but "Miss Grayson" could sign for. And then such a litter of cut
+paper and such mounds of pasteboard boxes poked under Miss Felicia's
+bed, so she could defend them in the dead of night, and with her life
+if necessary, each one containing presents, big and little; the very
+biggest being a flamboyant service of silver from the head of the house
+of Breen and his wife, and the smallest a velvet-bound prayer-book from
+Aunt Kate with inter-remembrances from MacFarlane (all the linen, glass,
+and china); from Peter (two old decanters with silver coasters); from
+Miss Felicia (the rest of her laces, besides innumerable fans and some
+bits of rare jewelry); besides no end of things from the Holker Morrises
+and the Fosters and dozens of others, who loved either Ruth or Jack, or
+somebody whom each one or both of them loved, or perhaps their fathers
+and mothers before them. The Scribe has forgotten the list and the
+donors, and really it is of no value, except as confirmation of the fact
+that they are still in the possession of the couple, and that none of
+them was ever exchanged for something else nor will be until the end of
+time.
+
+One curious-looking box, however, smelling of sandalwood and dried
+cinnamon, and which arrived the day the ceremony took place, is worthy
+of recall, because of the universal interest which it excited. It was
+marked "Fragile" on the outside, and was packed with extraordinary care.
+Miss Felicia superintended the unrolling and led the chorus of "Oh, how
+lovely!" herself, when an Imari jar, with carved teakwood stand, was
+brought to light. So exquisite was it in glaze, form, and color that
+for a moment no one thought of the donor. Then their curiosity got the
+better of them and they began to search through the wrappings for
+the card. It wasn't in the box; it wasn't hidden in the final bag;
+it wasn't--here a bright thought now flashed through the dear lady's
+brain--down went her shapely hand into the depths of the tall jar, and
+up came an envelope bearing Ruth's name and enclosing a card which made
+the grande dame catch her breath.
+
+"Mr. Isaac Cohen! What--the little tailor!" she gasped out. "The Jew!
+Well, upon my word--did you ever hear of such impudence!"
+
+Isaac would have laughed the harder could he have seen her face.
+
+Jack caught up the vase and ran with it to Ruth, who burst out with
+another: "Oh, what a beauty!" followed by "Who sent it?"
+
+"A gentleman journeyman tailor, my darling," said Jack, with a flash of
+his eye at Peter, his face wreathed in smiles.
+
+And with the great day--a soft November day--summer had lingered on
+a-purpose--came the guests: the head of the house of Breen and his
+wife--not poor Corinne, of course, who poured out her heart in a letter
+instead, which she entrusted to her mother to deliver; and Holker Morris
+and Mrs. Morris, and the Fosters and the Granthams and Wildermings and
+their wives and daughters and sons, and one stray general, who stopped
+over on his way to the West, and who said when he entered, looking
+so very grand and important, that he didn't care whether he had been
+invited to the ceremony or not, at which Miss Felicia was delighted,
+he being a major-general on the retired list, and not a poor tailor
+who--no, we won't refer to that again; besides a very, VERY select
+portion of the dear lady's townspeople--the house being small, as she
+explained, and Miss MacFarlane's intimates and acquaintances being both
+importunate and numerous.
+
+And with the gladsome hour came the bride.
+
+None of us will ever forget her. Not only was she a vision of rare
+loveliness, but there was in her every glance and movement that
+stateliness and grace that poise and sureness of herself that marks the
+high-born woman the world over when she finds herself the cynosure of
+all eyes.
+
+All who saw her descend Miss Felicia's stairs held their breath in
+adoration: Not a flight of steps at all, but a Jacob's ladder down which
+floated a company of angels in pink and ivory--one all in white, her
+lovely head crowned by a film of old lace in which nestled a single
+rose.
+
+On she came--slowly--proudly--her slippered feet touching the carpeted
+steps as daintily as treads a fawn; her gown crinkling into folds of
+silver about her knees, one fair hand lost in a mist of gauze, the
+other holding the blossoms which Jack had pressed to his lips--until she
+reached her father's side.
+
+"Dear daddy," I heard her whisper as she patted his sleeve with her
+fingers.
+
+Ah! but it was a proud day for MacFarlane. I saw his bronzed and
+weather-beaten face flush when he caught sight of her in all her
+gracious beauty; but it was when she reached his side and laid her hand
+on his arm, as he told me afterward, that the choke came. She was so
+like her mother.
+
+The two swept past me into the old-fashioned parlor, now a bower of
+roses, where Jack and Peter and Felicia, with the elect, waited their
+coming, and I followed, halting at the doorway. From this point of
+vantage I peered in as best I could over and between the heads of the
+more fortunate, but I heard all that went on; the precise, sonorous
+voice of the bishop--(catch Miss Felicia having anybody but a bishop);
+the clear responses--especially Jack's--as if he had been waiting all
+his life to say those very words and insisted on being heard; the soft
+crush of satin as Ruth knelt; the rustle of her gown when she regained
+her feet; the measured words: "Whom God hath joined together, let no
+man put asunder"--and then the outbreak of joyous congratulations. As I
+looked in upon them all--old fellow as I am--listening to their joyous
+laughter; noting the wonderful toilettes, the festoons and masses of
+flowers; watching Miss Felicia as she moved about the room (and never
+had I seen her more the "Grande Dame" than she was that day), welcoming
+her guests with a graciousness that must have opened some of their
+eyes--even fat, red-faced Arthur Breen, perspiring in pearl-colored
+gloves and a morning frock coat that fitted all sides of him except the
+front, and Mrs. Arthur in moire antique and diamonds, were enchanted;
+noting, too, Peter's perfectly appointed dress and courtly manners,
+he taking the whole responsibility of the occasion on his own
+shoulders--head of the house, really, for the time; receiving people at
+the door; bowing them out again; carrying glasses of punch--stopping to
+hobnob with this or that old neighbor: "Ah, my dear Mrs. Townehalle, how
+young and well you look; and you tell me this is your daughter. I
+knew your mother, my dear, when she was your age, and she was the very
+prettiest girl in the county. And now let me present you to a most
+charming woman, Mrs. Foster, of New York, who--" etc., etc. Or greeting
+some old gray-head with: "Well, well--of coarse it is--why, Judge,
+I haven't seen you since you left the bench which you graced so
+admirably," etc, etc.; watching, too, Ruth and Jack as they stood
+beneath a bower of arching roses--(Miss Felicia had put it together with
+her own hands)--receiving the congratulations and good wishes of those
+they knew and those they did not know; both trying to remember the names
+of strangers; both laughing over their mistakes, and both famished for
+just one kiss behind some door or curtain where nobody could see. As I
+looked on, I say, noting all these and a dozen other things, it was
+good to feel that there was yet another spot in this world of care where
+unbridled happiness held full sway and joy and gladness were contagious.
+
+But it was in the tropical garden, with its frog pond, climbing roses in
+full bloom, water-lilies, honeysuckle, and other warm-weather shrubs and
+plants (not a single thing was a-bloom outside, even the chrysanthemums
+had been frost-bitten), that the greatest fun took place. That was a
+sight worth ten nights on the train to see.
+
+Here the wedding breakfast was spread, the bride's table being placed
+outside that same arbor where Jack once tried so hard to tell Ruth he
+loved her (how often have they laughed over it since); a table with
+covers for seven, counting the two bridesmaids and the two gallants
+in puffy steel-gray scarfs and smooth steel-gray gloves. The other
+guests--the relations and intimate friends who had been invited to
+remain after the ceremony--were to find seats either at the big or
+little tables placed under the palms or beneath the trellises of
+jasmine, or upon the old porch overlooking the tropical garden.
+
+It was Jack's voice that finally caught my attention. I could not see
+clearly on account of the leaves and tangled vines, but I could hear.
+
+"But we want you, and you must."
+
+"Oh, please, do," pleaded Ruth; there was no mistaking the music of her
+tones, or the southern accent that softened them.
+
+"But what nonsense--an old duffer like me!" This was Peter's voice--no
+question about it.
+
+"We won't any of us sit down if you don't," Jack was speaking now.
+
+"And it will spoil everything," cried Ruth. "Jack and I planned it long
+ago; and we have brought you out a special chair; and see your card--see
+what it says: 'Dear Uncle Peter--'"
+
+"Sit down with you young people at your wedding breakfast!" cried Peter,
+"and--" He didn't get any farther. Ruth had stopped what was to follow
+with a kiss. I know, for I craned my neck and caught the flash of the
+old fellow's bald head with the fair girl's cheek close to his own.
+
+"Well, then--just as you want it--but there's the Major and Felicia and
+your father."
+
+But they did not want any of these people, Ruth cried with a ringing
+laugh; didn't want any old people; they just wanted their dear Uncle
+Peter, and they were going to have him; a resolution which was put
+to vote and carried unanimously, the two pink bridesmaids and the two
+steel-gray gentlemen voting the loudest.
+
+The merriment ceased when Ruth disappeared and came back in a dark-blue
+travelling dress and Jack in a brown suit. We were all in the doorway,
+our hands filled with rose petals--no worn-out slippers or hail of
+rice for this bride--when she tried to slip through in a dash for the
+carriage, but the dear lady caught and held her, clasping the girl to
+her heart, kissing her lips, her forehead, her hands--she could be very
+tender when she loved anybody; and she loved Ruth as her life; Peter and
+her father going ahead to hold open the door where they had their kisses
+and handshakes, their blessings, and their last words all to themselves.
+
+The honeymoon slipped away as do all honeymoons, and one crisp, cool
+December day a lumbering country stage containing two passengers
+struggled up a steep hill and stopped before a long, rambling building
+nearing completion. All about were piles of partly used lumber, broken
+bundles of shingles, empty barrels, and abandoned mortar beds. Straight
+from the low slanting roof with its queer gables, rose a curl of blue
+smoke, telling of comfort and cheer within. Back of it towered huge
+trees, and away off in the distance swept a broad valley hazy in the
+morning light.
+
+"Oh, Jack--what a love!" cried one passenger--she had alighted with a
+spring, her cheeks aglow with the bracing mountain air, and was standing
+taking it all in. "And, oh--see the porch!--and the darling windows and
+the dear little panes of glass! And, Jack--" she had reached the open
+door now, and was sweeping her eyes around the interior--"Oh!--oh!--what
+a fireplace!--and such ducky little shelves--and the flowers, and the
+table and the big easy chairs and rugs! ISN'T it lovely!!"
+
+And then the two, hand in hand, stepped inside and shut the door.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Peter, by F. Hopkinson Smith
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