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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -<title>JUDGE ELBRIDGE</title> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1899" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Judge Elbridge" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="46699" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2014-08-26" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Opie Read" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Judge Elbridge" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators/" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="Judge Elbridge" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="/home/ajhaines/judge/judge.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2014-08-27T20:44:26.435561+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/46699" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="Opie Read" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2014-08-26" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="Ebookmaker 0.4.0a2 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="judge-elbridge"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">JUDGE ELBRIDGE</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world 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 </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> included with -this ebook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>. If you -are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws -of the country where you are located before using this ebook.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Judge Elbridge -<br /> -<br />Author: Opie Read -<br /> -<br />Release Date: August 26, 2014 [EBook #46699] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>JUDGE ELBRIDGE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container coverpage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 77%" id="figure-91"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Cover art" src="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Cover art</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-92"> -<span id="he-threw-a-piece-of-silver-upon-the-banner-of-the-salvationists"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="He threw a piece of silver upon the banner of the salvationists.—*Page* 180" src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">He threw a piece of silver upon the banner of the salvationists.—</span><em class="italics">Page</em><span class="italics"> </span><a class="italics reference internal" href="#id1">180</a></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="xx-large">JUDGE ELBRIDGE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">OPIE READ</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">AUTHOR Of -<br />"AN ARKANSAS PLANTER," "THE WATERS -<br />OF CANEY FORK," "A YANKEE -<br />FROM THE WEST," ETC.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">CHICAGO AND NEW YORK: -<br />RAND, McNALLY & CO., PUBLISHERS. -<br />MDCCCXCIX.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">Copyright, 1899, by Rand, McNally & Co.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">CHAPTER</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-student-and-the-orator">THE STUDENT AND THE ORATOR</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-family-joke">THE FAMILY JOKE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-night-came-back-with-a-rush">THE NIGHT CAME BACK WITH A RUSH</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#stood-looking-at-them">STOOD LOOKING AT THEM</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#she-said-that-she-was-strong">SHE SAID THAT SHE WAS STRONG</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-wexton-club">THE WEXTON CLUB</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#went-out-to-dig">WENT OUT TO "DIG"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#saw-the-black-face-grim-without-a-smile">SAW THE BLACK FACE, GRIM, WITHOUT A SMILE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#heard-a-gong-in-the-alley">HEARD A GONG IN THE ALLEY</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#william-agreed-with-the-judge">WILLIAM AGREED WITH THE JUDGE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-old-office">THE OLD OFFICE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#walked-and-repented">WALKED AND REPENTED</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#wanted-to-see-his-son">WANTED TO SEE HIS SON</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-proposition-to-make">A PROPOSITION TO MAKE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#did-not-touch-her">DID NOT TOUCH HER</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#with-an-ear-turned-toward-the-door">WITH AN EAR TURNED TOWARD THE DOOR</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#lying-on-the-sidewalk">LYING ON THE SIDEWALK</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#made-his-proposition">MADE HIS PROPOSITION</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-girl-again">THE GIRL AGAIN</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-preacher-confesses">THE PREACHER CONFESSES</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#up-the-stairs-and-down-again">UP THE STAIRS AND DOWN AGAIN</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#told-him-good-bye">TOLD HIM GOOD-BYE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-light-breaks">THE LIGHT BREAKS</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#sent-a-message">SENT A MESSAGE</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">ILLUSTRATIONS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#he-threw-a-piece-of-silver-upon-the-banner-of-the-salvationists">He threw a piece of silver upon the banner of the -salvationists</a><span> . . . </span><em class="italics">Frontispiece</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#halloa-goyle-said-he-come-in">"Halloa, Goyle," said he. "Come in."</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#goyle-began-to-turn-the-knob-of-the-safe">Goyle began to turn the knob of the safe</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#how-s-everything-bodney-asked">"How's everything?" Bodney asked</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#bodney-took-the-money">Bodney took the money</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-old-man-pointed-toward-the-door-and-howard-walked-slowly-out">The old man pointed toward the door, and Howard -walked slowly out</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#bodney-struck-him-in-the-mouth">Bodney struck him in the mouth</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-judge-seized-the-shears-and-raised-them-high-above-his-head">The Judge seized the shears and raised them high above his head</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-student-and-the-orator"><span class="bold x-large">JUDGE ELBRIDGE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE STUDENT AND THE ORATOR.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When John Elbridge retired from the bench, the -newspapers said that he had been an honorable -judge. He was not a pioneer, but had come to -Chicago at a time which we now call an early day, -when churches rang their bells where now there is -a jungle of trade, when the legs of the Giant of the -West were in the ache of "growing pains;" at a -time when none but the most visionary dreamed -that a mud-hole full of old boots, dead rats, cats, -dogs, could ever be worth a million of dollars. -Elbridge came from Maryland, with a scant -wardrobe, a lawyer's diploma, and the confident -ambition of youth. It was not long before he formed a -copartnership with a young man named Bodney, a -Kentuckian, in whose mind still lived the chimes of -Henry Clay's bells—a memory that not so much -fitted him to the law as it atuned him to oratory; -but in those days the bar could be eloquent -without inviting the pitying smile which means, "Oh, -yes, it sounds all right, but it's crude." Elbridge -was the student of the firm, and Bodney the orator, -not a bad combination in the law at that time, for -what one did not know the other was prepared to -assert. They prospered in a way, but never had the -forethought to invest in the magic mud-hole; took -wives unto themselves, and, in the opinion of the -"orator," settled down to dull and uneventful -honesty. The years, like racing horses, flew round and -round the track, and a palace of trade grew out of -the mud-hole. Bodney and his wife passed away, -leaving two children, a boy and a girl. Elbridge had -stood at the bedside of his partner, who was -following his wife into the eternal shadow. "Don't -worry about the children, Dan; they are mine," -said the "student," and the "orator" passed away in -peace. And they were his. He took them to his -home to be brother and sister to his son; and the -years raced round and round the track.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the time of his retirement from the bench the -Judge was asked why he refused longer to serve the -people. "Because," said he, "I am beginning to be -afraid of my judgment; I am becoming too careful—like -the old engineer who can't summon the nerve -to bring his train in on time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge had been known as a local -"beauty." It was said that the "orator" had rung -his Henry Clay bells for her hand, and with -philosophy, a rare quality among orators, had accepted -defeat, to spur himself into another contest and to -win a woman not unknown to "looks." Rachel -Fry, afterward Mrs. Elbridge, had written verses -to sky tints and lake hues, and the "student" -believed that he had won her with a volume of Keats, -bound in blue, the color of one of her own lake -odes. And in the reminiscent humor of his older -days he was wont to laugh over it until he himself -was shot through with a metric thrill, when in -measure he strove to recall the past; and then she -had the laugh on him. It may be a mere notion, but -it seems that the young doctor and the old lawyer -are much inclined to write verses, for among the -papers of many an aged jurist sonnets are found, -and editors are well acquainted with the beguiling -smile of the young physician. So the "pink fleece -of the cloud-sheep," and the "blue, mysterious soul -of the lake," inspirations of the "beauty's" earlier -years, found sympathy in the "student's" "mellow -morning of sunlit hope," penned in the late afternoon -of life. But verses, be they ever so bad, are -the marks of refinement, and there was no vulgar -streak in the mind of the Judge. His weakness, -and he possessed more than one, was the doggedness -with which he held to a conviction. His mind -was not at all times clear; a neighbor said that he -often found himself in a cloud of dust that arose -from ancient law books; and it is a fact that an able -judge is sometimes a man of strong prejudices. At -the time of this narration he was still hale, good -humored, a little given to the pedantry of advancing -years, devoted to his family, impressive in manner, -with his high forehead and thin gray hair; firm -of step, heavy in the shoulders, not much above -medium height, cleanly shaven, with full lips slightly -pouting. Following his own idea of comfort, he -had planned his house, a large brick building in -Indiana Avenue, at first far out, but now within -easy reach of the area where the city's pile-driving -heart beats with increasing violence. It was a -happy household. The son, Howard, was a manly -fellow, studious but wide awake, and upon him the -old man rested a precious hope. The mother was a -blonde, and nature had given her cast to the boy, -blue eyes and yellowish hair; and it was said that if -he had a vanity it lay in his bronze beard, which he -kept neatly trimmed—and it had come early, this -mark of the matured man. His foster brother, -George Bodney, was dark, inclined to restlessness, -over-impressionable, nervous. The old man had -another precious hope—Florence, Bodney's sister; -but of this he shall tell in his own words. A -stranger might not have seen anything striking -about the girl; but all acquaintances thought her -handsome. At school she had been called a -"character," not that she was original to the degree of -being "queer," but because she acted in a manner -prematurely old, discussing serious questions with -her teachers, debating the problems of life. Her -hobby was honor, a virtue which a cynic has -declared is more often found among boys than among -girls. She liked to read of martyrs, not that there -was heaven in their faith, but because she thought -it glorious to suffer and to die for a principle, no -matter what that principle might happen to be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was one other member of the family, William, -the Judge's brother. He looked like a caricature -of the "student," with thinner hair and thicker -lips. He had not given his energies to any one -calling; shiftless is the word best fitted to set him -forth. He had lived in different parts of the far -West, had been dissatisfied with all places because -a failure in all, and had come to spend the remainder -of his days with his brother in Chicago. Here, he -declared, a man could not find disappointment, for -no man of sense expected anything but permission -to breathe and to keep out of the way. Friends -knew that he was the Judge's standing joke, a -family laughing stock, a humorous burden, a necessary -idleness. Of course, it was natural for him to -feel that he owned the place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard and George Bodney were bred to the -law, and recently had been admitted to the bar. The -"starvation period" of the average young lawyer did -not arise out of dull prospect to confront them; they -were to make their way, it was true, but they could -study and wait. Howard was ambitious, and his -mind was grasping. It was said that he "gulped" -a book. He did not stop at the stern texts which -were to serve as a part of his necessary equipment, -but gave himself excursions among those graces of -half-idle minds which light a torch for souls that -may be greater. He peeped into the odd corners of -thought. Once he startled his father by declaring -that genius was the unconscious wisdom of ignorance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the reflection of hard work," said the old -man. The boy was the corner-stone of his hope; -he wanted to feel that his work was to go on, -generation after generation, a pardonable vanity, but -a vanity nevertheless. He wanted the boy to be -practical, for a speculative youth is not a good -perpetuator of a father's career. And on one occasion -the boy was taken gently to task for reading a -decadent book.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I like to brush up against different minds," said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But nothing is gained by brushing against a diseased mind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We might learn something from a mad dog."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But all of value that we may learn from him," -said the old man, "is to keep out of his way. I -must request you not to read such books."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney had not distinguished himself. He appeared -to be restless and dissatisfied with himself -and with his prospects. He thought that the law -afforded but a slow and tedious way to make money, -and deplored the shortsightedness of his father and -his benefactor for not having invested in the -mud-hole. Nervousness may inspire force of character, -but it more often induces weakness. In many -respects Bodney was weak. But the Judge, who -should have been a shrewd observer of men as well -as of principles, did not see it. In the "youth of -old age," a man who, in his younger days, may have -been keenly of the world, sometimes turns upon -life the goggle eye of optimism.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After his retirement from the bench and the more -active affairs of the law, the Judge fitted up an office -at his home, with desks, long table covered with -green baize, books and safe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One evening Bodney sat alone in the home office, -deeply brooding. The household was at dinner, -and he heard the hearty laughter of the Judge. He -was joking with a guest, a preacher, a good fellow. -The young man's brow was dark. Of late he had -formed an association with a man named Goyle, -clearly an adventurer, but a man to inflame the -fancy of a morbid nature. Bodney and Goyle had -been much together, at the house and at the office -down town, but no one made any objection. -Personal freedom was a hobby with the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were two doors leading into the office, one -opening into a hall, the other into a passageway -communicating directly with the street. Through -the door opening into the passage Goyle entered. -He carried a valise in his hand. Bodney looked up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Halloa, Goyle," said he. "Come in."</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 63%" id="figure-93"> -<span id="halloa-goyle-said-he-come-in"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""Halloa, Goyle," said he. "Come in."" src="images/img-012.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"Halloa, Goyle," said he. "Come in."</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what I'm doing," Goyle replied, putting -down the valise near the door and advancing -toward the desk at which Bodney was seated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down," said Bodney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what I'm going to do," Goyle replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sat down, and for a time both were silent. -"Where's everybody?" Goyle asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bass laughter of the Judge and the contralto -of a woman's mirth were heard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At dinner," said Bodney, nodding toward the -dining room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you eat?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sometimes," Bodney answered, and then after -a short silence he asked: "Did you get my note?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you think?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you're scared," said Goyle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney gave him a quick look. "Who wouldn't be?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wouldn't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you would. It's this way, and there's no -other way to it: The old man has missed money -from the safe. He hasn't said so, but I can tell by -the way he acts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle smiled. "Well, but no one but himself -knows the combination of the safe. He doesn't -know that you found a piece of paper with the -figures on it, does he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course not, but it won't be long before he -begins to suspect someone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which, necessarily, fastens it on you. Is that it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doesn't it look like it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it might," said Goyle. "That is, if you let it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney looked at him with reproach. "If I let it. -How the deuce can I help it? You don't suppose -he'd suspect his son Howard, do you? No man -could trust a son more than he does."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle shrugged his shoulders. "Didn't trust -him with the combination of the safe, did he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, for it's his idea of business not to trust -anyone absolutely. He laughs and jokes all right -enough, and says that this is a fine old world, but -he hasn't quite forgotten that he practiced law -among rascals."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Goyle, leaning back and stretching -himself. "This soft air makes me lazy. It's not -natural, you know, to be comfortable in Chicago. -What were we talking about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney turned upon him almost fiercely, but the -visitor looked at him with the self-command of -impudent laziness. He was not given to starts. He -was born a rascal, and had cultivated his legacy. -Coolness may be a virtue; it is also the strongest -weapon of the scoundrel, and Goyle was always -cool. He motioned with his hand, bowed, smiled, -and Bodney's anger was gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't get hot, old man," said he. "Everything -is all right. If it isn't, we'll make it so. Oh, yes, -we were talking about the old gentleman's -suspicions. And we've got to take care of them. If -I understand it, Howard is to marry your sister. -You are all of a family. Your father and the Judge -were law partners years ago, and you and your -sister were adopted by—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney waved his hand impatiently. "We know -all about that. Yes, and he has been a father to -me and I have been—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A villain, necessarily," Goyle broke in. "Villainy -is born in us, and for a time we may hide out -our inheritance, but we can't get away from it. And -it's only the weak that struggle against it. The -lamb is born with wool and the dog with hair. No, -we can't get away from it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But we needn't delight in it," said Bodney, with -a faint struggle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, and we needn't lie down on it, either. But, -to business. The Judge must know who took the -money from the safe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney started. "What, do you think I am -going to tell him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle yawned. "No, you must show him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Show him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. He must see his son Howard take the money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney stood up and looked down upon him. -"Goyle, are you a fool, or do you take me for one? -Must see Howard take the money! What do you -mean? Do you think I can bribe Howard to take -it? I don't understand you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down," said Goyle, and Bodney obeyed, -looking at him. Goyle lighted a cigarette, turned -and pointed to the valise. "The thief is in that -grip, and the Judge must see him take the money -from the safe. Listen to me a minute. Among my -numerous accomplishments I number several -failures—one as an actor. But we learn more from a -failure than from a success. All right. I heard -Howard say that tonight he is going to a reception. -In that grip is his semblance—make-up. At the -proper time, after Howard is gone, you must lead -the Judge in here and see me, as Howard, take -money from the safe. On the mother's account the -old man can be made to keep quiet—to hold his -tongue, and not even say anything to his son. He -changes his combination, the affair blows over—and -we've got the money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Monstrous!" exclaimed Bodney, jumping up -and glaring at Goyle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think so? Sit down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney sat down. "Yes, I do think so," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, the crime or the—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Both. And the trick! Anybody could see -through it. It's nonsense, it's rot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes? Now, let me tell you, Brother Bodney, -that life itself is but a trick. The world worships a -trick—art, literature, music—all tricks. And what -sort of art is the most successful? Bold art. What -sort of scoundrel is the most admired by the world? -The bold scoundrel. Bold art, my boy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But art has its limits and its rules," Bodney -feebly protested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle dropped the stub of his cigarette upon the -floor. "Yes, rules for imitators to follow. Originals -break rules. Rules are made by weaklings to -hamper the success of the strong. You've got to -take the right view of life," he said, slowly lifting -his hand and slowly letting it drop upon his knee. -"We are living in the nervous atmosphere of -adventure and bold trickery. The spirit of this town -hates the stagnant; we wipe our muddy feet on -tradition. To us the pig squeal of the present is -sweeter than the flute of the past. You and I are -intellectual failures, and why? The town is against -us. Put an advertisement in tomorrow -morning's newspaper—'Graduates of Harvard and -Yale wanted, fifteen dollars a week,' and see -how many answers you'll get. A cartload—and -from men who were turned out prepared -to fight the battle of life. Think of it. -The man who has had his mind trained to failure, -whose teaching has made him a refined weakling, -with a mind full of quotations and mystic theories—that -man has a cause to be avenged upon life, upon -society for misleading him. Hear them laughing in -there? You don't hear me laughing. I've got -nothing to laugh about. You and I know that there -isn't any future beyond this infernal life. Then, -why hesitate to do anything that works toward our -advantage here? I'm talking to your reason now. -We have gambled, and we have lost." He turned -and shook his finger at the valise. "The thief, I tell -you, is in that grip, and he will get us out. If it -fails, of course, we are done for, but we are done for -if we don't try. I know it's a bold trick, but that's -in its favor. It's too bold to be expected or -understood. It's no time to think of gratitude. We've -got to act. Give me the combination."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They got up, and Bodney stood trembling. He -seemed to be struggling to break loose from -something that held him in its grasp. Goyle gazed into -his eyes. Bodney put up his hand as if to shield -them from a dazzling light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me the combination."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney tore loose from the something that -seemed to be gripping him, and started on a run -toward the door. Goyle caught him, put his hand on -him, held him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hear them coming. Give me that piece of paper."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney gave him a slip of paper. Goyle took up -the valise. "Come on," he said, and Bodney -followed him out through the door leading into the -passage.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-family-joke"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE FAMILY JOKE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Judge, his brother William and the Rev. Mr. Bradley -entered the office. "Yes, sir," said the -Judge, "I'm delighted that you have been called to -Chicago. We are full of enterprise here, religious -as well as secular. Sit down. And we push -religious matters, Mr. Bradley. Here everything takes -up the vigorous character of the town. You know -that one of our poets has said that when the time -comes we'll make culture hum." Bradley sat down, -smiling. "William," said the Judge, still standing, -"can't you find a chair?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I believe so," William replied, sitting -down. "But why do you make everybody sit down -and then stand up yourself? Mr. Bradley, my -brother John is a browbeater. He forgets that he -ain't always on the bench."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge winked at Bradley, and laughed. He -was full of good humor, sniffing about on the scent -of a prank, and when all other resources failed, he -had the reserve fund of his brother, the family joke, -the humorous necessity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You remember," said Bradley, "I told you, some -time ago, that it was my ambition to have a charge -here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge, standing in front of him, began to -make convincing motions with his finger, laying -down the law, as William termed it. "It's the field, -Bradley. You can raise more money in a church -here than—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it is not that, Judge," the preacher broke in. -"Chicago presents a fertile opportunity for doing -good, for making men better, life more worth -living, and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Death more certain," William suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My brother doesn't like it here," said the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley turned his mild eyes upon the brother -and in the form of a question, said, "No?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William cleared his husky throat. "I have lived -further West, where a fellow may make you get -out of a stage-coach at the muzzle of a pistol, but he -won't sneak up and slip his hand into your pocket."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My brother took a whirl at the board of trade," -said the Judge. He sat down, lighted a cigar, and -offered one to Bradley. "Won't you smoke?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not now," Bradley answered. "I am trying to -break myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go down to the board of trade," William -suggested. The Judge laughed, and looked as if he -were proud of his family joke. "Won't you smoke, -William?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," replied the humorous necessity, "I'll wait -till I go to my room and then smoke sure -enough—a pipe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Smoke it here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I'll put it off—always enjoy it more then. -I recollect the tenth of June, sixty-three—was it the -tenth or the eleventh? Anyway, a party of us were -going—it was the eleventh. Yes, the eleventh. I -was only a young fellow at the time, but I liked a -pipe, and on that day—no, it must have been the -tenth. John, did I say the eleventh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you hung a little in favor of the -eleventh, William." He winked at Bradley. "And I -was sorry to see it, too, for of all the days in June, -the tenth is my favorite."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William looked at him and cleared his throat, but -the Judge wore the mask of seriousness. The -brother proceeded: "Well, I'm reasonably certain -it was the tenth. Yes. Well, on the tenth of June, -sixty-three, a party of us were going over to—yes, -the tenth—over to—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold on a moment," said the Judge. "Are you -quite sure it was the tenth? We want it settled, -don't we, Bradley? Of course, you are much -younger than we are, Bradley, but you are old -enough to enter into the importance of this thing. -As far as he can, a preacher should be as exact as -a judge." Bradley nodded, laughing, and the flame -of William's anger burst forth.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Confound it, John, don't you suppose I know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope so, William," said the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William snorted. "You don't do anything of the -sort, and you know it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, if I don't I know it, of course, but—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you be confound. You are all the time—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go ahead with your story."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll do nothing of the sort, sir; I'll do nothing -of the sort. You are all the time trying to put it -on me, and I'll do nothing of the sort; and the first -thing you know, I'll pick up and leave here. I was -simply going to tell of something that took place -on the—Mr. Bradley, did I say the tenth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The preacher had not been able to keep a straight -face, but with reasonable gravity he managed to say -that the tenth was the final date agreed upon. "By -all parties concerned," said the Judge, puffing at his -cigar. William scratched his head. "But, after all, -it must have been on the eleventh."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Knocks out my favorite again," the Judge muttered, -but William took no notice of the interruption. -It is the duty of a family joke to be forbearing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ab Tollivar came to me on that day," William -began, "and said that there was to be—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On the tenth—came to you on the tenth?" the -Judge broke in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I said the eleventh."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"William, I beg your pardon," the Judge -replied, "but you said the tenth, raising my hopes, -for you well know my predilection for that day. In -many ways a man may be pardoned for recklessness, -but not in the matter of a date. The exact -time of an occurrence is almost as important as the -occurrence itself. History would lose much of its -value if the dates—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John, when you get into one of your tantrums -you are enough to make a snow man melt himself -with an oath. You'd make a dog swear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not before me when I was on the bench. But -your story. Ab Tollivar came to you and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll not tell it." He got up and glared at the -Judge. "Oughtn't I to know what day it was on?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, and I believe you do. Sit down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll do nothing of the sort, sir. I'll not sit here -to be insulted by you or anybody else." He moved -off toward the door, but before going out, halted, -turned, and said: "Mr. Bradley, I'll tell you the -story some other time. But John shall never hear -it." He gave his head a jerk, intended for a bow of -indignation, and strode out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's the dearest old fellow in the world," said -the Judge, "and I couldn't get along without him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't he somewhat younger than yourself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, two years. Come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge entered the dingy room, brightening -it with her presence. "Won't you please -come into the drawing room?" she said. "It is so -dreary in here. Judge, why do you bring visitors -to this room? After the Judge retired from the -bench, Mr. Bradley, he decided to move the main -branch of his law office out here, and I didn't think -that he would make it his home, but he has; and, -worse than that, he makes it a home for all his -clients. They can stroll in from the street at any -time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A sort of old shoe that fits everybody," said the -Judge. "The only way to live is to be comfortable, -and the only place in which to find comfort is in a -room where nothing can be spoiled."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But won't you phase come into the drawing room?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, my dear, as soon as I am done smoking."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you may smoke in there. Do come, please. -The girls want to see Mr. Bradley. Won't you -make him come?" she asked, appealing to the -preacher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, very shortly," replied Bradley. "If he -doesn't drop his cigar pretty soon we'll have him -driven out with Mr. William's pipe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The threat is surely dark enough," she rejoined. -"Don't be long, Judge," she added, turning to go. -"Agnes declares that you shall not drag Mr. Bradley -into your den and keep him shut out from civilized life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Agnes was a Miss Temple, a visitor, bright and -full of mischief. And during all the talk the -preacher's mind had been dwelling upon her, the mischief -in her eyes and the dazzle of her smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Temple is an exceedingly charming -woman," he said, when Mrs. Elbridge had quitted -the room. "She and Miss Bodney were schoolmates, -I believe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, and although much separated, have not -broken the gauze bonds of school fellowship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gauze bonds, Judge?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The beautiful but flimsy friendship of girlhood."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Younger than Miss Bodney, I fancy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, a year or so. She lives in Quincy, and is -here for a month, but we shall keep her longer if -we can. She is a source of great entertainment. Of -course, you have noticed Florence closely—you -couldn't help it. She is one of the sweetest -creatures that ever lived, and she has character, too. I -couldn't think more of her if she were my daughter—and -she is to be my daughter. She and my son -Howard are soon to be married. It is the prettiest -romance in life or fiction. They are near the same -age. They went to school hand in hand—sat beside -each other at table, year after year, and in innocent -love kissed each other good-night. They don't -know the time when they made their first vows—upon -this life they opened their eyes in love; an -infant devotion reached forth its dimpled hand and -drew their hearts together. Beautiful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The preacher was thoughtful for a few moments, -and then he said: "The Spirit of God doing the -work it loves the best. And they are soon to be -married. May I hope to—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall join them together, Bradley."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, thank the memory of your father. I knew -him well. He was my friend at a time when -friendship meant something to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the young woman's brother, Judge. I -haven't seen much of him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"George Bodney? A manly young fellow, sir, -quiet and thoughtful. He and Howard are to take -up the law when I put it down—indeed, they have -begun already."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a happy man, Judge."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge leaned back in his chair and was -thoughtful; his cigar had gone out, and he held it -listlessly. "Yes, for the others are so happy." He -dropped the cigar stub upon the ash tray, roused -himself, and said: "Nothing bothers me now. I -am out of the current of life; I am in a quiet pool, -in the shade; and I don't regret having passed out -of the swift stream where the sun was blazing. No, -I am rarely worried. Yes, I am annoyed at times, -to be perfectly frank, now, for instance, and by a -most peculiar thing. I—er—a friend of mine told -me a story that bothers me, although it is but a -trifle and shouldn't worry me at all. He is a lawyer, -situated very much as I am. He has been missing -money from his safe. No one but himself knows -the combination. He couldn't suspect either of his -sons; they didn't know the combination—not to be -considered at all. He doesn't keep large sums on -hand, of course; just enough to accommodate some -of his old-fashioned clients who like to do -business in the old-fashioned way. It bothered him, for -he took it into his head that he himself was getting -up at night and in his sleep taking the money from -the safe and hiding it somewhere. For years, -whenever he has had anything important on hand, he has -been in the habit of waking himself at morning -with an alarm clock. And I told him to set the -clock in the safe and catch himself. He has done -better than that—has fixed a gong so that it will -ring whenever the inner drawer of the safe is pulled -open. Of course, it is nothing to me, but—ah, come -in, Agnes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your wife has sent a bench warrant for you," -said the young woman, entering the room and -shaking her finger at the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To be served by a charming deputy," said Bradley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She laughed. "No wonder preachers catch -women," she replied. "I'm glad I struck you. I -was afraid I might miss."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge arose and bowed to her. "We might -dodge an arrow but not a perfume," said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Mr. Judge, when did you come from the -South?" she cried. "But are you going with me? -There are some more people in there; a young -fellow that looks like a scared rabbit. But he's got -nerve enough to say cawn't. I told him that if he'd -come to Quincy we'd make him say kain't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Bradley," said the Judge, "we are prisoners. -Come on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley halted a moment to speak to Agnes. -The Judge turned and asked if Howard and George -Bodney were in the drawing room. She replied -that Howard had gone or was going to a reception -and that Mr. Bodney was somewhere about the -house. She had seen him passing along the hall -with Mr. Goyle. Just then, in evening dress, -Howard came into the room. "I thought I heard -Florence in here," said he, looking about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Going to leave us?" said the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, to bore and be politely bored. I want -Florence to see if I look all right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I wonder," cried Agnes, "if any man will -ever have that much confidence in me. There -she is now. Florence, here's a man that wants you -to put the stamp of approval upon his appearance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard turned to Florence. "I wanted you to -see me," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've been looking for you," she replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley, in an undertone, spoke to the Judge. -"I can see the picture you drew of them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," replied the preacher, with the light of -admiration in his honest eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Agnes spoke to Howard. "It must have been -nearly half an hour since you and Florence saw each -other. What an age," she added, with the caricature -of a sigh. "But come on, Judge, you and -Mr. Bradley." She led the two men away, looking back -with another mock sigh at Florence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I may not be back till late," said Howard, "and -I couldn't go without my good-night kiss."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She smiled upon him. "I knew that you had -not forgotten it. And yet," she added, looking at -him—"and yet I was anxious."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anxious?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but I didn't know why. Howard, within -the past few days my love for you has taken so—so -trembling a turn. We have been so happy, and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what, Florence?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know, but something makes me -afraid now. You know that there are times when -happiness halts to shudder."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He put his arm about her. "Yes, we are sometimes -afraid that something may happen because it -has not. But it is only a reproachful fancy. We -see the sorrow of others and are afraid that we don't -deserve to be happy. But I must go," he added, -kissing her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She continued to cling to him. "Do I look all -right?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know—I can't see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can't see?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. Love, which they say is blind, has blinded me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He kissed her again. "But if love blinds, -Florence, it would make a bat of me. You are serious -tonight," he added, looking into her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I am." The sound of laughter came from -the drawing room. "Yes, I am, and I must go in -there to be pleased. Howard, do you believe that -anything could separate us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really, you are beginning to distress me. I have -never known what it was to live without you, and I -couldn't know it. But cheer up, won't you? To-morrow we—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I will," she broke in. "It was only a -shadow and it has passed. But I wonder where -such shadows come from. Why do they come? -Who has the ordering of them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they were walking toward the door opening -into the hall, William entered from the passage, -smoking his pipe, his thin hair rumpled as if he had -just emerged from a contest. Howard and Florence -did not see him, and he called to them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, there, Howard, I thought you were going out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man halted and looked back with a -smile. "Don't you see me going out, Uncle Billy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now look here, young fellow!" exclaimed the -old man in a rage, his hair seeming to stand up -straighter, "I don't want to be Uncle Billied by you, -and I won't have it, either. Your daddy's got it in -for me lately, and I'll be hanged if I'm going to put -up with it much longer. And Florence, you'd better -speak to him about it. I want to give him every -opportunity to mend his ways toward me, and you'd -better caution him before it's too late. Do you -understand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Uncle William," she answered. "And I -will speak to him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, see that you do. And, mind you, I wasn't -certain whether it was on the tenth or the eleventh; -I was willing to give either the benefit of the doubt; -I—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right, Uncle William," said Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man glared at him. "It's not all right, -sir, and you know it. But go ahead. I don't -belong to the plot of this household, anyway. I'm -only a side issue." Howard and Florence passed -out, and he shouted after them. "Do you hear me? -Only a side issue."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then Bodney came in. "You are a what, -Uncle William?" he asked, looking about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I said a side issue."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you haven't got sense enough to know, I -haven't the indulgence to tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where did you get that pipe, Uncle William?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I got it in the Rocky Mountains," said the old -fellow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must have come there about the time the -mountains arrived. Whew!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, look here, George Bodney, don't you -bring up the tail end of an entire evening of insult -by whewing at my pipe. I won't stand it, do you -hear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney undoubtedly heard, but he did not reply; -he went over to the desk and began to look about, -moving papers, as if searching for something. "I -left my knife here, somewhere," said he. "Must -have a little more light." He turned up the gas -drop light on the table, went back to the desk, and, -pretending to find his knife, turned down the drop -light lower than it had been before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's no use to put out the light simply -because you've found your knife," said William. "It -may be to your advantage to have it dark, but I like -to see. I haven't always lived in this soot and -smoke; I have lived where I could see the sky from -one year's end to another."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon," said Bodney, "but how long -do you expect to stay in this room?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't pay any attention to me. I don't -belong to the plot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What plot?" Bodney exclaimed, with a start.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, the plot of this household—the general -plot of the whole thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, I see," said Bodney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad you do. And, here, just a minute. -The Judge and I had a difference tonight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a serious one, I hope."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Devilish serious. Wait a moment. I set out -by admitting that I was not exactly certain whether -it was on the tenth or the eleventh. But I settled it, -finally, I think, on the eleventh. I—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eleventh of what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of June, sixty-three. On that day, as I started -to tell them—now, I want to be exact, and I'll tell -you all about it." The old man sat down, crossed his -legs, took a few puffs at his pipe, preliminaries to a -long recital; but the young fellow, standing near, -began to shift about in impatience. "I remember -exactly what sort of a day it was. There had been a -threat of rain, but the clouds—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't care anything about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, I don't care anything about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The hell you don't! Why, you trifling rascal, I -raised you; you owe almost your very existence to -me. And now you tell me that you don't care -anything about it. Go on out, then. You shan't hear -it now, after your ingratitude." Bodney strode out, -and the old man shouted after him, "I wouldn't tell -you that story to save your life." Laughter came -from the drawing room. William grunted -contemptuously. "There's John telling his yarns. And -that preacher—why, if I couldn't tell a better story -than a preacher—" He broke off and got up with -sudden energy. "But they've got to hear that -story. They can't get away from it." And -muttering, he walked out briskly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney stepped back into the room. He looked -at the light, turned it lower, sat down and, leaning -forward, covered his face with his hands. But he -did not remain long in this position; he got up and -went to the safe, put his hand upon it, snatched it -away, put it back and stood there, gazing at the -light. Then he went to the door and beckoned. -Goyle, disguised as Howard, walked in with -insolent coolness. In Bodney's room he had dressed -himself, posing before the glass, arranging his -bronze beard, clipping here and there, touching up -his features with paint—and Bodney had stood by, -dumb with astonishment. The dress suit, -everything, was complete, and when he came out he -imitated Howard's walk. Bodney could not help -admiring the superb control he had of his nerves; but -more than once he felt an impulse to kill him, -particularly when, in response to the beckoning, he -stepped into the office.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If it fails, I shoot you," Bodney whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rot. It can't fail. Don't I look like him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. You would deceive me—you—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Art, bold art," said Goyle. "A man ought to be -willing to die for his art. Turn the light a little -higher."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, it's high enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle walked over leisurely and turned up the -light. "That's better. We must give him a chance -to see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait a moment," said Bodney, as Goyle took -his position at the safe. "Wolf, I want to -acknowledge myself the blackest scoundrel on the earth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not necessary. Taken for granted. Go ahead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney turned to go, but hesitated at the hall -door and seemed again to struggle with something -that had him in its grasp. Goyle motioned, and -said, "Go ahead, fool." Bodney passed into the -hall, and Goyle began to turn the knob of the safe, -holding his paper to catch the light. He heard -the voice of Bodney. "It won't take long. I want -you to help me—" The door swung. Goyle pulled -open the drawer, and then followed three sharp -strokes of the gong, just as loud laughter burst -from the drawing room. Goyle jumped back. The -Judge rushed in, with Bodney clinging to him. -Goyle turned as if he had not seen the Judge and -rushed from the room. Bodney struggled with the -Judge, his hand over his mouth, and forced him -down upon a chair. "Judge, father, not a word—for -his mother's sake. You must freeze your heart for -her sake." The old man dropped with a groan, -Bodney bending over him.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-94"> -<span id="goyle-began-to-turn-the-knob-of-the-safe"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Goyle began to turn the knob of the safe." src="images/img-038.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Goyle began to turn the knob of the safe.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-night-came-back-with-a-rush"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE NIGHT CAME BACK WITH A RUSH.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Bodney led the Judge to his room on the second -floor, where he left him almost in a state of collapse. -He spoke of calling Mrs. Elbridge, but the old man -shook his head, which Bodney knew he would do, -and in a broken voice said that he wanted to be left -alone. At the time when the Judge left the drawing -room with Bodney, Bradley was bidding the family -good-night, but lingered a moment longer to join -the company in a laugh at William, who, having -settled his date to his own satisfaction, had forgotten -the point of the story.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney's room was on the first floor, off the -passage, and, going thither, he found Goyle sitting -on the side of the bed, not as Howard, but as -himself. The scoundrel declared that it had worked -like a charm, but that the clang of the gong had -prevented his getting any money. That, however, -was a minor consideration. He needed money, it -was true; he had not expected much, but even a -little would have helped him greatly. A lower order -of mind might have brooded over the disappointment, -but his mind was exultant over the success -of his art. He argued that if his impersonation of -a son could deceive a father, he might bring forth -a Hamlet to charm an audience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How is he?" Goyle asked, as Bodney stepped -into the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't talk to me, now," said Bodney, sitting -down. He took up a newspaper and fanned himself. -"For a time I wished that I had killed you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes? And now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish that you had killed me. Tell me, are you -a human being? I don't believe you are. I don't -believe that any human being could have the -influence over me that you have had—that you still -have, you scoundrel. I wish I could stab you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. My arm would fall, paralyzed. I used to -scout the idea of a personal devil, but I believe in -one now. He is sitting on my bed. He has -compelled me to do something—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It worked like a charm, George; and now, old -fellow, don't hold a grudge against me. I have -taught you more than you ever learned before; I -have shown you that a man can do almost -anything—that men are but children to be deluded by -trickery. There, for instance, is a judge, a man who -was set up to pass upon the actions of men. What -did I do? Convinced him that his own son is a -robber. Was that right? Perhaps. Why should -such a man have been a judge? What wrongs may -not his shortsightedness have caused him to -commit? We can't tell. He may have committed a -thousand unconscious crimes. But an unconscious -crime may be just as bad as a conscious one. He -has been sitting above other men. Now let him -suffer; it is due him. And his son! What does he -care for you or me? He reads, and thinks that he -is wise. He has stuffed himself with the echo of -feeble minds; and now let him wallow in his -wisdom. Look at me. Are you sorry for what we -have done? Look at me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney made an effort to get up, but his strength -seemed to fail him, and he remained as he was, -gazing at Goyle. "George," Goyle continued, his -eyes glittering, "I was the hope of a father, a better -man than Judge Elbridge. But he was ruined by -honest men and died of a broken heart. That was -all right; it was a part of life's infamous plan. -Everything is all right—-a part of the plan. My -friends called me a genius; they believed that I was -to astonish the world, and I believed it. I bent -myself to study, but one day the bubble burst and I -felt then that nothing amounted to anything—that -all was a fraud. The world is the enemy of every -man. Every man is the natural enemy of every -other man. Evil has always triumphed and -always will. The churches meet to reform their -creeds. After a while they must revise out -God—another bubble, constantly bursting. Then, why -should there be a conscience? That's the point I -want to make. Why should you and I suffer on -account of anything we have done? Everything -you see will soon pass away. Nothing is the only -thing eternal. Then, let us make the most of our -opportunities for animal enjoyment. The animal -is the only substance. Intellectuality is a shadow. -Are you sorry for what I have done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He fixed his glittering eyes upon Bodney, and, -gazing at him, Bodney answered: "No, I am not. -It was marked out for us, and I don't suppose we -could help it; but somehow—somehow, I wish -that I had killed you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What for? to cut off a few days of animalism—to -make of me an eternal nothing? That wouldn't -have done any good."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would have prevented the misery—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle stopped him with a snap of his fingers. -"For how long? For a minute. It will all pass -away. Be cheerful, now. We haven't any money -as a reward of our enterprise and art, but we have -let the life blood out of all suspicion attaching to us. -Let us go to bed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You go to bed. I will lie on the floor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No use to put yourself out, George. I'll lie on -the floor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Bodney, and Goyle let him have his -way. The hours passed, Bodney lying in a restless -stupor, but Goyle slept. Sunlight poured into the -room and Bodney got up. He went to the window -and stood to cool his face in the fresh air. He -looked back at the bed. Goyle was still sleeping, -breathing gently. The horror of the night came -in a rush. And there was the cause of it, sleeping -in peace. Bodney snatched open a drawer and -seized a razor. Goyle turned over, with his face -toward the window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, up? What time is it, George?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney dropped the razor and sat down. "It is -time to get up," he said. Goyle got out of bed and -began to exercise himself by striking out with his -fists. He had passed, he said, a night of delicious -rest, with not a dream to disturb him. He whistled -merrily as he dressed himself. Bodney stood with -his elbow resting on the marble top of the -"bureau," his face yellow and haggard. Glancing down -into the half closed drawer, he saw the razor and -shuddered at the sight of it. With his left hand he -felt of his right arm, gripping it from shoulder down -to wrist as if in some strange manner it had been -deprived of strength. Goyle moved toward him -and he pushed against the drawer to close it, but the -keen eye of the "artist" fell upon the open razor, -and glittered like the eye of a snake. But he showed -no sign of fear or even of resentment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will stay to breakfast with you," he said, -putting his hand on Bodney's shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish you wouldn't," Bodney feebly replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no you don't. Come, brace up now. My -part of the work is done, but yours is just -beginning. I have saved you from suspicion, but you -must keep yourself saved. That's right, brighten -up. Now you are beginning to look like yourself. -Why, nothing so very bad has been done. We -have enacted a little drama, that's all. Such things, -or things on a par with them, are enacted every -day. The newspapers are full of stranger things. -We haven't hired a 'castle' and entered upon a -career of wholesale murder; we haven't cut up a -woman and made her into sausage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The voice of William was heard in the passage, -scolding a housemaid for disturbing his papers. -The old man tapped on the door and Goyle opened it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, you here?" said the old man, stepping into -the room. "You'd better go in to breakfast. Well, -sir, I never saw anything like it in my life. I can't -put a thing down and find it where I left it. George, -what's the matter with you this morning?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing at all, sir. I had a headache and didn't -sleep very well. That's all. Is the Judge up yet?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe not. And when he does get up I want -to have a talk with him. I'll be hanged if he didn't -get that preacher to laughing at me last night—laughing -at me right here in my own house. I can -stand a good deal, but when a preacher laughs at -me, why things have gone too far."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle smiled upon him. "But, Mr. Elbridge, a -preacher means quite as little when he laughs as -when he talks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This pleased the old man, and he chuckled, his -fat sides shaking. Bodney smiled, too, and Goyle -gave him a look of approval and it appeared to -brighten him. He dressed himself hastily, turning -occasionally to heed a remark made by Goyle or the -old man, and when he stepped out of the room to go -with them to breakfast, his face was not so yellow, -nor his countenance so haggard.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="stood-looking-at-them"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">STOOD LOOKING AT THEM.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>About two hours later Florence was sitting alone -in the drawing room when Howard entered. She -asked him if he had seen his father that morning. -He sat down on a sofa beside her and said, after -a moment's reflection:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I have seen him? Why did you ask?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She seemed worried and did not immediately -answer him. He repeated his question. "Because -he spoke of you at breakfast," she said. "He didn't -appear at all well—sat staring about, and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That explains it," said Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Explains what?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His treatment of me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Treatment of you? Has anything gone wrong?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, in the office, just now. When I went in he -jumped up from his desk, threw down a hand full -of papers, and stared at me—muttered, seemed to -struggle with himself, sat down, and asked me to -leave him alone. He never acted that way toward -me before. I'm afraid he's ill. Why, he's the most -jovial man in the world, and—I'm worried. I don't -understand it. If he's sick, why didn't he say so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, but don't let it worry you, dear," -she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it does, Florence, to be turned upon in that -way. What did he say about me at the table this -morning? He surely wasn't angry because I didn't -get up in time for breakfast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely not. He didn't say anything, only asked -where you were, and kept staring at the place -where you sit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And is that the reason you asked me if I had -seen him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that and the fact that he didn't appear to -be well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't understand it. Why, he has joked with -me all my life, sick or well. It hurts me." And, -after a slight pause, he added: "I wonder if he -turned on George, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It wouldn't seem so, for as he was going out of -the breakfast room he put his hand on brother's -shoulder and leaned on him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney came in at that moment, and, looking -about, asked if they had seen Goyle. As he was -going out, Howard called him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, George, just a moment. Have you noticed -anything strange about father this morning?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Bodney was master of himself when he -answered: "Nothing much. Only he didn't seem -to be as well as usual. It will pass off. I wonder -where that fellow is?" He strode out, and they -heard him talking to Goyle in the hall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Put his hand on George's shoulder and leaned -on him," Howard mused, aloud. "Then he is not -well. George knows it and doesn't want to distress -me by telling me. Did he sit up late?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. Mr. Bradley had to go early, and just as -he was taking his leave brother stepped in and -asked your father to help him with an important -matter—some abstract of title, or something of -the sort, and they went out and he didn't come back. -I don't want to distress you, but your mother said -that he walked the floor nearly all night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did she? And George knows more than he is -willing to tell. But why do they try to shield me? -It would be all right to shield mother if anything -were wrong, but if there's a burden, I ought to help -bear it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She besought him not to be worried, assuring him -that nothing had gone very far wrong and that -everything would come right. The clearness and -the strength of her mind, her individuality, her -strength of character, always had a quick influence -upon him, and he threw off the heavier part of his -worry and they talked of other matters, of the -reception which he had attended the night before. -He repeated a part of a stupid address delivered by -a prominent man, and they laughed at it, he declaring -that nearly all men, no matter how prominent -or bright, were usually dull at a reception. And, -after a time, she asked: "What sort of a man is -Mr. Goyle?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, he's all right, I suppose; smart, full of odd -conceits. I don't know him very well. He comes -into the down-town office quite frequently, but he -rarely has much to say to me. George seems to be -devoted to him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Florence shook her head, deploring the intimacy. -"I don't like him," she said. "And Agnes says she -hates him. She snaps him up every time he speaks -to her." She looked at Howard, and saw that his -worry was returning upon him. She put the hair -back from his forehead, affection's most instinctive -by-play, and said that he must not be downcast at -a mere nothing, a passing whim on the part of his -father. "And it was only a whim," she added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But whims make an atmosphere," he replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not ours, Howard—not yours, not mine. Love -makes our atmosphere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said, putting his arm about her, "our -breath of life. Florence, last night you were -depressed, and now I am heavy." Their heads, bent -forward, touched each other. "And your love is -dearer to me now than ever before." Their faces -were turned from the hall door. The Judge silently -entered, and, seeing them, started toward them, -making motions with his hands as if he would tear -them apart. But Howard, after a brief pause, spoke -again, and the old man halted, gazing at them. -"Florence, you asked me, last night, if anything -could separate us, and now I ask you that same -question. Could anything part us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," she said, "not man, not woman, nothing -but God, and he has bound us together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With silken cords woven in the loom of eternity," -he replied; and the Judge wheeled about, and, -with a sob, was gone, unseen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What was that?" Florence asked, looking round. -"It sounded like a sob."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We were not listening for sobs and should not -have heard them," he replied. "It wasn't anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William came in, clearing his throat. "Don't let -me disturb you," he said, as they got up. "I don't -belong to the plot at all." He began to look about. -"I left my pipe somewhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think it's here, Uncle William," said -Howard. "You surely wouldn't leave it here; and, -besides, I don't hear it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There came a sort of explosion, and upon it was -borne the words, "What's that? You don't hear it? -You don't? Now what have I ever done to you to -deserve such an insult? Ha! What have I done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, nothing at all, Uncle William."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then why do you want to insult me? Haven't -I been your slave ever since I came here? Haven't -I passed sleepless nights devising things for your -good? You can't deny it, and yet, at the first -opportunity, you turn upon me with an insult."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Uncle Billy," said Florence, "he wouldn't -insult you. He was only joking."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard assured him that he meant no insult, -whereupon the old man said: "All right, but I -know a joke as well as anybody. I have joked with -some of the best of 'em in my time, I'll tell you -that. But it's no joke when you come talking about -not hearing a man's pipe. It's a reflection on his -cleanliness—it means that his pipe is stronger than -a gentleman's pipe ought to be. But I want to tell -you, sir, that it isn't. It's as sweet as a pie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard said that he knew the import of such an -accusation. "But," he added, "I was in hopes that -it was strong, not to cast any reflection, you -understand, but to show my appreciation of what you -have done for me. I was going to give you that -meerschaum of mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man's under jaw dropped. "Hah? Well, -now, I do believe that it has got to be just a little -nippy; just a little, you understand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish it were stronger than that, Uncle Billy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do? Howard, you have always been a -good friend to me; our relations have been most -cordial and confidential, and I don't mind telling -you—to go no further, mind you—that my old pipe -is as strong as—as a red fox. Yes, sir, it's a -positive fact. Er—where is your pipe?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In my room. You may go and get it as soon -as you like."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, and I'm a thousand times obliged to -you. Florence, did that preacher go away so -suddenly last night because I settled the fact that it -was on the tenth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, he left because he had an engagement."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," drawled the old man, "I don't know -about that. Why, confound him, I've got a right to -settle it as my memory dictates. Does he think -that I'm going to warp my recollection just for him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What was it all about, Uncle Billy?" Howard asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"About a story I was going to tell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you tell it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did I tell it! Well, after a fashion; after they -had badgered me. Then I made a mess of it. How -do you expect me to tell a story when—look here, -ain't you trying to put it on me? Hah, ain't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what you mean, Uncle William."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you don't. The whole kit of you are devilish -dull all at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You surely don't include me," said Florence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not you, Florence, but all the men about -the house. Why, I went up to John, just a while -ago, and I'll be hanged if he didn't snap at me like -a turtle—told me to get out of his office. Shall I -tell you what he said? He said that last night he -went to hell and was still there. There's something -wrong with him, as sure as you live."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard turned away and began to walk up and -down the room. "There it is again," said he. "I -no sooner convince myself that it might have been -a mere whim when something comes up to assure -me that it is something worse. And the look he -gave me, Florence. It hurts me." He walked -toward the door. Florence asked him if he were -going to his father. He turned and stood for a -moment in silence. "No, I am going down town. I -don't feel right. I am hurt. But don't say -anything to him, please. I am going to wait and see -what comes of it. And please don't say anything -to mother." He took his leave, and Florence went -to the window and looked after him as he passed -down the street. She spoke to William. "I -wonder what the trouble is," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," William replied, ruffling his -brow, "but as for that preacher—the first thing he -knows, I won't let him come here. John has -insisted on his dropping in at any time, because he -used to know his father, but I'll attend to that. -Why does a great, strong fellow as he is want to -throw away his time? Why doesn't he get to -work?" He sat down and, looking toward the piano, -asked Florence to play something. "I'd like a -tune quick and high-stepping," he said. She told -him that she was in no humor. "In that event," -he insisted, "you might play the Maiden's Prayer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not now, Uncle William. Here's Agnes. -She'll play for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I won't," said Agnes, coming into the room. -Florence expected the old fellow to snort his -displeasure at so flat a refusal, but he did not. He -bowed to her and said: "Now, that's the way to -talk. I like to have a woman come right out and -say what she means. Well," he added, getting up, -"I am not in your plot, anyway, so I'll bid you -good morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as William was gone, Agnes went to -the piano, seated herself on the stool and began -to ripple on the keys. "There are times when we -feel like dabbling in water but don't want to swim," -she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you are dabbling now," Florence spoke up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only dabbling. Oh, I forgot; your dressmaker -is out there, and I came in to tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad you didn't forget it entirely. Oh, and -I must tell you something. Brother says that -Mr. Goyle is smitten with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Agnes, still rippling, turned half way round, -sniffed and turned back. "I hate him so hard that -it's almost second cousin to love," she declared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't let it be any closer kin, Agnes. There is -always danger in a first cousin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Agnes, still rippling, sniffed contemptuously. -"He's been following me around all the morning. -How I love to hate him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The voice of Mrs. Elbridge was heard, calling -Florence, who answered that she was coming, but -she halted long enough to say to Agnes, mischievously, -that she might learn to love him if she loved -to hate him. Both love and hate were kindred -passions, with but a thin partition between them. As -she was going out, Agnes shouted after her that, -if she ever loved him she would hate herself, and -then, just as Goyle and Bodney entered the room, -she added: "We tar and feather such fellows in -Quincy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do what in Quincy?" Bodney asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Agnes, without looking round, repeated: -"Tar and feather such fellows."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle knew that she meant him, but instead of -kindling resentment, her words aroused in him an -additional interest in her. He looked at her as in -the rhythmic sway of her graceful form, the nodding -of her shapely head, she kept time with a tune, half -remembered, half improvised; and, turning to Bodney, -he asked in tones too low for the girl to hear: -"Has she got any money?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think she has."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave me alone with her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you want to snatch her purse?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you suppose I want a hair pin, a pearl -button, a scrap of verse, and a three-cornered piece -of silk that no man can match? I mean, has she -got any money in her own name?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I haven't asked her, but I think she has."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then leave me alone with her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney stood looking at him. There was a continuous -fascination in the fellow's affrontery. "All -right," he said, but quickly added: "We've got to -go down town, you know. I'll step into the office -and wait till she gets through with you. You may -hypnotize me, but—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle cut him off with a gesture. "Nonsense! -When she gets through with me! Cool, coming -from a man whose honor I have saved at the risk -of my own. But no cooler than the bullet you -threatened me with."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish I had given it to you," said Bodney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you? It's not too late, if you are bent on -murder. But that's all right," he broke off, with a -wave of the hand. "Leave me alone with her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney went out and Goyle sat down on a sofa, -gazed at the girl, cleared his throat, coughed; but -she did not look round. "What are you playing? -May I ask?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have asked," she replied, without looking -round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you haven't told me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She left off playing, and slowly turned on the -stool to face him. "A tune they played in Quincy -one night, when they tarred and feathered a man," -she said. And then, with a smile of sweet -innocence, she added: "You were never in Quincy, -were you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I was never tarred and feathered there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Possibly an acknowledgment that you were -never in the town. Oh, somebody told me that you -were once connected with opera."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then somebody flattered me. I couldn't sing -in a chorus of scissors grinders."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A sort of Chinese opera, I inferred," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, that's about the only sort I could sing in. -Chinese opera, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that's what I inferred. It was something -about Sing-Sing. Isn't that Chinese?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it sounds like a joke," said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And it wasn't?" she asked, in surprise. "Then -it was serious opera instead of comic. They call -serious opera grand, I believe. And is that the -reason they call larceny grand—because it is serious?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a time he sat in a deep study of her. How -different from the nervous and impressionable -weakling who had just left the room; and in looking -at her he felt that his eyes refused to glitter with a -snake-like charm; they were dull and flat, and he -drew his hand across them. "Do you know that I -like you?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I do not bring up an unpleasant recollection."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, a beautiful vision." And now he had more -confidence in his eyes, for he got up and moved -toward her. She slipped off the stool and stood -looking at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you play something for me?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want to play. I don't feel like it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let your fingers dream over the keys."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My hands aren't asleep." She moved off from him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You aren't afraid of me, are you?".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked him in the eye. "My grandmother -killed a panther," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He drew his hand across his eyes; he recalled -what Bodney had said—about her getting through -with him. In the dictionary of slang there is a word -to fit him: the resources of his "gall" were -boundless. "Why don't you like me?" he asked. "Am -I ugly in your sight? Do I look like a villain?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you looked more like a villain you'd be less -dangerous."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's cruel. We may not see each other again. -Won't you shake hands with me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the use of shaking hands with a stranger -we are never to see again," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if we shake hands," he persisted, "we may -not be strangers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No? Then, we'll not shake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William strolled through the room, halting just -long enough to assure them that he was not trying -to break into the plot. "He's a queer duck," said -Goyle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish there were more of his feather," she -replied. "He can pass through without stopping."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And so could I but for you," he rejoined.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She snapped her eyes at him. "What nerve tonic -do you take?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nature's. She gives me a tonic whenever I look -at you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She laughed at this, and she said: "I am woman -enough to like that sort of talk, but I don't like -you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You like my talk, but don't like me. Why this -discrepancy? Why don't you like me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know. You give me the creeps."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are very frank."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, the creeps would make anybody frank."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney appeared at the door and cleared his -throat to attract attention, and he was bold enough -to ask her if she had got through with him. "Long -ago," she answered. "And now you may have him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle bowed to her. "Mr. Bodney and I may -go out of town for a day or two—or, at least, I -may. Will you permit me to hope to see you upon -my return?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, certainly," she said, and he felt that at last -he was making some sort of progress. "I thank -you," he replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there was something more to follow. "You -can hope that you may, and I will hope that you -may not," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle bowed, and looked at her, admiringly. -"Miss Needle-tongue," he said. "But you catch me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney told him to come on, but he lingered a -moment longer. "May I tell you good-bye?" he -said, and she replied that she hoped so. As the two -men were going out the Judge came in. Goyle -glanced at him, but Bodney averted his eyes. The -old man's face smote him with reproach.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="she-said-that-she-was-strong"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">SHE SAID THAT SHE WAS STRONG.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Agnes, accustomed to joke with the Judge, now -looked at him in astonishment; his face was -haggard and his eyes appeared hot with suffering. But -he had not forgotten his dignified courtesy. He -bowed to her, bade her good morning, as if he had -not seen her earlier in the day, said that he was -looking for Florence, and asked if she would please -find her, that he desired to see her—alone. Agnes -went out at once to find Florence, wondering what -could have happened to throw so serious a cast -upon the countenance of the Judge; and, left alone, -the old man walked slowly up and down the room, -talking to himself. "I don't know how to tell her, -but she must know of it. It is my duty to tell -her." He paused, looked toward the door, and continued: -"I am striving to master my heart by smothering -it; I must be the master of a dead heart." He -paused again and resumed his walk. "Yesterday -the world was a laugh, but today it is a groan. I -wonder if he saw me. No, and toward him I must -bear the burden of silence. A mother's heart would -see the accusation in his face, and I must protect -her. To keep her shielded is now my only duty -in life. That decadent book! It was a seed of -degeneracy. Ah, come in," he said, as Florence -appeared at the door. Howard had called her eyes the -searchlights of sympathy; and she turned those -lights upon the old man's face as she came into the -room, slowly approaching him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you send for me—father?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father," he repeated with a catch in his breath -that sounded like a sob. "My dear, it comes sweet -from your lips, but it falls upon me with reproach." He -stood with bowed head, and Florence put her -hand on his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the matter, father? Why, you need -a doctor. Let me call—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" came from him like a cry of pain, as he -stepped back from her. "You must call no one. -Wait a moment. Oh, I've got iron in me—but it is -cold, Florence—cold. Wait a moment. Wait."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stood looking at him, wondering, striving to -catch some possible forecast of what might follow, -but in his face there was no light save the dull hue -of agony. Gradually he became calmer, and then -he said: "I am going to tell you something; it is -my duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, I am listening."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But are you strong enough to hear what I have -to say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Does it take strength to hear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In your case—yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I am strong." She moved closer and -stood resolutely before him, looking into his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Florence, I know your character; I know that -your word is too sacred to break, but this is—is an -unparalleled case, and you must be put under oath."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Judge, instead of administering an oath, you -ought to take medicine. Why, I never saw you -this way before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was about to turn away from him, but he -took her by the arm. "Look at me. You never -saw me this way before. No. In all my experience -I have never heard of a man being so situated. I -am a novelty of distress. And you must know what -my ailment is, but you must take an oath, a sacred -oath, not to speak of it to any human being."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if it is so awful, why should I know it? Tell -it to a physician."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is my duty to tell it to one human being, and -you are the one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I will take the oath."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold up your right hand." She obeyed him. -"You swear never to repeat what I tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I swear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the memory of your mother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, by the memory of my mother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you hope that the Eternal God may frown -upon you if you do not keep your oath?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Judge, this is awful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you going to back out now? Are you -afraid?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not afraid. I hope that the Eternal God -may frown upon me if I do not keep my oath."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took her hand, the hand held high, and said -to her, "You will keep your oath. It was disagreeable -to take it, but the measure was necessary. And -now comes the agonizing part of my duty—and I -wish I had died before being compelled to -discharge it. Florence, you know that I love you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, I know it—could never have doubted -it. But why do you speak of it? What has it to -do with—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait. This shall be explained. You must not -marry my son."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stepped back from him and from her clear -eyes, always so sympathetic, there came a flash of -anger. "You are mad, Judge," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I grant it. He drove me mad—he sent me to hell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you would drag me there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would save you. It is a duty I owe to the -memory of your father and to my own love for you. -Yes, it is my duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And it is my duty," she said, with now the light -of sympathy in her eyes, "to send for a doctor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait. You have not heard. Remember you -have sworn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, and I will keep my oath. No, I have not -heard. You have told me nothing. You have -simply been mad enough to say that we must not -marry." The sympathy had gone from her eyes. -"You must know that Howard and I have -all our lives lived for each other. I owe -you nearly everything, I would make -almost any sacrifice for you, but when you -even intimate—but I will not reproach you," -she said, softening again. "You have not told me -why," she added, looking into his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My child, it would break your heart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She straightened and put her hand upon her -bosom. "I offer my heart. Break it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Florence, my son Howard is a thief."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She snatched her hand from her bosom and -raised it as if to strike him, but one look of agony -from his eyes, and her hand fell. "Judge, how can -you say such a thing? Something has tripped your -mind, but how could it fall so low?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My mind has not been tripped. It is as firm as a -rock. And you cannot doubt my word. Last -night I saw him stealing money from the safe, as -if I had not always supplied all his wants, and at -an alarm which I had fixed, little dreaming who -the thief might be, he ran away—a thief. You -cannot doubt my word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Stern of countenance and with her eyes piercing -him, regal as the barbaric queens we find in -ancient fiction, she stood, and the moment of her -silence seemed an age to him. "I pity your word -and I doubt your eyes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may pretend to, but you cannot in your -heart. You must believe me when I say that I saw -him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You saw a vision. Your eyes have lied to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I saw no vision. My eyes told a heart-breaking -truth. Florence, would you marry a thief?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir, I would marry Howard if I knew that he -had stolen a hammer to nail a god to the cross."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man wheeled away from her with a cry. -"Oh, crumbled hope—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge swept into the room, gazing at -the Judge. "Why, what is the matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man gripped himself together. "Why, I—I -have just received a dispatch, telling me—telling -me that my brother Henry is dead. Don't tell -William—brother Henry is dead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge went to him and put her arm about -him. "And you loved him so," she said. "Poor, -dear man, but we must bow to it, and pray for -consolation. Don't—don't grieve so, dear. Where -is the message?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man looked at Florence. "It distressed -him so that I tore it to pieces and threw it away," -she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge gave her a grateful look. "I thank -you," he muttered.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-wexton-club"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE WEXTON CLUB.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When Goyle and Bodney left the house they went -to a place known as the Wexton Club. This -institution was not incorporated under the laws of -the state, but its affairs were conducted under a law, -the law that governs the game of poker. The -public dinner pail gaming house, the pickpocket of the -laborer, had been closed; the grave-countenanced -faro dealer and the sad-eyed man who turned the -roulette wheel; the hoarse-voiced "hazard" operator, -and the nimble and enterprising thief of the "stud -poker" game, now thrown out of visible employment, -stood at the mouth of the alley waiting for -"good times" to return. "Bucket-shops" broke -out in new places, once in a while, and there was -the occasional raid of a poolroom, but it was agreed -that public gambling was a thing of the rough and -disgraceful past. But the poker clubs! They were -not traps set for the man in overalls. His pennies -and dimes were not solicited. Of course, if he -saved up capital to the amount of five dollars, and -came with a reasonable appearance of respectability, -he could get into the game, but he was not wanted. -The board of trade men, the race horse man, the -merchant, doctor, lawyer, and particularly the fool -with money, furnished the life blood of the -enterprise. Shrewd gamblers risked their money and -pronounced the game "straight." And it was -"straight." The "house" could not afford to permit -any "crooked" work. Its success, the "rake off," -depended upon its own fairness to everyone -playing in the game. But the "sucker" does not need -to be cheated to lose. His own impulses will sooner -or later rob him of all the money he can borrow, -beg or steal. The man who plays for recreation -wants it, not after a long season of waiting for a -good hand, but at once; and putting in his money -he draws to "short" pairs or to every four straight -or four flush. He may have an encouraging spurt; -he may make a hardened player wince and swear -under his breath or even above it, but in the end, -and it comes on apace, he shoves it back, broke, and -the old-timer rakes in the money. Within recent -years several fine young fellows of good standing -and of bright prospects have looked for diversion in -poker and have found state's prison. The road to -the penitentiary is paved with four flushes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the Wexton, Goyle had introduced Bodney as -his friend, Mr. Ramage, and out of that familiarity -which comes of constantly gazing into a man's -countenance, in the effort to determine what he -holds in his hand, they shortened his name to Ram. -The young lawyer had played with friends, and had -won, not because his friends were kind to him, but -because they were as experimental in drawing cards -as himself, and because they were possessed of -equally as much curiosity. The "gentleman's game" -is a trap door, and it is easy enough to fall from -"Billy" and "George" and "Tom," down into a hell -on earth. This is not a tirade against gambling, -for the horrors of that vice have engaged the ablest -of pens, but to give life in poker clubs as it really -exists, the attractive with the distressful. Indeed, -the distress is not seen in the club. The victim gets -up with a jocular remark, and silently goes out, -wishing that he were dead, and resolving deep -within his disconsolate heart that he will never enter -the place again. Then his heart lightens. He is -saved. He has lost money that he could not afford -to lose, the very bread of his family; but he will do -so no more. He has strength of purpose, an object -in life, a position to maintain. He is now grateful to -himself for his own strength of will. The next -morning he goes dull and heavy to his business. -He shudders as he enumerates the amount of money -that he has lost within the past few weeks; counts -it all up, and then, with a sickening pang, recurs -a forgotten sum, borrowed from a friend and not -yet returned, though he had promised to "hand" it -back the next day. The details of his business are -wearisome. At noon he goes out. At the "Club" -they serve a meal, better than he can get at a -restaurant. He will go there, but not to play. He -plays, to get even—will try it once more; and at -evening he sends a message to his wife—"detained -on important business." He has several checks, -and one by one they melt away in the pot. He is -broke. He wants more chips. He has money in -the bank, he declares; but the man at the desk is -sorry to inform him that it is a rule of the "house" -not to take personal checks. He is angry, of course. -He wants to know why a check which he offered -earlier in the evening was accepted, and is told -that the other check was different, that it was signed -by a name better known than his. Then he tries to -borrow from the men who have won his money; -he knows them well, for he has played with them -day after day. They have laughed at his jokes, -when with the fool's luck he has drawn to "short" -pairs and won. They have no money to lend—would -really like to accommodate him, but have -obligations to meet. And so he goes heavily down -the stairs again, with murder in his heart. But his -heart lightens after a time. He will never, so help -him God, play again. But he does. Ah, it is less -bad to be bitten by a mad dog.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle was but an indifferent player. He well -knew the value of a hand, but was too impatient to -wait. But no despair fell upon him when he lost. -He did not look forward to a time when circumstances -or the force of his own resolution might -set him beyond the temptations of the game, but -to the time when luck might give him enough -money to put him in the game. Bodney, however, -was bound soul and body. He could hardly think of -anything else. Dozing to sleep he saw aces and -kings; asleep, he drew to flushes and straights. In -his sleep he might win, but only in his sleep. His -soul seemed to have been created for this one -debasing passion. It was his first, for though -impressionable, no enthusiasm had ever mastered him, -and love had never set his heart aflame. But now -he was an embodiment of raging poker, not for -gain, but for the thrill, the drunkenness of playing. -His bank account, never large, was gone. For -himself and for Goyle he had taken small sums of -money from the Judge's safe, and had lived in the -terror of being confronted with the theft. And he -actually believed that had the old man accused -him or even strongly suspected him he would have -killed himself. Suspicion was now averted, but at -the cost of what infamy! He could face Howard; -he could endure with a show of self-control the -agonized countenance of the old man; but remorse -gnawed him like a rat. It was not to be supposed -that Florence would be enlightened as to the -coolness which, of necessity, must fall between Howard -and the Judge, but it could not be otherwise than a -grief to her. He could look forward and see the -wonder in her eyes, and then the sorrow that must -come to her. It is one of the misfortunes of a -weak man to have a strong conscience, a -conscience with not enough of forecast to prevent a -crime, but one which agonizes when a crime has -been committed. His only solace was to play. -Then his mind was chained to the game, the -dealing of the cards, the scanning of his hand, to the -thrill of winning, the dull oppression of losing. -Upon entering the club he had been surprised to -see so many old and venerable looking men sitting -about the tables. One had been a prominent -lawyer; another, a doctor, had turned from a fine -practice to waste his substance and the remainder of his -days. There was good humor, an occasional story -of brightness and color, but upon the whole the -place was sad, everyone seeming to recognize that -he was a hopeless slave. The scholar turned -poker-player, thinks and talks poker. He forgets his -grammar, and puts everything in the present tense. -"How did you come out last night?" someone asks, -and he answers, "I lose." Many of those men -would not have gone to a "regular" gaming house; -they would not have played faro or roulette, but -the blight of poker fell upon them, to weaken them -morally, to make them liars. Sometimes an old -fellow, getting up broke, would turn moralist. One -said to Bodney: "The chips you see on the table -don't belong to anyone. You may go so far as to -cash them and put the money into your pocket, but -it isn't yours. You may spend it, but you will -borrow or steal to make it good to the game." Among -those daily associates engaged in the enterprise of -"wolfing" one another there was a fine shade of -courtesy. No one can be politer or more genial -than a winner, and a loser is expected to shove over -the pot which he has just lost, in case the winner -cannot reach it. In return for this the loser is -permitted to swear at his victor, but etiquette demands -that it shall be done in a mumble, as if he were -talking to himself. The winner can stand a great -deal of abuse. In the game there were usually two -or more players put in by the "house," cool -fellows, educated to know the value of a hand or the -advantage of a position. They were the "regulars," -the others the militia. The dash and the fire of the -militiaman sometimes overrode the regular, but -there was no question as to the ultimate result. -The regular knew when to put down a bad hand; -he could be "bluffed" by the militiaman. But he -could afford to wait; he was paid to sit there; it -was his business. Bodney, however, could not wait. -With him, impulsive hope was leaping from deal to -deal, from card to card, from spot to spot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Goyle and Bodney arrived the members -of this family of interchangeable robbery were -ranged at a long table in the dining room, eating -in hurried silence or talking about the game. -Occasionally someone would venture an opinion of a -race horse or a prize fighter, but for the most part -the meal was solemn and dull. Laughter was not -unknown, but it was short, like a bark. This does -not mean that there was a want of fellowship in the -club, but eating was looked upon as a necessary -interruption.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are just in time," said the proprietor of the -house, not a bad fellow, a business man, accommodating -as far as he could be, yielding sometimes -to the almost tearful importunity of a fool to the -extent of lending him money never to be returned. -"Sit down. Fine weather we're having."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A champagne day," said Goyle, sitting down -and spreading a napkin across his knees. "How's -the game going?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, fairly well. We've got a good run of -customers. They know that they are perfectly safe -here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's become of that fellow they called Shad?" -asked a man at the end of the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that fellow from Kansas City? He's gone. -I didn't want him. I think he'd snatch a card."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney was silent. He could hear the rat gnawing -at his conscience, and he yearned for the moral -oblivion of the game. Leaving Goyle at the table, -he arose, and walked up and down, then went into -the room where the game was forming. He had but -fifteen dollars, but with this amount he felt that he -could win. He bought ten dollars worth of chips, -musing upon the fact that he had a reserve fund of -five dollars. The game was all jackpots, twenty-five -cent ante, and three dollar limit, except when the -pot was doubled, and then the limit was five dollars. -While a man at his side was shuffling a deck of new -cards, Bodney began to meditate upon the policy -which he intended to pursue. He would not draw -to a flush or straight except when there were several -"stayers," for then the percentage would warrant -the risk. He would not draw to a pair below kings, -nor open on jacks next to the dealer. If the pot -were opened and came around to him, even without -a raise, he would not stay on a pair of queens. -If he opened on one pair and was raised, he would -lie down. He would not stand a raise under kings -up. Goyle came in, bought twenty dollars worth -of chips, and took a seat on the opposite side of the -table; and the game proceeded, with seven players. -Bodney opened on a pair of kings. All passed -around to Goyle. He looked at his hand a moment, -and said: "Only one in? Well, I've got to stay. -Give me that one," he said to the dealer, meaning -that he wanted one card. "Got two little pairs here, -and I won't raise you unless I help." Bodney drew -three cards and did not help his kings. He bet a -white chip. "Now I'll go down and look," said -Goyle. "Bet you three dollars," he added. Bodney -was smoking. He puffed at his cigar. "I don't -know about that," he said. "What do you want to -raise me for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Got to play my hand, haven't I?" Goyle replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney put his cigar on the table and thought. -"Well, you've got 'em or you haven't. I'll call -you." He threw in three blue chips, and Goyle spread a -flush. "Thought you said you had two little pairs," -said Bodney, as Goyle raked in the pot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hadn't looked at my hand very close."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You knew what you had all the time. Stayed -on a four flush with only one man in. Of course -you can always make it against me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The deal went round and round, and occasionally -Bodney won a pot, once a large one, and now as he -stacked up his chips he felt at peace with the world. -He laughed and joked with a man whom he had -never met before; he did not see how he could lose. -He threw off the rigor of his resolution, and drew to -a pair of sixes, caught the third, raised the opener -three dollars, and won the pot against aces up. -Then his senses floated in a limpid pool of delight. -Goyle opened a pot. Bodney raised him, having -kings up. "I've got to stay," said Goyle. "Give me -one card." Bodney drew one and made a king full. -His heart leaped with joy. "What do you do?" he -asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bet three dollars," said Goyle, putting in the -chips, and Bodney was almost smothered in exultation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I raise you three."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Raise you three," said Goyle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you as strong as that?" Bodney remarked, -striving to hide the delight that was shooting -through him. "Well, I'll have to raise you three."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle began to study. "Well, if you can beat a -jack full, take the money." He put in his three -dollars. "King full," said Bodney, and Goyle threw -down his cards with an oath. "Of course you -couldn't make that against anybody but me. It's -what a man gets for not playing his hand before the -draw. I ought to have raised you back. Had three -jacks all the time. But I didn't want to beat you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Looked like it when you made that flush."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's ancient history."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney did not reply. He was behind a bulwark -of chips, and his heart beat high. He began to tell -a story. The winners were interested; the losers did -not hear it. In the midst of the story, just below -the climax, he had a hand beaten for six dollars, and -the story, thus broken, fell into silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What was that story you were going to tell?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It didn't amount to anything," said Bodney, but -not long afterward he won a ten dollar pot, found -the fragments of the story, lying at the bottom of -silence, and gave them voice. The winners laughed; -the losers did not hear it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A minute legitimately employed may seem an -hour; an hour at a poker table may be but a minute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Someone asked the time. Bodney looked at his -watch, and said that it was five o'clock. He was -nearly seventy dollars ahead, with the reserve fund -still in his pocket, and was resolved to quit very -soon. Just then Goyle emerged from a contest, -broke. "Let me take ten," said he. Bodney -hesitated a moment. "Say, I've got to pay for—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'll give it to you tomorrow. Let me take ten."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He passed over the chips, but with a feeling of -depression. "I may be broke pretty soon," said he. -"And I can't let you have any more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Broke pretty soon! Why, you're even on your -whole life. You got all my money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I haven't won as much from you as you have from me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right. My day may come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney was determined to play no longer than -dinner time. Then he would cash in. Goyle's stack -grew to the amount of thirty dollars. Bodney was -glad to see it grow; ten dollars of it belonged to -him. He did not care for ten dollars; he had loaned -Goyle ten times ten, and did not expect to recover -the sum, but chips were different, and especially -now that they fed his passion and dulled his -conscience. Goyle got up. "Let me have that ten till -tomorrow," said he, and Bodney did not say -anything, but his spirits felt a sudden weight. He was -pleased, however, when Goyle went out, for there -were to be no more raids upon his stack. Dinner -was announced. He motioned to an attendant upon -the game, and his chips were taken over to the desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Going to quit us?" a man asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. This is the first time I've won," he added, -by way of apology.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have dinner before you go," said the proprietor, -coming forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know that I've got the time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just as well. You've got to eat anyway."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went out to dinner, and was permitted to be -vivacious. An old fellow, sitting on his right, -remarked: "I'm glad to see you win." Others said -that they were glad to see him win. It was surely a -very genial company.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="went-out-to-dig"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WENT OUT TO "DIG."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>After dinner, when the game was reorganized, -Bodney looked on for a few moments, still alive -to the keen pleasure of winning; and just as he was -about to go out, a thought struck him. What was -the use of quitting now that he had luck? He had -waited for it a long time, and now that it had -arrived he was going to throw it away. He might just -as well win a hundred and seventy as seventy. He -could at least try ten dollars, and quit if he found -that fortune was against him. There was one vacant -seat and he took it. Ten dollars and not a cent -more. That would leave sixty to the good, -enough to play on for a long time. So he bought -ten dollars worth of chips and was again forgetful -of the Judge, of Howard, of Florence, of the world. -After a few hands he picked up a straight, seven -high. He raised the opener, who promptly raised -him in return, giving him the other barrel, as the -saying went. Bodney raised again. He was to get -action on all the money in front of him. The dealer -said "cards," and the opener, tapping the table with -his cards, replied, "Help him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you want any?" Bodney eagerly asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't hear me call for any, did you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I don't want any either," said Bodney, in -faltering tones. A seven high straight looked weak -against a pat hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turn 'em over, boys," said the man in the look-out chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney tremulously spread his hand. "Only -seven high."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just top you. Mine's eight high. You had me -scared, and if you'd have more money and bet me -after the draw I don't think I call."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That might have been true, but it offered no -consolation to Bodney. "Just my luck," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When a man gets them sort of hands beaten -he's got to lose his money," said the "look-out." "There's -nothing to it." A man standing near was -waiting for Bodney's seat. He shoved back and -was about to get up, pursuant upon the resolution -which he had formed when, it occurred to him, as -it always does, that with ten more he could win back -the ten just lost. It was simply an accident that the -fellow held over him. He would try ten more. His -luck was gone, but he expected every moment to -see it return. He opened a pot on aces and tens. -A fool stayed on deuces, caught his third, and -slaughtered him. He bought ten more. His spirits -were heavy and he sighed distressfully. It was -not the loss of the money; it was the harassing -sense of being beaten. He opened another pot on -queens up. One of the regulars raised him. He -began to reason. "He would raise it on two pairs -smaller than queens up. I saw him raise just now -on sevens up. I'll stand it." He put in his money -and drew one card. The regular drew one. The -prospect was not bright, still it was not so bad. He -did not help. He bet a white chip; the regular -raised him three dollars and he called. Then the -regular had recourse to a joke, new to Bodney, but -old to the game. "I have the waiter's delight," -said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The waiter's delight," and he spread a tray full.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At ten o'clock, Bodney's capital, including the -reserve fund, amounted to twenty dollars. "You -beat me every time," he said, to an offensive fellow -who sat opposite. It was the stranger with whom -he had laughed early in the game.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what I'm here for."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right. I'll get you yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He won several pots, and then opened a double -pot for five dollars. He had a king high flush, and -he intended the heavy opening to operate as a -reverse bluff, to argue a small hand. The offensive -fellow stayed and drew one card. He made a small -full and Bodney felt his heart stop beating. At -eleven o'clock he had simply the five dollar reserve -fund. And he saw it melt away—saw his last chip go -in. He drew, having a show for the pot, and made -jacks up. The opener had queens up. Heavy of -heart, Bodney went down the stairs. He cursed -himself for playing after dinner. "If I only had -ten dollars I might win it all back," he mused. -"They can't possibly beat me all the time. I played -as good cards as anybody. I wonder where I can -get ten dollars. Everybody that knows me has -gone home by now. Let me see. I know a fellow -over at that drug store. But I've forgotten his -name. Wonder if he'd let me have ten. I'll try -him." He went into the drug store, saw the man -standing behind the counter, walked up, reached -over and shook hands with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How's everything?" Bodney asked.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 66%" id="figure-95"> -<span id="how-s-everything-bodney-asked"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""How's everything?" Bodney asked." src="images/img-086.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"How's everything?" Bodney asked.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, pretty fair. How is it with you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right. Say, old man, a college chum of mine, -devilish good fellow, came in just now on a train -and happened to catch me at the office—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes?" said the druggist, looking at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, and the fact is, he got here broke and has -called on me to help him out. He's a devilish good -fellow, and I don't exactly know what to do. Every -one I know has gone home, and—could you let me -have ten till tomorrow? You can count on it then."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I guess so, but I'm rather short."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll give it to you tomorrow without fail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went out with a ten dollar note crumpled -in his hand. A man may fail to get rent money, -clothes money, bread money; he may meet with -obstacles that he cannot overcome; his self-respect -withholds him from asking favors of certain men. -But the fool in hot quest of poker money knows no -self-respect, recognizes no embarrassments that -might stand in modesty's way. Bodney bounded up -the stairs, afraid that the game might have broken -up. Panting and tremulous, he pressed the electric -button. A negro porter pulled aside a blue curtain, -peeped through the glass and opened the door. The -game had not broken up. Every seat was taken, -the regulars, with chips stacked high before them, -the "suckers" squirming with "short money." How -dull and spiritless everything had looked when -Bodney went out, and now how bright it all was, the -carpet, the window curtains, the pictures on the -walls. The room was large, affording ample space -for a meditative walk up and down, and as he was -too nervous to sit still, he walked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Think there'll be a seat pretty soon?" he asked -of the man at the desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very soon, I think. Sit down and make yourself -comfortable. Have a cigar." He lighted the cigar -and resumed his walk. Passing the table he saw a -man in the death throes of a "show-down." Some -one had opened a pot and he had been compelled to -stay. Bodney eagerly watched the draw. The -opener drew one card. The "show-down" man had -to draw four, presumably to an ace. This was -encouraging to Bodney. He was the next in line; he -would get the seat. He leaned forward to catch the -result. The opener had tens up. The four-card -draw yielded a better crop, aces up, and with a sense -of disappointment and injury Bodney resumed his -walk. But pretty soon a man cashed in, and the -young lawyer bought five dollars worth of chips, -and took his seat. He won the first pot, the second -and the third, but without stayers. Surely his luck -had returned. Again he felt a current of pleasure -flowing through his mind. He laughed at a stale -joke. It had never sounded so well before. A man, -the offensive fellow, now quite a gentleman, began -to tell a story, and Bodney encouraged him with a -smile. "I knew a man once, a preacher, by the -way," said he, "who got into the habit of playing -faro; I guess he must have played before he began to -preach, and found that he couldn't quit. Some -fellow that was kin to him croaked, and left him a -lot of money. Then he knew he wouldn't play any -more. Well, one day he went by the bank where he -had his money, and pretty soon he says to himself: -'Believe I'll draw out just a small sum and try my -luck once more—just once.' Well, he kept drawing -on that money till it is all gone. Nothing to it, you -know. Then one night he gets down on his knees -and prays. 'Lord,' says he, 'if I ever play again I -hope you'll make me lose.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he play again?" Bodney asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; he keep right on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And did he lose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. He coppers his bets."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney was immensely tickled at the idea of the -fellow "coppering" his bets to offset the influence -of the Deity, and he laughed uproariously, but just -then he lost a pot, and his mirth fell dead. And -after this every time he opened a pot someone -would raise him. After a while he dragged out his -last five dollars and invested in chips. Then he -sank into the condition known as "sifting," anteing -and never getting a pair. Behind him stood a man -waiting for his seat. He saw his last chip melt -away and he got up, so heavy that he could hardly -stand. The fellow who had told the story, and to -whom Bodney had paid the tribute of most -generous laughter, dealt the cards and skipped Bodney -without even looking at him. But Bodney looked -at him, and how offensive he was. "I'd like to cut -his infamous throat," he mused. Down the stairs -again he went, heavier and more desperate than -before. It was now past midnight. "Now what?" he -said, halting on a corner and wiping his hot face. -"I don't know what to do, but I almost know I -could win out if I had ten more. But I don't know -where to get it. There's no use to look for Goyle. -I wonder if that fellow at the drug store would let -me have another ten. I'll go and see." He crossed -over, went into the drug store, and asked the -squirter of soda water if his friend was there. No, -he had gone home. "Is there anything I can do for you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I don't know. By the way, you've seen -me in here a number of times, haven't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes. And I used to see you over at the -other place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I remember, now. And your name is—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Watkins."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that's a fact. I remember you now. How -are you getting along, Watkins?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, I used to know you," said Bodney. -"And I guess you are about the best in your line."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man smiled. "Well, that's what they say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I've heard a good many people say it. -Well, you understand your business. Say, can you -do me a favor? I need ten dollars till tomorrow -morning, and if you'll let me have it, I'll—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man shut him off with the shake of the head. -"I haven't got ten cents," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney stepped out. "Come in again," the fellow -called after him. He did not reply, except in a -mumble, to hurl imprecations back over his shoulder -at the soda-water man. "He's a liar, and I'll bet -he's a thief. Now what?" he added, halting on the -corner. He looked up and down the street, and -scanned the faces of the passers-by, hoping to -recognize an acquaintance. Presently a man rushed up -and with a "helloa, old fellow," grasped him by the -hand. Bodney gripped him; he did not recall his -name, but he held him close. "I haven't seen you -for some time," said Bodney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not since we were out on Lake Geneva, -fishing for cisco."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a fact. Say, everybody has closed up, -and I need ten dollars till tomorrow morning. Can -you—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was just going to ask you for five," said the -cisco fisherman. "I went over here at three -sixty-one, and got into a little game of poker and got -busted. Ever over there? Now, there's a good -game, only two dollars limit, but it's liberal. There -ain't a tight wad in the house. Come up some time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney got on a car to go home. He had just -five cents. The talking of two women and the -frolicking of a party of young fellows annoyed him. -And then arose before him the sorrowful face of -his sister. The rat had come back with his teeth -sharpened, and he felt his heart bleeding. He -fancied that he could hear the dripping of the blood. -Then came upon him the resolve never to play -another game of poker. It was a sure road to ruin, -to despair. He would confess to Howard and the -Judge. The car stopped and Bradley, the preacher, -got on, sitting down opposite Bodney, who, upon -recognizing him, arose and warmly shook his -hand. "I am delighted to see you, Mr. Bradley. -You are out thus late for the good of humanity, I -suppose, or rather I know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can only hope so," replied the preacher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Some sort of meeting of preachers for the -advancement of morals, Mr. Bradley?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, a dinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, a good dinner contributes to good morals."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If not over-indulged in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, if there is a virtuous lack of wine, such as -must have been the case tonight." He continued to -stand, holding a strap, and meditating upon future -procedure, for there was a purpose in the cordiality -with which he had greeted the minister, a purpose -now fully developed. "By the way, I must come -down again tonight—am going home to get some -money. Late this evening I received a note, telling -me that a friend of mine, a divinity student, was -exceedingly ill. I hastened to the number given -and found him in a poverty-stricken room, lying -upon a wretched bed, without a nurse, almost -delirious with suffering. I knew that he was poor, -that he had bent his energies to study to the neglect -of material things, but I had not expected to find -him in so deplorable a condition. So I am now on -my way home to get ten dollars. I went to several -places, hoping that I could borrow, but failed to -find any one whom I knew well enough to ask for -a loan, even for so short a time as tomorrow. But -perhaps you could let me have it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I'll go with you—at once. What is the -young man's name?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Patterson. But he's so peculiar that he might -not like to see a stranger. He begged me not to -say anything about his condition."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley gave him ten dollars, and he did not wait -to reach the next street crossing, but jumped off -the car, sprang upon a cable train going north, and -was soon climbing the stairs leading to the Wexton -Club. The same negro admitted him, and again he -was afraid that the game might have dissolved, -merely to cheat him of victorious reprisal, but it -was still in progress, with one vacant seat. This -time he invested his entire amount. The feeling of -security, inspired by a reserve fund, favored an -over-confidence, he fancied; it was better to know that -there was nothing in reserve; it enforced caution. -He played with varying luck till about twelve -o'clock, till a regular smote him, hip and thigh; -and then, like the captain, in the version of the poem, -not recited to ladies, he staggered down the stairs.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="saw-the-black-face-grim-without-a-smile"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">SAW THE BLACK FACE, GRIM, WITHOUT A SMILE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was nearly daylight when Bodney reached -home. As he stood on the steps, after unlocking -the door, he looked toward the east and said aloud: -"The sun will soon draw to his flush. But he -always makes it. God, what a night I've had. It is -the last one, for here at the threshold of a new day -I swear that I will never touch another card. And -Goyle—I'll have nothing more to do with him." He -went in, still repeating his vow, and as he passed -the door of the office, was surprised to see a light -within; and halting, he heard footsteps slowly -pacing up and down. He stepped in and stood face to -face with the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Judge, are you up so soon, or haven't you -gone to bed?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I haven't been to bed. And you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been sitting up with a sick friend. Don't -you think you'd better lie down now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I think nothing of the sort. It is better to -stand in hell, sir, than to wallow in it." Bodney -sat down and the old man stood facing him. "But -I can hardly realize that it was not a nightmare, -George. Go over it with me; tell me about it. How -did it happen?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, we simply came in here together and -found—him. That's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that's all, but it is enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was there very much money involved?" -Bodney asked, not knowing what else to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Money! I haven't once thought of the amount. -It is the fact that I have been shot with an arrow -taken from my own quiver, and poisoned. And yet, -when I look at him, as I did today at dinner, I can -hardly bring myself to believe my own eyes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You haven't—haven't said anything to him, -have you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the way of accusation? No. It would leap -from him to his mother. And I charge you to -breathe it to no one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not even my sister, who is to be his wife?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. I will take her case in hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But will you permit them to marry?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not in a house of God; not in the presence of a -guest. If she is determined to marry him against my -protest, it must be in secret, as his deed was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope, sir, that everything may—may come out -right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean by that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I hope that you may forgive him. I don't -think that he's dishonest at heart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you are a fool."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I admit that, Judge. I am a fool, an infamous fool."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you are not a scoundrel, not a thief."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I might be worse."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Enough of that. You are trying to debase -yourself to raise him. Don't do it. You can't afford -it. You have an honest living to make, and through -you I must now look to the future." He turned -away, and for a time walked up and down in silence; -then, coming back, resumed his place in front of -Bodney. "It all comes from my over-confidence in -modern civilization. I did not presume to instruct -or even advise him as to a course of reading, -permitting him to exercise his own fancy; and it led -him to that running sore on the face of the -earth—Paris. He read French books, the germs thrown -off by diseased minds. He lived in a literary pest -house, and how could he come out clean? He was -prepared for any enormity against nature, and why -then should he have drawn the line between me -and any of his desires?" He turned away, walking -up and down, sometimes rubbing his hands -together, as if washing them, then putting them -behind him; halting at the desk to gaze down at -something; going once to the safe and putting his hand -upon it, but snatching it away as if the iron were -hot. Bodney followed him about with his eyes, -seeing him through cards, hearts and spades. His -mind flew back to the game, and he could see the -players sitting just as he had left them, the offensive -fellow and the regular, behind a redoubt of chips. -Only ten dollars more would have saved him; he -had fancied so before, but now it was not fancy but -almost a perfect knowledge. Why had he not asked -the preacher for twenty instead of ten?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'But it is so strange," said the old man, sitting -down with one arm straight out upon the green -baize table; and the wretch with his mind on the -game thought that it would be but an ungainly -position for a player to take; he ought to sit facing -the table with his hands in front of him. "Stranger -than truth," said the Judge, and Bodney looked at -him with a start. For a moment the game -vanished and darkness fell upon the players, but soon -a blue curtain was pulled aside, a black face, grim, -without a smile, showed glistering behind the glass, -the door was opened, and there again were the -players in the light, the offensive fellow drawing -one card, the regular solemn and confident with -a hand that was pat. "Stranger than the strangest -truth that I have ever encountered," the Judge went -on, turning his back to the table and looking over -Bodney's head at something on the wall. "But I -brood too much."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One card," said Bodney, in a thick muse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man started. "Nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You said something about a card."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir; it was sent in to me tonight while I -was with my sick friend—man wanted to see him -on business and insisted upon coming in, and it was -all I could do to put him off."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brood too much," the Judge repeated, after a -brief interval of silence. "The mind mildews under -any one thing that lies upon it long. A continuous -joy might be as poisonous as a grief." He leaned -forward with his head in his hands, and talked in a -smothered voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The sun is coming up," said Bodney. "Don't -you think you'd better lie down?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You go to bed. Don't mind me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Believe I will. I am worn out, and I don't see -how you can stand it as well as you do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In worry there is a certain sort of strength. Go -to bed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney got up and went to the door, but turned -and looked at the old man, bowed over with his -fingers pressed to his eyes. The coming of the sun -had driven the game further off into the night, and -now the wretch's heart smote him hard. He could -lift that gray head; into those dull eyes he could -throw the light of astonishment, but they would -shoot anger at him and drive him out of the house. -If he could only win enough to replace the money -taken from the safe, to give himself the standing of -true repentance, he would confess his crime. Win -enough! He could not conceive of getting it in -any other way; all idea of business had been driven -from his mind. He had no mind, no reason; what -had been his mind was now a disease on fire, half -in smoke and half in flame, but he felt that if he could -get even, the fire would go out and the smoke clear -away. The old fellow who turned moralist could -have told him that he had for more than half a -life-time struggled to get even, that the poker fool is -never even but twice, once before he plays and once -after he is dead. And the scholar who had forgotten -his grammar in the constant strain of the present -tense would have assured him that the hope to get -even was a trap set by the devil to catch the -imaginative mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge groaned, and Bodney took a step -toward him, with his hands stretched forth as if he -would grasp him and shake him into a consciousness -of the truth, but the old man looked up and -the young man faltered. "I thought you were -going to bed, George."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, why do you stand there looking at me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I don't know," he stammered, in his embarrassment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you do know," said the Judge, giving him -a straight and steady look. "You know that you -are hanging about to plead the cause of your—your -friend; but it is of no use. Friend! I would to -God he had been my friend. Confess, now; isn't -that the reason you are standing there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You read my mind, Judge," said the wretch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do I? Then read mine and go to bed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Bodney turned toward the door, he met -William coming in. The old fellow carried his coat -thrown across one arm and was trying to button -his shirt collar. It was his custom to begin -dressing at his bedside, grabbing up the first garment -within reach, and to complete his work in the office, -the basement, or even the back yard. "Hold on -a minute," he said to Bodney. "Button this -infernal collar for me." Bodney halted to obey. -"Can't you take hold of it? Is it as slick as all -that? Do you think I wear an eel around my neck? -Confound it, don't choke the life out of me. Get -away. I can do it better myself. Didn't I tell you -to quit? Are you a bull-dog, that you have to hang -on that way?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney trod heavily to his room. The old fellow -threw his coat on the table and began to walk -about, tugging at his collar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think you can button it here better than -in your own room?" the Judge asked, straightening -up and looking at him. "Has this office been set -aside as a sort of dressing parade ground for you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William was muttering and fuming. "I was -Judge Lynch out West, once, and was about to set -a horse-thief free, but just then I incidentally heard -that he had sold collars and I ordered him hanged. -Did you speak to me, John?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I asked you a question."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I knew a Universalist preacher that changed his -religion on account of a collar—swore that its -inventor must necessarily go to the flames. What was -the question you asked me, John?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One that would have no more effect on you than -a drop of water on the back of a mole."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William buttoned his collar, tied his cravat, took -a seat opposite his brother and looked hard at him. -"John, I see that your temper hasn't improved. -And you have got up early to turn it loose on me. -Now, what have I done? Hah, what have I done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have never heard of your doing anything, William."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's intended as an insult. Oh, I understand -you. You never heard of my doing anything. You -haven't? You never heard of my electing two -governors out West. You bat your eyes at the fact -that I sent a man to the United States Senate. Why, -at one time I owned the whole state of Montana, -and a man who had never done anything -couldn't—couldn't make that sort of showing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did you do with the state?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did I do with it? A nice question to ask a -man. What did Adam do with the Garden of Eden?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were not driven out of Montana, were you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Driven out? Who said I was driven out?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But Adam was driven out of the garden."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, of course. I merely spoke of the -Garden of Eden for the reason that Adam's claim -on it was only sentimental, if I may call it such. I -mean that I owned the good opinion of every man -in the state. I could have had anything within the -gift of the commonwealth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, why didn't you go to the Senate, or elect -yourself governor? Why were you so thoughtless -a prodigal of your influence?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a nice question to ask a man. Why didn't -you buy an acre in this town that would have made -you worth millions? Why didn't I go to the -Senate? I had something else on my mind. Every -man is not ambitious to hold office. There's -something higher than politics. I was educated for a -different sphere of action. I was, as you know, -educated for a preacher, but my faith slipped from -under me. But it is of no use to talk to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not much, William, I admit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But can't you tell me why this peculiar change -has come over you? It worries me, and you know why."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge made a gesture. "Don't—it's not that. -My mind is perfectly sound."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, what's the trouble?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Am I ever to know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't see why you should give me the keen -edge of your temper and not tell me the cause that -led you to whet it against me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not whetted it against you—it has been -whetted on my heart. Go away, William, and leave -me to myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would if you were yourself, but you are not. -There is something the matter with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I grant that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And in it there is cause for alarm, both for you -and for myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, please don't allude to that again. My -mind is perfectly sound, I tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And so one dear to us often declared."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge got up. "I shall have to command -you to leave this room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, of course, I'll go. Here comes your wife. -Rachel, there is something radically wrong with -John, and I advise you to send for the best -physician in this town."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="heard-a-gong-in-the-alley"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">HEARD A GONG IN THE ALLEY.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>More than once during the night had Mrs. Elbridge -looked in upon her husband, to urge upon -him the necessity for rest. But he had told her -that he had on hand the most important case that -ever came to him, declared that the life of a man -depended upon his meditation; a new point in law -was involved, and it would be a crime to sleep until -his work was done. The governor of the state -had submitted the question to him. And thus had -she been put off, having no cause to doubt him; -but now she caught William's alarm. "My dear," -said the Judge, when she approached him, "it seems -that both you and my brother are struggling hard -to misunderstand me. You know that I have never -deceived you—you know that I would tell you if -there were anything wrong. It is true that the -death of my brother Henry has shocked me greatly—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why don't you tell William? He ought to -know. And it is our duty to tell him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man, looking toward the door, held up -his hand. "No, he must not be told—nor must -anyone else. I have an object."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, my dear, I don't see—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know you don't. And I cannot tell you—I -can—can merely hint. It is a question of life -insurance, and the company must not hear of his death -till certain points are settled. William, as you -know, while one of the best men in the world, has a -slippery tongue. And, besides, he is in no condition -now to hear bad news. It is a secret, but he is -having trouble with his heart—under treatment. -Let us wait till he is stronger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, dear, is that a cause why you should frown -so at Howard, and treat him with such contempt?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He walked away from her, but she followed him -and put her hand on his arm. They halted near -the safe and stood in silence, he looking at the -iron chest, she looking at him. The sound of a -peddler's gong came from the alley, and he sprang -back from the safe and dropped heavily down upon -a chair. Florence was heard talking to someone, -and Mrs. Elbridge called her, and at this the old -man brightened. Florence was his recourse, his -safeguard, and when she came in he greeted her -with something of his former heartiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Florence, they are worried about me. Tell them -that they have no cause."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young woman's face was bright with a smile, -but it was a light without warmth, a kindly light -intended to deceive, not the Judge, but his wife. -Mrs. Elbridge looked at her husband and was -astonished at the change in him. She could not -understand it, but she was not halting to investigate -causes. "You are our physician, Florence," she -said. "But you must bring your patient under better -discipline. He didn't go to bed at all last night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I shall have to reprimand him. Sir, why -do you disobey my orders?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man's attempt at a smile was but a poor -pretense, but it deceived the eye of affection. -"Because, Doctor, I had a most important case on -hand; but it is about worked out now, and I will -in the future have more regard for your instructions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They talked pleasantly for a time, and then -Mrs. Elbridge went out, leaving the Judge and Florence -in the office; but no sooner was the wife gone than -the husband began to droop; and the light of the -forced smile faded from the countenance of the -young woman. She looked at the Judge and her -face was stern. "We are hypocrites for her," she -said, nodding toward the door through which -Mrs. Elbridge had just passed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, to protect the tenderest nature I have ever -known. She could not stand such a trouble. It -would kill her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She would not believe your story."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, she would. Unlike you, she could not be -infatuated with the blindness of her own faith. She -loves her son, but she knows me—loves me. She -could not doubt my eyes. What," he said, getting -up with energy and standing in front of Florence, -"you are not debating with yourself whether or -not to tell her, are you? Can you, for one -moment, forget your oath—an oath as solemn and as -binding as any oath ever taken? You, surely, are -not forgetting it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, but I ought to. My heart cries for permission -to tell Howard. His distress reproaches me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But your oath."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I shall not forget it, sir," she said, almost -savagely. "But, it was not generous of you—not -generous."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What wasn't?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Swearing me to secrecy. You took advantage -of what you conceive to be my honor, my strength -of character; and you would have me break his -heart by refusing to marry him. You have a -far-reaching cruelty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Florence—my daughter, you must not say that. -You know why I would keep you from marrying -him. Have I been a judge all these years, to find -that I am now incapable of pronouncing against -my own affections and my own flesh and blood? I -am broader than that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean that you are narrower than that. It -is noble to shield those whom we love."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, it is selfish. You are a woman, and -therefore cannot see justice as a man sees it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My eyes may not be clear enough to see justice, -but they have never beheld a vision to—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, Florence—now, please don't. You know -how I held him in my heart; you know that no -vision could have driven him out. But it is useless -to argue. I have knowledge and you have faith. -Knowledge is brightest when the eye is opened -wide; faith is strongest when the eye is closed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And thus she replied: "Ignorant faith may save -a soul; knowledge alone might damn it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good and very orthodox, my child; a saying, -though, may be orthodox, and yet but graze the -outer edge of truth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if there be so little truth in things orthodox, -why should there be such obligation in an oath?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, you still have that in your mind. Look at -me. I hold you to that oath. Will you keep it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but if I did not believe that within a short -time something might occur to clear this mystery, -I would break it in a minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And let your soul be damned?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, you are orthodox. Yes, I would break it. -But I will wait, in the belief that something must -occur."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no way too tortuous for a faith to -travel," the old man murmured, but then he -bethought himself that to encourage waiting was a -furtherance of this humane plan of protection, and -then he added: "Yes, wait; we never know, of -course. Something might occur. But make me a -promise, now in addition to your oath—that if, -finally, when nothing does occur and you are -resolved to break it, that you will first come to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will make that promise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Agnes tripped in with a tune on her lips. The -Judge wondered why George Bodney had not fallen -in love with her. She was bright enough and pretty -enough to ensnare the heart of any man. But Bodney -was peculiar, and susceptibility to the blandishments -of a bewildering eye was not one of his traits; -his nature held itself in reserve for a debasing -weakness. Agnes asked Florence why everyone seemed -to drift unconsciously into that mouldy old office. -Florence did not know, but the Judge said that it -was attractive to women because it was their nature -to find interest in the machinery of man's affairs. -Business was the means with which man had -established himself as woman's superior, and there -was always a mystery in the appliances of his work-shop.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What nonsense, Mr. Judge," said Agnes. "It is -because there is so much freedom in here. You -can't soil anything in here—never can in a place -where men stay." Howard passed the door, and -the Judge's face darkened. Florence looked at him -and her eyes were not soft.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, what are you frowning at, Mr. Judge?" -said Agnes. "Do you mean that I haven't told the -truth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You always tell the truth, Agnes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't. I told Mr. Bradley a fib—a small -one, though; a little white mouse of a fib. But you -have to tell fibs to a preacher."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the way of life. Fibs to a preacher and lies -to a judge," said the old man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lies </span><em class="italics">for</em><span> a judge," Florence spoke up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter with everybody!" Agnes -cried, looking from one to another. "You people -talk in riddles to me. I'm not used to it. And, -Florence, you are getting to be so sober I don't -know what to do with you. You and the Judge are -just alike. What's the matter with everybody? -Mr. Howard mumbles about the house and Mr. Bodney -acts like a man with—with the jerks, whatever -that is, for I don't know. There, I'm glad -breakfast is ready. Come on, Mr. Judge."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="william-agreed-with-the-judge"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WILLIAM AGREED WITH THE JUDGE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Judge took his accustomed seat at the head -of the breakfast table, Howard on his right and -Bodney's vacant chair at his left; but there was no -disposition on the part of the worry-haunted father -to enter into conversation with the son. Howard -was talkative; his mind might have been termed -dyspeptic instead of digestive. The books, stories, -sketches, scraps that he read, ill-stored, appeared -as a patchwork in his talk. He spoke of a French -author, and Florence saw the Judge wince. She -was sitting beside Howard, and she pulled at his -coat sleeve as a warning to drop the disagreeable -name. He understood and changed the subject, -but the fire had been kindled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is no wonder that the French could not whip -the Germans," said the Judge, not addressing -himself to Howard, but to the table. "It was the -literature of France that weakened her armies. Morality -was destroyed, and without morality there can be -no enduring courage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think Victor Hugo is just lovely," said Agnes. -The Judge nodded assent. "A great genius—and, -by the way, he said that there were but three -men worthy to be estimated as memorable in all the -history of this life—Moses, Shakespeare and Homer. -He belonged to older and better France, at the -dying end of her greatness. And you will observe that -he did not include a Frenchman in his list."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I warrant you," said Howard, "that in his -secret mind he put himself at the head of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge looked at him. "Warrants issued by -you, sir, are not always returnable accompanied by the facts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I wouldn't issue a warrant for the arrest of -a fact. Truth ought to be at large."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Florence glanced at the Judge and saw him slowly -close his eyes and slowly open them. "You think -Hugo lovely," said the old man, speaking to Agnes. -"But what do you think of Zola?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know anything about him. But some -of the girls said he was horrid," she answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a good thing for you that you don't know -anything about him, and it reflects credit upon the -judgment of the girls who pronounced him horrid," -said the Judge. "His influence upon his own -country, and upon this country, too, has been most -pernicious."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William was usually most prompt at meal time, -but now he was for some unaccountable reason -delayed; but he came in just as the Judge closed his -remark concerning Zola, sat down and began to -tuck a napkin under his chin. The Judge had more -than once hinted his displeasure at this vulgarity, -but his brother continued to practice it, not without -heeding the hint, but with a defense of his custom. -He had elected governors, and was not to be ruled -into discomfort by a woman who had written a -book on etiquette. He knew politeness as well as -the next man or next woman, for that matter. -Many a time had he seen Senator Bascomb, who -owed his election to him, sit down to table in his -shirt sleeves, with a napkin tucked into his bosom, -and Washington City was compelled to acknowledge -him a man of brains. The Judge stared at -William, and was doubtless about to repeat his hint, -when Florence said something to attract his eye, -and shook her head at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have we under discussion this morning?" -said William, squaring in readiness to defend -himself, for he ever expected an attack.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"French literature," Howard answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"French fiddlesticks," William replied. "There -is no French literature. They have slop that they -call literature."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank you, William," said the Judge, forgetting -the napkin. This was received by the former -owner of Montana as proof that the Judge's -ill-nature had been cured; and, bowing, he pulled the -napkin from about his jowl and spread it upon his -knees. And then arose a spirited discussion -between the political Warwick and Howard, the -former snatching a cue from his brother, affirming -that the influence of France had always been bad, -the latter maintaining that France had civilized and -cultivated the modern world. Florence pulled at -Howard's coat sleeve; and the Judge, observing -her, and irritated that she was moved to employ -restraint, threw off all attempt at an exercise of his -patience. "Let him proceed!" he roared, and -everyone looked at him in surprise. "Let him -proceed to the end of his disgraceful advocacy of -corruption. But I will not stay to hear it." And, -getting up, he bowed himself out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard," said Mrs. Elbridge, "you ought not -to talk about things that irritate your father. He -is not well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are wrong, Howard, to oppose him," Florence -spoke up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose I am," the young man admitted, "but -he has always taught me to form an opinion of my -own and to hold it when once well formed, and until -recently he seemed pleased at what he termed my -individuality and independence. But now I can't -do or say a thing to please him. I'm no child, and -not a fool, I hope; then, why should I be treated -as if I had no sense at all? What have I done that -he should turn against me? He treats everyone -else with consideration and respect. He even has -toleration of Uncle William's dates," he added, -mischievously thrusting at the old fellow for the recent -stand he had taken, knowing that, with him, it -was the policy of the moment rather than the -conviction of the hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What!" exclaimed William, with a bat of eye -and a swell of jaw. "Turned loose on me, have -you? Well, I want to tell you, sir, that I won't -stand it. I am aware that my forbearance -heretofore may have misled you with regard to the -extent of my endurance, but I want to say that you -have made a mistake. I am treated with consideration -and respect everywhere except in this household, -and I won't stand it, that's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," Howard replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank me! Thank me for what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You said, 'that's all,' and I thank you for it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge interposed with a mild and smiling -admonition. She shook her finger at Howard. -"Let him go ahead, Rachel," the old fellow spoke -up. "Let him go ahead as far as his strength will -permit him. He's—he's set himself against us, and -as he runs riot in the privilege of the spoiled heir, -why, I guess we'll have to stand it—as long as we -can. Of course, there'll come a time when all -bodily and moral strength will fail us, but until then -let him go ahead. Yes, has set himself against us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Us, did you say, Uncle Billy? You are -evidently one of the us. Who's the other?" Howard -asked, immensely tickled, for the warmth of the -family joke was most genial to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want any of your Uncle Billying. I -always know what to expect when you begin that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I began it the other night and ended by giving -you a meerschaum pipe, didn't I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, meerschaum. Chalk—if there ever was a -piece used by a tailor to mark out the angles of a -raw-boned man—that pipe's chalk. You could -no more color it than you could a door-knob."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A friend of mine brought it from Germany, Uncle Billy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he? He brought it from a German beer -garden, where they peddle them in baskets and sell -them by the paper bag full, like popcorn. I had -my suspicions at the time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you were willing to run the risk of -acceptance because your pipe was so strong."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old fellow put down his knife and fork and, -straightening up, looked at Howard as if he would -bore him through. "I deny your slander, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So do I," said Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Deny the slander—unless there is slander in -truth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard, you remind me of a cart-horse, treading -on his trace chains. You remind me—I don't -know what you remind me of."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of a cart-horse, you said."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Mrs. Elbridge admonished him not to irritate -the old fellow, but did it so laughingly that he -accepted it more as a spur than as a restraint; and -Florence pulled at his sleeve, but more in -connivance than in reproof. Agnes laughed outright. -She declared that it was better than a circus. The -old man turned his eyes upon her, giving her a long -and steady gaze, and she whispered to Florence that -even the pin-feathers of his dignity had begun to -rise. "Better than a circus," he replied. "I don't -see any similarity except that we have a clown." He -winked at Mrs. Elbridge, as if he expected her -to rejoice in what he believed to be a victory over -the young man. Marriage may cripple a man's -opportunities—in some respects it may restrict his -range of vision, but it renders his near view much -more nearly exact. Having never known the -repressions of the married state—ignorant of the -intellectual clearing-house of matrimony—William was -blind to many things, and particularly to the fact -that the mother hated him at that moment, though -she smiled when he winked at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not much like modern circuses," Howard admitted. -"They have a whole group of clowns, while -we have but two, at most."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard," said the old fellow, "do you mean to -call me a clown?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a good one, Uncle William."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a good one. Well, sir, I want to say that -I'd make a deuced sight better one than you." When -emphasis was put upon the word, it meant, -with Uncle William, not the opprobrious, but the -commendable. During his boyhood, to be a clown -was to be greater than a judge, greater, if possible, -than the driver of a stage-coach. In the old day, -it was a compliment to tell a boy that he would -make a good clown.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't doubt you'd make a good clown, Uncle -Billy. Aspiration is, within itself, a sort of fitness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean by that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a certain genius in mere ambition," -Howard went on. "If we yearn—and yearn, only, -we come nearer to an achievement than those who -don't yearn. Who knows that genius is not -desire—just desire, and nothing more. I know a man over -at St. Jo that can eat more cherries than any man in -Michigan, not because he is larger than any of the -rest, but because he has a broader appetite for -cherries—more yearning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William turned to Mrs. Elbridge. "Rachel, do -you think he's lost what little sense he ever had."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"William," she said, "you must not talk to me -that way. I won't put up with it, sir. I am sure he -has as good sense as any—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, if you are going to turn against me I guess -I'd better go," he broke in, getting up. "I'll go to -my brother. He at least can understand me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge was in the office. William entered, -and, going up to the desk, began to rummage -among some papers. "Trying to swim?" the Judge -asked, looking up from a document spread out -before him on the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I'm looking for a cigar."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought you were trying to swim."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William stepped back from the desk. "John, I -didn't expect such treatment after our hearty agreement -at the breakfast table. But it's what I get for -taking sides. The neutral is the only man that gets -through this life in good shape."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And is that the reason, William, that you didn't -preach—didn't want to take sides against the devil?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I'm not wanted here, I can go to my own room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish you would. I am expecting an old client."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I can go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John, your irritability has irritated everybody on -the place. You have poisoned our atmosphere. I -will leave you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said the Judge, examining the -document before him. After a time, and still -without looking up, he added: "Still here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have just come in, sir," said Howard. The -Judge looked up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought it was William."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has just gone out. And I have come to beg -your pardon for what I said at breakfast. I didn't -mean to worry you; I—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is unnecessary to beg my pardon, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope not." He moved closer, with one hand -resting upon the table. "Father, something is -wrong, and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Most decidedly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But won't you please tell me what it is? If -the fault is in me and I can reach it I will pull it -out. I could bear many crosses, but your ill-opinion -is too heavy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man looked up at him. "To your lack of -virtue you have added silly reading."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I am playing in a farce worse than any I -have ever read. Be frank with me. You have -taught me frankness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And tried to teach you honesty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, both by precept and example. But what is -to come of it all when you treat me this way? Why -don't you go to some springs?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why don't you leave me to myself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am almost afraid. You rake up enmities -against me when you are alone, it seems; and you -pour them out upon me when we meet. Why is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge waved him off. "Go away," he said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-old-office"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE OLD OFFICE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The office in La Salle Street was in an old-fashioned -building, with heavily ornamented front. The -room was large, high of ceiling, with a grate and a -marble mantlepiece. It was on the first floor, after -the short flight of iron steps leading from the -pavement. Once it had been active with business, but -now few clients found their way into its dingy -precincts. Occasionally some old-timer would come -in, but upon seeing Howard or Bodney, faces -offensively young to him, would go out again, sighing -over the degeneracy of the day. The young men -had often advised a change of quarters, apartments -in a steel building, but the Judge would not -consent. The old room was sentiment's heritage. -Many a famous man had trod the rough carpet on -the floor; many a time had the dry eye of the tired -lawyer watered at the wit of Emery Storrs; and -Ingersoll, warm with fellowship and wine, walking up -and down, had poured out the overflow of his magic -brain. How intellectual were its surroundings then, -and now how different! The great advocate was -gone, and in his stead sat the real-estate lawyer, -emotionless, keen-eyed, searching out the pedigree -of a title to a few feet of soil—narrow, direct, -dyspeptic, money-dwarfed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After leaving home, Howard went straightway -to the down-town office, and there, amid the dust -raised by the negro who was sweeping, he found -Goyle, waiting for Bodney. "I have taken -possession," said Goyle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right. And you are taking more dust than -is good for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mind that. Where is Bodney?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He hadn't got up when I left home. He was -up all night with a sick friend, I believe, and is not -likely to be down before the afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle looked at his watch. "I will come in again -about three o'clock. How is business with you?" He -did not get up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The business of waiting is good. It is about all -a young lawyer need expect." Howard sat down, -telling the negro to leave off sweeping; and Goyle, -leaning back, put his feet upon the window ledge. -He was never in haste to leave. It was one of his -sayings that he was looking for a soft seat, and he -appeared now to have found one. He gazed out -into the rumbling thoroughfare, at men of all ages -passing one another, pushing, jamming, limping, -some on crutches, some tottering, some strong of -limb, all with eager faces. "Rushing after the -dollar," said Goyle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or fleeing from necessity," replied Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, and hard pressed by the enemy. But they -have made their enemy powerful—have built up -their necessities. Once a shadow lay upon the -ground, a harmless thing; but they breathed hot -breath upon it and it became a thing of life, jumped -up and took after them. I hate the whole -scheme." He waved his hand, and Howard sat looking at -him—at the hair curling about his forehead, at his -Greek nose; and he wondered why one so seemingly -fitted for the chase should express such -contempt for it. He spoke of it, and Goyle turned -toward him with a cold smile. "You have heard," -said he, "of the fellow who would rather be a cat -in hell without claws. Well, that's what I am, and -where I am when thrown out there." He nodded -toward the street, and then lazily taking out a -cigarette, lighted it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't believe that," said Howard. "I believe -that you are well fitted, except, possibly, by -disposition. You lack patience."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Patience! It doesn't admit of patience. Do -those fellows out there look patient?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A man may run and be patient."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And he may also run and be a fool."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or be a bigger fool and not run. I am a -believer in the world—in man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not," said Goyle. "I know that the world -is a trap and that man is caught. Puppies play, but -the old dog lies down. He knows that life is a -farce."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The old dog lies down, it is true," Howard replied, -"but he dreams of his youth and barks in his -dream."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And calls himself a fool when he awakes. It is -the same with the old man. There comes a time -when he loses confidence even in those who are -nearest him." Out of the sharp corner of his eye -he shot a glance at Howard and saw his countenance -change. An old man, shriveled and wretched, -with feather dusters for sale, came shambling into -the room. Goyle glanced at him, and when he was -gone, turned to Howard and said: "Ask his opinion -of the world. He is your old dog who dreamed -and barked in his dream."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Goyle, I don't like the position you take. My -experience and my reading teach me better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle glanced at him again. "Your reading, -because what you read was written to flatter hope—to -sell. Your experience is not ripe. It is not even -green fruit. It is a bud. Oh, of course there are -some old men, your father, for instance, who—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what about him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, only he is by nature fitted to smile at -everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard got up, went over to a bookcase, took -down a book, put it back, went to the open door, -and stood there looking at a doctor's sign, just -across the hall. Goyle got up with a yawn, came -walking slowly toward the door, and Howard, -hearing him, but without looking round, stepped aside -to let him pass out. In the hall he halted to repeat -that he would return during the afternoon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have the privilege to come and go as often -as you like, being George's friend," said Howard, -"but, so far as you and I are concerned, I don't -think we are suited to each other."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle laughed and stepped back a pace or two. -"Why, on account of my nonsense just now? That -was all guff; I didn't mean it. It is the easiest thing -in the world for a man to condemn the whole of -creation, and I talk that way when my mind is too -dull to act. Why, I am going out now to knock an -eye tooth out of the wolf."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you didn't mean what you said about old men?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a word of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did you happen to speak of my father?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Merely to refute what I had said about old men -in general. Well, so long."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard went into the doctor's office, as musty a -den as ever a fox inhabited. The physician was an -old man, who had no future and who prescribed in -the past. During the best years of his life he had -dozed or talked under the influence of opium, so -given to harmless fabrication when awake that it -followed him into his slumber, snoring a lie; now -cured of the habit but not of the evil it had wrought. -When Howard entered the old man was reading a -medical journal of 1849, and he glanced up disappointed -to see the visitor looking so well. He had -met Howard many a time, but his memory was short.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, come in, sir. Have a seat. You are—let -me see.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My office is just across the hall."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, I remember. You are in the—the -brokerage business. And your name is—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am trying to be a lawyer. Elbridge is my name."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course it is. I used to know your father—was -called in consultation just before he died."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then it must have been since I left the house -this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, let me see. Elbridge—the Judge. I'm -wrong, of course. It was Elsworth. How is your -father?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what I wanted to talk about, and I am -sorry that you do not recall him more vividly. I -wanted to ask your opinion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, now I know him as well as I know myself. -What is it you wish to consult me about? His -health?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I hardly know how to get at it. You know -he has been a very busy man—working day and -night for years; and I wanted to ask if a sudden -breaking off isn't dangerous—that is, not exactly -dangerous, but likely to induce a change in -disposition?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor looked wise, with his hand flat upon -the medical journal, and as it had been printed in -the drowsy afternoon of a slow day, seemed to -inspire caution against a quick opinion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hold, and have held for years," said he, "that a -complete revolution in a man's affairs, sudden riches -or sudden poverty—the er—the withdrawing of vital -forces necessary to a continuous strain, is a shock -to the system, and therefore deleterious. It is -unquestionably a fact, not only known to the medical -fraternity, but to ordinary observation, that -incentive in the aged is a sort of continuance of youth, in -other words, to make myself perfectly clear, the -impetus of youth when unchecked, goes far into old -age—when the pursuit has not been changed; and -therefore a sudden halting is bad for the system. Is -your father's health impaired?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't say that it is. He appears to be strong, -but his temper is not of the best—toward me. -Toward the others he is just the same."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, not unusual in such cases. It so happened -that a sudden change must have taken place in him, -and as you were doubtless the first one to come in -contact with him after the change, his—his displeasure, -if I may be permitted the term, fell upon you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I was not the first one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Um, a complication. I shall have to study that -up a little. Perhaps I'd better see him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, don't do that. It really amounts to -nothing. I consulted you because you were well -acquainted with him. And I am now inclined to -think that I have made more of it than it really is. -How are you getting along?" Howard asked, to -change the subject.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never better, sir, I am pleased to say. Of course -medicine has degenerated, splitting up into all sorts -of specialties, but there are a few people who don't -want to be humbugged. Well, I am glad you -called," he added as Howard turned to go. "Give -my regards to your father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard returned to the office, took up a book -which held in closer affinity the laws of verse than -the laws of the land, and lying down upon a leather -lounge, was borne away by the gentle tide of a -rhythmic sea.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="walked-and-repented"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WALKED AND REPENTED.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A man can be more repentant when he walks than -when he rides. The world's most meditative -highway is that road which we are told is paved with -good intentions; and strolling along it, our -determination to reform becomes stronger at each step -until—until something occurs to change it all. -Bodney walked down town. And for the first time -in his life he fancied that he found the very bottom -of his mind, and thereon lay a resolution, an oath -self-made, self-sworn to tell Howard the truth and -to take the consequences no matter what they might -be. He had intended, upon getting out of bed to -make his confession to the old gentleman, and he -would have done so, he fully believed, had not the -Judge been engaged with a client. But perhaps -after all it would better serve the purposes of justice -to confess to Howard. He was the one most -deeply injured. Yes, he would go at once to Howard -and tell him the truth. It would of course involve -Goyle, but he ought to be involved; he was a -scoundrel. Perhaps they might both be sent to the -penitentiary. No matter, the confession must be made. -He passed the building wherein the night before he -had agonized under the frown of hard luck; he -halted and looked into the entry-way, at the stairs -worn and splintered by the heavy feet of the -unfortunate. Some strange influence had fallen upon him, -some strength not gathered by his own vital forces -had come to him, and now he knew that no longer -could he be a slave held by chains forged in that -house of bondage. As he turned away he met a -man who had been in the game the night before. -His face was bright and he did not look like a slave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you come out?" Bodney asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was ninety in when you left, and I pull out -sixty winner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did? You were losing when I left."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but they can't beat a man all the time. I -tell you it would put me in the hole if I didn't win. -I owe at three or four places, and I go around today -and pay up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, with a feeling like a sudden sickness at the -stomach, came the recollection of the druggist and -the preacher, obligations not to be discharged that -day. Long after the moral nature has been -weakened, the poker player may continue to respect his -own word, or rather he may not respect it himself -but may desire others to do so. Unless his income -is large he must operate mainly upon borrowed -capital, and breaking his word cripples his resources. -And then, after having lost, there is a self-shame in -having borrowed, a confession of weakness. He -condemns himself for not having had strength -enough to quit when he found that there was no -chance to get even. "There never is a chance to get -even," Bodney mused as he walked on toward the -office. "The old fellow who has worn himself out -at the cursed game says so and I believe it. I will -tell Howard—nothing shall shake my resolution. -I will simply cut my throat before I'll sink myself -further in this iniquity. By nature I am not -dishonest. If I hadn't met that fellow Goyle I might—but -I'll not think of him. Now that fellow didn't play -any better cards than I did, was nearly a hundred -in and pulled out sixty ahead. And he has paid his -debts while I must dodge. I wonder how much I -have lost within the past two months. On an average -of fifty dollars a sitting. That won't do. I had -money enough to—but I won't think about it—won't -do any good, and besides it is over with now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found Howard in the office writing. "A -brief?" said Bodney, sitting down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In one sense—short meter," Howard replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, poetry?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rhyme. I come by it naturally, you know. -Have you heard from your friend today, the one -you sat up with?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, he's better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Goyle was here—said he'd be back this afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't leave any money—didn't say what he -wanted, did he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. I think he wants to talk more than anything -else. He is a smart fellow, George, but I am -beginning to find fault with him. I don't like his -principles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps he has none," Bodney replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, have you begun to—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, I merely said that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the way he talks—makes a statement and -then declares he didn't mean it. By the way, I'm -going to get out of this office. There's no use -staying here. If father wants to keep it, let him; but -you and I ought to be in a more modern building. -We have played at the law long enough. What do -you say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know but you are right. I would like to -do something. Has anyone else called?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Bradley was here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bradley! What did he want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He didn't say what he wanted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did he say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He inquired about your friend—the divinity -student."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney was silent, and to him it seemed that -he was groping about in his own mind, searching -for his resolution, but he could not find it. The -preacher might have asked about the divinity -student, the wretch mused, but of course he wanted -ten dollars; and what if it should be known at the -house that he had borrowed the money?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard, can you let me have twenty-five dollars?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, haven't you—you any money?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"None that I can get hold of. I haven't said -anything about it, but the fact is, I have invested -in suburban lots, and can make a good profit any -time I care to sell out, but I don't want to sell just -now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, business man, eh?" said Howard, crumpling -the paper which he had covered with rhymes and -throwing it into the waste basket. "Well, I am -going to do something of that sort myself. I am -glad you told me. Yes, I'll let you have -twenty-five. I have just about that amount with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney took the money and seized his hat. "If -Goyle comes in, tell him I don't know when I'll -be back. By the way, do you suppose Bradley -went home?"</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-96"> -<span id="bodney-took-the-money"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Bodney took the money." src="images/img-138.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Bodney took the money.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I think so—in fact, he remarked that he -was going home to do some work. Why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, only he seemed interested in the -young fellow I sat up with—wanted to go with me -to see him, in fact."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a determination to pay the druggist and to -go at once to Bradley's house, Bodney left the -office, still wondering, though, what had become of -his resolve to make a confession to Howard. But -he would fortify himself against trivial annoyances -and then, morally stronger, he could confess. As -he was crossing the street he thought of the fellow -who had won sixty dollars. "No better player than -I am," he mused. "He hung on, that's all. Now, -when I pay the preacher and the druggist I'll have -five dollars left. And with that five dollars I might -win out. If I had held to my resolution not to -stay in on so many four flushes I might have won -out anyway. But the other fellows filled flushes and -straights against me. Why couldn't I against -them? Simply because it wasn't my day. But this -may be my day. My day must come some time. -As that fellow said, 'they can't beat a man all the -time.' Why not go to the club first? Then, if I -win, I can easily meet my obligations."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went to the club. The game was full, but a -"house" player got up and gave him a seat. He -bought ten dollars' worth of chips, and the first -hand he picked up was three queens. The pot was -opened ahead of him and another man came in. -Bodney raised; they stood it, and drew one card -each. To disguise his hand, Bodney drew one, -holding up a six. He caught a six. The opener -bet a white chip. The next man raised him three -dollars. Bodney raised all he had. The opener -laid down; the other man studied. "Is it that bad?" -he asked, peeping at the tips of his cards. Bodney -said nothing; his blood was tingling, but in his -eyes there was a far-away look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's up to you, Griff," said an impatient fellow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, so I see; but I'm playing this hand. -Raised it and drew one card, then raised a -one-card draw. Well, I've got to call you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Queen full."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beats a flush. Take the hay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now Bodney's troubles all were luminous. -The wine of the game flowed through his veins and -made his heart drunk with delight. He held a pat -flush, won a big pot and felt a delicious coolness -in his mind, the chamber wherein he had groped -through darkness, searching for the lost resolution. -But now it was light, and was crowded with -charming fancies. He bubbled wit and simmered humor, -and the look-out man said, "you bet, he's a good -one." His stack was building so high that he could -hardly keep from knocking it over—did overturn it -with a crash, and a loud voice called to the porter: -"Chip on the floor." The man attendant upon the -desk came over, put his hand on Bodney's shoulder -and said: "Give it to 'em; eat 'em up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the game there was a mind-reader, and they -called him Professor. In his "studio" he told -marvelous things, brought up the past and read -the future. Hundreds of persons consulted him, -race-track men looking for tips, board of trade -men wanting to know the coming trend of the -market; and in the twilight came the blushing -maiden to ask if her lover were true. In deepest -secret you might write a dozen questions, put them -in your pocket and button your coat, but the -Professor could read them. He was unquestionably a -mind-reader—till he sat down to play poker—and -then his marvelous powers failed him. The most -unintuitive man at the table could beat him. -Bodney slaughtered him. "Can you make those things -every time?" said the Professor, calling a -three-dollar bet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not every time," Bodney replied, spreading a -straight, "but I made it this time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can make them every time against me. -You are the luckiest man I ever saw. Do you -always win?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have lost more within the last two months -than any man that comes up the stairs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's right," said the look-out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One wretched fellow, who had been struggling -hard, got up broke. He strove to appear unconcerned, -but despair was written on his face. As he -walked across the room toward the door the man at -the desk called to him. He turned with the light of -a vague hope in his eye. In consideration of his -hard luck was the house about to stake him? -"Have a cigar before you go," said the man at the -desk. The light went out of the wretch's eye. He -took the cigar and drooped away, to beg for an -extension from his landlord, to plead with the -grocer, to lie to his wife.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At six o'clock Bodney cashed in one hundred -and four dollars. He would eat dinner with them, -but he would not play afterward. He had tried -that before. His eye-tooth had not only been cut; -it had been sharpened to the point of keenest -wisdom. While he was at the dinner table Goyle came -in and took a seat behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Understand you sewed up the game," said the master.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've got just about enough to pay up what I -owe," replied the slave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come off. Let me have twenty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't do it—swear I can't. I owe all round -town. I let you have ten yesterday, you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right. You'll get it again—you know -that. Let me have twenty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't possibly do it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he did. Goyle got up and walked out into -the hall with him, put his hand on his arm and -stood a long time, talking, gazing into his eyes. So -Bodney gave him the money and hastened away, -his spirits somewhat dampened. But his heart was -still light enough to keep him pleased with himself. -Luck had surely turned. He would win enough -to replace the money taken from the safe, and -then he would make a confession. But, that -fellow Goyle! What was the secret of his infatuating -influence? How did he inspire common words -with such power, invest mere slang with such -command? But his influence could not last; indeed, it -was weakening. And when thus he mused his -heart grew lighter. "He couldn't make me aid and -abet a robbery now," he said. "I would turn on -him and rend him. Let him take the money. The -debt is now large enough to make him shun me." With -a smile and a merry salutation he stepped -into the drug store, and handed the druggist ten -dollars, apologizing for not having called during -the day, but he had been busy and did not -suppose that it would make any particular difference. -The druggist assured him that it did not. Good -fortune in its many phases may be taken as a -matter of course, but the return of borrowed money -is nearly always a surprise. The druggist gave him -a cigar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Bodney. "By the way, have -you an envelope and stamp?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found an envelope, but no stamp. A young -woman who had held his telephone for ten -minutes had bought the last one. It was of no -consequence; Bodney could get one at the next corner. -Tearing a scrap of paper out of his notebook and -putting it upon a show case, he scribbled a few lines -upon it, folded a ten dollar note in the paper, -enclosed it in the envelope and directed it to Bradley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess that ought to be safe enough," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," replied the druggist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'll risk it. Again let me thank you for -your kindness. It isn't often that I am forced to -borrow, and wouldn't have done so last night but -for—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that's all right. Come in again," he added, -as Bodney stepped out. At the next corner he -stamped his letter and went out to drop it into a -box, but before reaching it was accosted by -someone, the Professor whom he had slaughtered in the -game.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you come out?" Bodney asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You broke me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't you sit in after dinner?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For about three minutes—first hand finished me. -I see you have a letter there with ten dollars in it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What! How do you know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And a note written with a pencil."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, that's marvelous. How do you do it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Professor smiled. "It is the line of my -business. Why don't you come up to my place some -time? I can tell you many things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It flashed through Bodney's mind that he might -tell him many things, and he shrank back from him. -"I will, one of these days," he said, and strode off -without dropping his letter into the box. He put -it into his pocket, intending to stop at the next -corner, but forgot it. "Now, what?" he mused. -"Believe I'll go home." He got on a car, but -stepped off before it started. He went to a hotel, -into the reading room, and took up a newspaper, -but found nothing interesting in it. His thoughts -were upon the game. In his mind was the red glare -of a pat diamond flush. He could see it as vividly -as if it had been held before his eye. Was it -prophetic? He strolled out, not in the direction of the -Wexton Club; but he changed his course, and was -soon mounting the stairs. There was no seat, but -the man at the desk said that there were enough -players to start another game. The game was -organized with four regulars, Bodney and another -fool. The regulars took twenty dollars' worth of -chips apiece; the two fools took ten, and within -ten minutes Bodney was buying more. A man got -up from the other table, and Bodney returned to -his old seat, where he knew that luck waited for -him. The desk man came over to him. "That -other gentleman is number one," said he. Just -then a new arrival took the seat which Bodney had -vacated and number one called out: "Let him go -ahead. I'll stay here." And there, sure enough, -was the pat diamond flush. Wasn't it singular that -he should have seen it glowing upon the surface of -his mind? And wasn't it fortunate that the pot -was opened ahead of him? He raised and the -opener stayed and drew one card. He bet a white -chip and Bodney raised. The opener gave him -what was termed the "back wash," re-raised. Then -the beauty of the flush began to fade. Could it be -that the fellow—the very same offensive fellow, who -had beaten him before—could have filled his hand? -Or, had he drawn to threes and "sized" Bodney for a -revengeful "bluff?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'll have to call you," said Bodney. He -put in his money and the offensive fellow showed -him a ten full.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You always beat me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do whenever I can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you make it a point to beat me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Make it a point to beat anybody."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I don't want any abuse and I won't have it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Play cards, boys," said the look-out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter with you, worms?" said the -offensive fellow, looking at Bodney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Play like brothers," spoke up the look-out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At a little after eleven o'clock Bodney came down -as heavy as a drowned man. His heart was full of -bitterness. He cursed the world and all that was -in it. He called on God to strike him dead. Then -he swore that there could be no God; there was -nothing but evil and he was the embodiment of it. -But if he had only ten dollars he could win out. -He had won, and it was but reason to suppose -that he could win again. Any old player, imbued -with the superstitions of the game, would have -told him that to go back was to lose. "I'll go over -and see that druggist again," he mused. "Strange -that I have lived in this town all my life and don't -know where to get money after eleven o'clock at -night. I ought to have set my stakes better than -that. And now, what excuse can I give for coming -back to borrow again so soon? Perhaps he isn't -there." Nor was he there. Bodney looked in with -anxiety toward the show case behind which he -expected to see his friend, and with contempt at the -soda-water man. He thought of the envelope. He -pictured himself standing there, smiling, a few -hours before—and like an arrow came the recollection -of the note directed to the preacher. He -wheeled about, rushed across the street, jostling -through the crowd which was still thick upon the -sidewalk, raced around the corner, swam through -another crowd, bounded across another street just -in front of a cable train, and, breathless, panted up -the stairway leading to the Wexton. Before -touching the electric button he tore open the envelope, -took out the money, destroyed the note; he -touched the button and wondered if the black porter -would ever come. Undoubtedly the game must -have broken up. No, there was the black face, grim -in the vitreous light. And there was a vacant seat, -his old, lucky seat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring me ten," he called, as he sat down. And -addressing the look-out, he asked if Goyle had -been there. He had played a few pots after -dinner, but had quit early.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he win?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think he win a few dollars. Said he had an -engagement on the West Side."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave me out," said a man, counting his imposing -stack of chips. "Never mind, I'll play this -one." A hand had been dealt him. "But I've got to -go after this hand; oughtn't to stay as long as I -do. Got to catch a train. Who opened it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did," replied a regular.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Raise you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So soon? Well, I'll have to trot you. Tear -me one off the roof."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll play these," said the man who had to catch -a train.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd better take some. He won't come round -again. Well, I'll chip it up to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Raise you three."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The regular raised him back. The man who had -to go raised, and the regular fired back at him, nor -did the contest end here, but when it did end the -regular spread an ace full to overcast with the shade -of defeat three queens and a pair. And the man who -had been in a hurry continued to sit there. At short -intervals, during half an hour or more, he had -snapped his watch, but he did not snap it now. -Trains might come and trains might go, but he was -not compelled to catch them; he lost his last chip, -bought more, lost, and, finally, accepted carfare -from the man at the desk. Bodney won, and the -world threw off its sables and put on bright attire, -and at two o'clock he thought of cashing in, though -not quite even. He lacked just seventy-five cents—three -red chips. He would play one more pot. He -lost, and now he was two dollars behind, the pot -having been opened for a dollar and twenty-five -cents. Pretty soon he had a big hand beaten.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see my finish," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can't win every pot," replied a railway -engineer, who had failed to take out his train. "I -have four pat hands beat and every set of threes I -pick up. Serves me right. Pot somebody for a -bottle of beer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're on," replied the dealer, a comical-looking -countryman, known as Cy. "Deal 'em lower, -I can see every card," someone remarked; and -just at that moment Cy turned over a deuce and -replied: "Can't deal 'em much lower than that, -can I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But who is this going down the stairs just as -daylight is breaking? And why is he making such -gestures? It is Bodney, and he is swearing that he -will never play again.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="wanted-to-see-his-son"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WANTED TO SEE HIS SON.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Howard had shared his father's sentiment with -regard to the old office, for then the sky was clear, -but now a cloud had come the atmosphere was -changed. And on his way home to dinner, after -a day spent without progress, he formed a resolve -to tell the old gentleman that he needed a fresher -and a brisker air than that blown about the ancient -temple of lore. It ought not to hurt him now since -he had begun to look upon his son with an eye so -dark with censure. Even if his affection had been -withdrawn his blood-interest must surely still -remain, the young man mused; even though sentiment -were dead, there must remain alive a desire to -see him prosper, and to prosper in that old place -was impossible. He believed that his father was -losing his mind; years of dry opinion, of unyielding -fact and the dead weight of precedent growing -heavier, smothered his mental life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The household, with the exception of the Judge, -was at dinner, and when Howard entered the dining -room his mother arose hastily and came to meet -him. "Your father wants to see you in the office," -she said, and putting her hand on his arm, she -added: "I don't know what he wants, but no -matter what it is, please bear with him—don't say -anything to annoy him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Has anything happened?" Howard asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Something, but I don't know what. Someone -called, I heard loud talking in the office, and after -the caller had gone, your father came out and said -that he wanted to see you as soon as you arrived. -Be gentle with him, dear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old gentleman was sitting at his desk when -Howard entered the office. He got up and for a -time stood looking at the young man with no -word of explanation. "Well, sir," he said, after a -time, "what will you do next?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have I done now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No quibbling, sir. You know what you have done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I pledge you my honor I do not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pledge me your what! Pledge me your old -clothes, but not your honor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wanted to see me, so mother says, and now -I should like to know why."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose that you are so innocent that you -can't even guess. Or is it that you are so forgetful -of your deeds that you cannot remember? Why -did you send that old fool out here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Send an old fool out here! I didn't send anyone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man took a step toward him with his -finger uplifted. His eyes were full of anger and -his finger shook, a willow in the wind. "How can -you deny it? You sent old Dr. Risbin, the -morphine eater, out here to see me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, did he come out here? But I swear I did -not send him. In fact, I told him not to come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, and is that the reason he came—because -you told him not to? He was never here before -in his life, and why should he say that you sent -him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because he is a poor old liar, I suppose. I -admit that I saw him in his office and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A gradual acknowledgment is better than no -acknowledgment at all. Why did you see him in -his office, or why did you speak of me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father, if you'll only be patient with me I will -tell you. Your bearing toward me has been -distressful. I was afraid that your mind—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Enough of that. My mind is sounder, sir, than -yours will ever be. But, suppose something were -wrong. Is he the physician to consult? Why, his -mind has been dead for years. Why did you -consult him if it were not in contempt of me? I ask -you why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was standing in the door of our office and -happened to notice his sign just across the hall; -and I thought that as he knew you well, I would -speak to him. I soon saw that he didn't know -what he was talking about, and when he suggested -that he ought to see you, I told him no, and -changed the subject. That's my offense, and I beg -your pardon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will try to believe you," said the Judge, -sitting down. "Your office is down town. This one -is mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, and I will not intrude. I wouldn't have -come in but you wanted—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge waved his hand. "Our business has -been transacted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yours has, but I have something to say. I don't -want to occupy that musty old den any longer. It -doesn't make any difference to me if there are a -thousand javelins of wit sticking in the walls, or a -thousand ghosts of oratory floating in the air, I -can't make a living so long as I stay in it. I don't -want to be of the past, but of the present. Your -success was not a past but a present, and my -present is as valuable to me as yours was to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are at liberty to get out of that office as -soon as you like. But before you go, put up some -sort of emblem expressive of your contempt of all -its memories. Stuff out a suit of old clothes with -straw, a scarecrow of the past, set it at the desk -and call it—me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please don't talk to me that way. I don't -mean any disrespect—I want to establish myself on -a modern footing. You know that Florence and I—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't speak of her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not? She is to be my wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not with my consent."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your consent is desirable, but not absolutely -necessary. I don't mean this in impudence; I -mean it merely to show my—our determination. -I don't know why you should oppose our marriage, -and I have no idea as to what extent you will -oppose it, but I wish to say that no extreme will have -any effect. You say that you are not ill; you -swear that your mind is not affected, and yet you -refuse to tell me the cause of your change toward -me. I must have done something, either consciously -or unconsciously, and now again I beg of -you to tell me what it is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man leaned forward with his eyes bent -upon the floor. "I have seen great actors, but -this—go away, Howard. Leave me alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Am I ever to know, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man pointed toward the door, and -Howard walked slowly out. His mother stood in the -hall. Her eyes were tearful, and taking his arm -she held it as if she would say something, but -liberated him, motioned him away, and went into the -office. The Judge got up, forcing a change upon -his countenance, smiled at her, took her hand and -led her to a chair. "Now, don't be worried," said -he. "I merely reprimanded Howard, as I had a -right to do, for sending an old fool, who calls -himself a doctor, out here to see me. That's all."</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-97"> -<span id="the-old-man-pointed-toward-the-door-and-howard-walked-slowly-out"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="The old man pointed toward the door, and Howard walked slowly out." src="images/img-162.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">The old man pointed toward the door, and Howard walked slowly out.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what did you mean by calling him an -actor? What has he done that he should be acting -now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing—nothing at all, I assure you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You said he was acting," she persisted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I did, but I didn't mean it. Oh, yes, -acting as if he didn't care for the memories of the -old office."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, dear, something has come between you -and Howard. What is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Between us, my dear? Surely not. We don't -agree on all points; he has his opinions and I have -mine; but there is no serious difference between -us. Come, I will show you. He and I will eat -dinner together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He led her to the dining room, where Howard -sat moodily looking at the table. He glanced up, -and the Judge waved his hand with something of -his old-time graciousness. "Any callers today, -Howard?" he asked, sitting down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Goyle, whom I am beginning not to like, and -Mr. Bradley."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whom you cannot help but like. A good man, -conscientious and yet not creed-bound."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is building up a great church," said Mrs. Elbridge. -"It is almost impossible to get a seat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, I don't attend as regularly as I should," -remarked the Judge, "but I am going to mend my -ways. Howard, shall we go together soon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall be delighted, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then let us appoint an early day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The father and the son laughed with each other, -and to the mother it was as if new strings, to -replace broken ones, had been put upon an old -guitar, and she was happy merely to listen; but -soon she was called away, attendant upon some -duty, and then a darkness fell upon the old man's -countenance. "Enough of this," he said. And -there was more than surprise in the look which -Howard gave him—there was grief in it. "Then -your good humor was assumed," he replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We may assume good humor as we assume -honesty—for policy," the Judge rejoined.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I swear I don't understand you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then don't strive to do so when your mother -is present. At such times, take me as you find me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My pleasure just now was real. It is a grief to -know that yours was not. I was in hopes that our -difference, whatever it is, for I don't know, was at -an end. You led me to believe so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lay no store by what you suppose I lead you -to believe. When our difference shall reach an end, -if such a thing is possible, I will tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you acknowledge a difference."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not denied it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you will not tell what it is?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, you are mocking me. Ah, come in, my -dear." Mrs. Elbridge had returned. "Yes, we will -go to hear Bradley preach. And I warrant I can -remember more of the sermon than you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Bradley is here now," said Mrs. Elbridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, is he? Did you tell him I would be in -pretty soon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has come to see Agnes, I think. He asked -for her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, the sly dog. Well, he couldn't ask for a -better girl. Are you going, Howard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, to take a walk with Florence, if she -cares to go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge frowned, but his wife did not notice it. -Howard did, however, and was sorry that he spoke -of his intention, but he had no opportunity to -apologize, if indeed he felt an inclination to do so. It -was a sorrow to feel that his father was set against -him, but to know that he was trying to influence the -girl was more than a sorrow—it was a grief -hardened with anger. He found Florence and they -went out together, walking southward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How soft the air is," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nature is breathing low."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They walked on in silence beneath the cottonwoods -and elms. Laughter, the buzz of talk and -tunes softly hummed came from door-steps and -porticos where families and visitors were gathered, -to the disgust of Astors and flunkies from over the sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Florence," said Howard, "before I came home -this evening I was determined to move out of that -old building down town, and to get an office in a -modern building. But now I have decided upon -something else."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To remain there out of respect for your father -and his memories?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. To get away from this town—out West, -to build a home for you. I hope you don't object."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Object. I am pleased. I think it is the very -wisest thing you could do. And as soon as you are -ready for me, I will go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took her hand and held it till, passing under -a lamp, near a group of persons on a flight of steps, -he gently let it fall. "Yes, it is the wisest thing I -can do. The law is altogether different from what -it was when father was in his prime—the practice -of it, I mean—and I don't believe I could ever build -up here. Oh, I might. The fact is, I don't want to -practice here. I am disheartened. The idea of a -man, at his age, turning against—do you know -what he holds against me, Florence?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard, you must not ask me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Must not ask you? Then you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please don't ask me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were in the light, amid laughter and the -humming of tunes, and he waited till they reached -a place where there was no one to hear, and then he -said: "If you know and love me, it would be -unnatural not to tell me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard, Peter may have denied his Lord, martyrs -may have denied their religion, but you can't -deny my love."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I can't; but how can you keep from me -a secret that concerns me so vitally? Do you -suppose I could hold back anything from you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not if your mother were dead and you had taken -an oath upon her memory?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not if God were dead and I had sworn—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard, you must not talk that way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was holding her hand and he felt the ripples -of her agitation. "I think I know your secret," he -said. "You have cause to believe that his mind is -giving way and you don't want to distress me by -confessing it—have been sworn to silence, as if it -could be kept hidden from me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She admitted that she did not believe that his -mind was sound, and he accepted it as the secret -which she had at first held back, but her conscience -arose against the deception of leaving him so -completely in the dark. "Howard, you have often said -in your joking way that I have the honor of a man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, the honor of the Roman famed for honor. -But honor can be cool, and I need something -warmer, now—love. I am, as you know, deeply distressed -at father's condition; it has changed nearly all my -plans—every plan, in fact, except the one great -plan—our plan. Mother begs me to be patient. -But for what end, if there is to be no improvement -in his treatment of me? I took a hint from Uncle -William, not intended for me, that there has been -insanity in the family. That's a comforting thought, -now, isn't it? Why do you tremble so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I believe that there is truth in Uncle -William's hint."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it should not have any effect upon our -plans—our marriage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would marry you, Howard, if you were a maniac."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were in the dark, and he put his arm about -her. "Then, let the whole world go insane," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The soft air murmured among the leaves of the -cottonwood. A band of happy children danced -about an organ grinder in the street. A fraudulent -newsboy cried a murder in Indiana Avenue, and -from afar came as if in echo, "All about the murder -on Prairie Avenue."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard, knowing me as you do, and supposing -that I had not told all I know, and I were to ask -you to wait, what would you say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not knowing you so well I would say, 'out with -it,' but knowing you, I would say, 'wait.' But what -do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean to wait four weeks and no longer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now you begin to mystify me. But we'll not -think about it. I wonder what's the trouble with -George. I never saw a fellow change so. I -believe that fellow Goyle is having a bad influence on -him. There is something uncanny about that chap. -Did you ever notice his eyes? They have a sort of -a draw, like a nerve. Have you noticed it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have noticed that I don't like him. He looks -like a professional spiritualist."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess he is in one sense—in slate writing—guess -he has most everything put down on the slate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what you mean."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Has everything charged that he can. He's a -fraud, no doubt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Agnes says so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, well, what Agnes says couldn't be taken as -evidence. She sees a man and has a sort of flutter. -If the flutter's pleasant the man's all right; if it -isn't, he's all wrong."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there might be intuition in a flutter," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, or prejudice. But George has always been -a good judge of men. He has excellent business -sense—has invested in lots and can make a fair -profit on them at any time he cares to sell. Shall -we turn back here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Agnes and the preacher sat in the drawing room, -she flouncing about on a sofa, and he dignified on -a straight-back chair. It is rather remarkable that -a preacher is more often attracted by a mischief-loving -girl than by a sedate maiden; and this may -account for the truth that ministers' sons are -sometimes so full of that quality known, impiously, as -the devil. In the early days of the English church, -when the meek parson, not permitted to hope that -he might one day chase a fox or drink deep with -the bishop, and who was forced to retire to the -servants' hall when the ale and the cheese cakes came -on, had cause in secret to offer up thanks that not -more than two of his sons were pirates on the high -seas. And Bradley sat there watching a cotillion of -mischief dancing in the eyes of the girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have never been connected with any -church, have you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Once," she replied, with a graceful flounce. -"But I danced out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Danced out, did you say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. I got religion in the fall and lost it in the -winter—by going to a ball and dancing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why," said the preacher, slowly, patting his -knee, "that did not cause you to lose it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, that's what they said, anyway. And I -know I cried after I got home because my religion -was gone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a crime to teach such rubbish."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you don't think I lost it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I must have it yet," she cried, clapping her -hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Agnes, your purity is of itself a religion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know about that. I am wicked -sometimes—I say hateful things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there is no bitterness in your soul."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, but I think there is, sometimes. -I know once I wished that a woman was dead; but -she was the meanest thing you ever saw. And she -did die not long after that and I was scared nearly -to death—and I prayed and sent flowers to the -funeral. Wasn't that wicked?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The preacher admitted that it was wayward, but -he could not find it in his inflamed heart to call -her wicked. She was too engaging, too handsome -to be wicked. Nature could not so defame herself, -he thought, though he knew that there was many a -beautiful flower without perfume. But while -settled love condemns, love springing into life -forgives. "Wayward," said the preacher, "Perhaps -thoughtless would be a better word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, it wasn't thoughtless, because I was thinking -hard all the time. Don't you get awfully tired -studying up something to preach about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He smiled upon her. "All work in time becomes -laborious, and that is why congregations desire -young men—they want freshness. An old man -may continue to be fresh, but his brain must be -wonderful and his soul must be a garden of flowers. -The wisdom of the old man often offends the -young and tires the middle-aged; human nature -demands entertainment, and the preacher who -entertains while he instructs is the one who makes -the most friends and the one who indeed does the -most good. The unpoetic preacher is doomed; the -gospel itself is a poem. The practical man may not -read poetry, may not understand it; but he likes it -in a sermon, for it breathes the gentleness and the -purity of Christ. But poetry cannot be laborious, -cannot be dry with studied wisdom, and therefore, -when a preacher becomes a great scholar, he forgets -his simple poetry and the people begin to forget him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My!" exclaimed the girl, "what a sermon you -have preached. And it's true, too, I think. I know -we had an old man at our church—one of the best -old men you ever saw—but they got tired of him. -He—he couldn't hold anybody. Even the old -men gaped and yawned. He was giving them dry -creed. Well, a young man came along and -preached for us. And it was like spring time -coming in the winter. He made us laugh and cry. -People like to cry—it makes them laugh so much -better afterward. Well, the old man had to go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And after a time, the young man, grown old, -will have to go. We must keep this life fresh; we -must look for incentives to freshness. A preacher -ought to be the most genial of men. And his wife -ought to be genial; indeed, innocent mischief -would not ill become her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at her, but she did not look at him. -She was leaning back with her eyes half closed. "I -hear Mr. Howard and Agnes coming," she said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-proposition-to-make"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A PROPOSITION TO MAKE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Two weeks passed, and during the time Howard -busied himself with the writing of letters to -numerous real-estate men and postmasters in the West. -Sometimes he would put down his pen to muse -over what Florence had said, that she might tell -him something after the lapse of four weeks, and -more than once had he spoken to her with regard -to what seemed to him as her vague information, -but she had told him to wait. He knew her well -enough not to persist. One of his earliest memories -was a certain sort of stubbornness which formed a -part of her character. She was gentle and lovable, -but strong. He fancied that had she been reared -in a different sphere of life she would have become -a leader in the Salvation Army.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney came to the office every day, but was so -restless that he rarely remained long. Once he -came to the door, saw the preacher within, and -stole away without speaking. And one -afternoon Howard heard him and Goyle tossing high -words in the hall, but a few moments later they went -out, arm in arm. One morning the Judge came in. -"I didn't know but you had left this place," he said, -standing near the door and looking about to search -for the old memories, Howard mused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir. The fact is I may not move to any -other office in this town."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In this town!" the old man repeated. "What -other town is there?" To a Chicago man that -ought to have established his complete soundness -of mind. "I can give you credit for all sorts of—let -me say, weakness—but I cannot see why you -should be so foolish as to leave this city."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You came at an early day," said Howard. "I -might better my prospects by going to a town that -is still in its early day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Um, and come back broke. You haven't stuffed -that old suit of clothes yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's time enough for that, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What! Then you really intend to do it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't you command me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"None of your banter." The Judge walked over -to the old iron safe, with the names Elbridge & -Bodney slowly rusting into the invisible past, put -his hand upon it and stood there with his head -bowed. From the street came the sharp clang of a -fireman's gong, and the old man sprang back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a fire somewhere," said Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is, sir; it is here," the Judge replied, -putting his hand on his breast. Yes, it was now only -too evident that his mind was diseased. The young -man went to him, took his hand, looked into his -eyes. "I beg of you to believe that my love for -you is as strong as ever. I don't know how to -humble myself, for you have taught me independence, -but I would get down on my knees to you -if—" The old man threw his hand from him and -hastened from the room. In the hall he -encountered the opium eating doctor. "Why, my -dear Judge, I am surprised to see you out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you will be still more surprised if you don't -get out of my way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But won't you stop a while for old-time's sake?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will do nothing, sir, but attend to my own -affairs, and I request you to do the same."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, yes, of course. Well, drop in when -you are passing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old doctor stepped up to the door of -Howard's office. The young man stood confronting -him. "I have thought over what you said the other -day concerning your father, and have come to the -conclusion that you are right," said the doctor. -"There is something wrong with him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I wish you wouldn't irritate him. And, by -the way, why did you tell him that I told you to go -out to the house?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't you request me to go?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I certainly did not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, really, I misunderstood you. By the way, -someone told me that you intended to give up this -office. It is a better one than mine, having the -advantage of a better view, and I don't know but I -might take it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not going to give it up yet a while."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney came into the hall and the old doctor -shuffled into his own den. "I guess he wants to -poison someone," said Bodney, nodding toward -the doctor's office. "Anybody with you?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," Howard answered, as they both stepped -into the office. "Why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I am getting so I don't want to see anybody. -I feel as if I were a thousand years old," he -added, dropping upon a chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't look well, that's a fact. What seems -to be the trouble?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know. Liver, perhaps. Goyle been here -today?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, and I don't want him to come again. Now, -look here, George, I believe that fellow has a bad -influence on you. You are not the same man since -you became so intimate with him. What's his -business? What does he do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd rather not talk about him, Howard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then his influence must be bad. Turn him over -to me the next—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," Bodney quickly interposed. "Let everything -go along as it is till the proper time and -then—then I will attend to him. I am not in a -position now to do anything, but one of these days I -am going to tell you something that will open your -eyes to the perfidy of man—man close to you. -Don't say anything more now; I am crushed. I am—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He leaned forward with his arms on a table and -his head on his arms, his eyes hidden from the -light. "Why, my dear boy," said Howard, going -to him, touching him gently, "don't look at it that -way. It is not so bad as that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is worse," said Bodney, in a smothered voice. -"It is worse than you can possibly picture it. And -when I tell you, you will hate me as you never -hated a human being on the earth. Don't ask me -now, for I can't tell you. Just simply don't pay -any attention to me. But I beg of you not to say a -word at home. I have been led into hell, Howard, -and there is no way out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, there is, my boy. There is the door -through which you went in. Go out at it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't. You don't know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you in financial trouble? Has that fellow -led you—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Worse than that, Howard. But I can't tell you now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once his long-delayed confession flowed to the -very brim of utterance, but he forced it back and -sat in silence. Howard went out and Bodney was -thankful to be alone with his own misery; but -he was not to be long alone—Goyle came in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, what's the matter, old chap? You seem -to be in the dumps. Come, cheer up now. You've -got no cause to be so blue? You don't see those -fellows over yonder in the bank blue, do you? I -guess not. And they are the biggest sort of -robbers. I beat the horses today. And here's thirty of -what I owe you. Oh, it's coming around all right. -You can't keep a squirrel on the ground, you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right," replied Bodney, brightening -as he took the bank notes. "Can't keep a squirrel -on the ground, but you can shoot him out of a -tree."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But we haven't been shot out of the tree yet. -Things will begin to come our way now, you see -if they don't. I've got a proposition to submit to -you that will make us both rich—regular gold mine, -with not a dull moment in it—life from beginning -to end. I can't, tell you now, but hold yourself in -readiness for it. You can take that thirty and -maybe win a hundred at the Wexton. In the -meantime I'll be perfecting my plans. We shall need -four or five agents, but I can get them all right, -and if we don't live in clover a bumble bee never -did. Now, don't you feel better? Look at me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I feel better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And don't you believe we'll pull out all right? -Hah?" He put his hand on Bodney's shoulder and -looked into his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course you do. We have been living in the -night, but the sun is rising now. Let's go over to -the Wexton and eat dinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ought to stay here till Howard comes back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, just to tell him you are going out? If -you go out he'll know you are gone, won't he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You go on and I will come pretty soon. I said -something to Howard just now that I want to correct."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," said Goyle. "But come over as soon -as you can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Howard returned he found Bodney idly -drawing comic pictures on a sheet of paper. He -looked at him in astonishment. "Why, what has -happened?" Howard asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My fit's passed, that's all. I must have talked -like a wild man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I rather think you did. You alarmed me—said -you were worse than ruined. What has occurred -to change it all?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney laughed as he looked about, making -ready to take his leave. He was beginning to be -restless, for the fever was rising fast. He turned his -eye inward to look for full hands and flushes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing has occurred," said he. "The fit of -melancholy has simply passed. That's all." He -was moving toward the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be in a hurry," said Howard. "There is -something I want to talk about."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I haven't time now," Bodney replied. "I have -thought of something that must be attended to -at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just a moment, George. Hasn't Goyle been here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Goyle? No, not today. And, by the way," he -added, turning toward Howard, "I think I must -have spoken rashly about him just now. There is -nothing wrong in his make-up; he may appear -queer, but he's all right when you come down to -principle. He thinks the world of you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want him to think anything of me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney did not stay to reply. His fever was -now so strong that it would have taken two giants -to hold him. He fought his way through the -crowd, and, panting, rushed into the poker room. -They greeted him with the complimentary encouragement -usually poured out upon the arrival of the -"sucker." "He'll make you look at your hole -card." "Cash my chips." "None of us got any -show now." It was nearly dinner time when -Bodney sat down to the game, and when the meal was -announced he was winner. Goyle came in and sat -beside him at the dinner table. "The scheme I -spoke to you about is a sure road to fortune," he -said, in a low tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bank robbery?" Bodney asked, smiling with the -brightness of a winner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, it's not the robbery of the robbers. It is less -dangerous and more profitable—almost legitimate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Almost!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—but full of sauce."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you think you'd better tell me what it is?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not now. I want to see you alone—tomorrow. -In the meantime make up your mind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How can I make up my mind to do something -that hasn't been proposed?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Make up your mind to agree to my plan no -matter what it may be. We are going to ride in -carriages."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or in a police van, which?" said Bodney, smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle put his hand on Bodney's shoulder. "I -see you are in a hurry to get back to the game. -All right, but keep your mind on my proposition."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A proposition that hasn't been made," replied -Bodney, getting up from the table. The game was -re-forming, for the poker player does not dawdle -over a meal; he eats just as a pig does—as fast -as he can.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed that Bodney's luck had come to stay. -"You make your third man every time," said a -losing wretch whose rent was past due. A kindlier eye -might have seen through him his ragged children, -but the eye of the winner looks at his stack—no -poverty and no wretchedness softens its glitter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The offensive fellow was there, sitting to the left -of Bodney, but he was not offensive now; defeat -had subdued him; and the Professor was present, -in the darkness of hard luck, and with his air of -mystery. "You either made your hand or you didn't," -he said to a man who had drawn one card.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You ought to know," the man replied, looking -at him with a steady eye. "You are a mind-reader."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, when there is a mind to read. I will call -you." He did so and lost his money.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You knew what I had in my note," said -Bodney. "Don't you remember, when I met you on -the corner? You said it was written with a -pencil. Why couldn't you tell what that man -held—whether or not he had made his flush?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Both science and psychology stop and grow -dizzy when they come to cards," the Professor replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle came in and put his hand on Bodney's -shoulder. "Slaughter 'em," he said. "You've got -everything coming your way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I don't know how long it will last," Bodney -replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext" id="id1"><span>"Don't scare away your luck with mistrust. And -above all, don't forget that I have a proposition to -make. Well, I'll see you tomorrow." He went out, -humming a tune. Bodney looked round to see -whether he was gone, and seemed to be relieved -upon seeing him pass out. Now it was time to quit, -the slave thought. He had not counted his chips, -for that was bad luck, but he must have won nearly -sixty dollars. Still the cards kept coming, two -pairs holding good, and to quit was an insult to the -goddess of good fortune. He remembered hearing -a gambler say, speaking of an unlucky player: "He -stays to lose, but not to win." At ten o'clock he -felt that he had reached his limit, and counted his -chips—eighty-seven dollars. "I'll have to quit you," -he said, shoving back. And now how bright and -spirited the streets were. He threw a piece of -silver upon the banner of the Salvationists.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="did-not-touch-her"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">DID NOT TOUCH HER.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As Howard was going out he met Bradley -coming up the stairs. "I have caught you in time," -said the preacher. "I want you to go to dinner with -me—at a place off Van Buren Street, where they -cater to the poor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is rather a tough neighborhood for a dinner," -Howard replied. "Wouldn't you rather go to a -better place?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I would rather like to see how the -unfortunate dine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They went to a restaurant that opened into an -alley. The long room was furnished with plain -tables, without cloths, and not clean. There was -sand on the floor, and on the whitewashed walls, -together with Scriptural texts, against one of -which some brute had thrown a quid of tobacco, -were placards which read, "Lodging ten cents." They -took seats at a table and a girl came up and -put down a piece of paper, scrawled upon with a -pencil. It was a bill of fare. The price set opposite -each dish was five cents, and at the bottom it was -announced that any order included bread. The -place was gradually filling up with a mottled crowd, -negroes, a sprinkle of Chinamen, Greeks, Polish -Jews, tramps—and off in a corner sat an American -Indian. "The air is bad," said the preacher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No worse than the bill of fare," Howard replied. -"Let us get out. Don't you see how they are eyeing us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us at least make a pretense of eating. I -like to watch these odd pieces of driftwood."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Washed from the wreck of humanity," said Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The preacher looked at him with a sad smile. -"Yes, and perhaps not all of them are responsible -for the wreck. They couldn't weather the storm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The crowd was noisy and profane. The preacher -spoke to a waitress, a girl with a hard, unconcerned -face. "I thought that this place was under -the auspices of the gospel," said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not look at him as she replied: "I believe -some sort of a church duck did start it, but a feller -named Smith runs it now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then services are not held here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him. "What sort of services?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Church services."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I guess not. These guys don't want -services—they want grub."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe I will address them," the preacher -said to Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On the subject of foreign missions?" Howard asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A merited sarcasm," the minister replied. "Let -us go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the alley near the door a woman and a ruffian -were quarreling. The woman held a piece of money -in her hand and the ruffian was trying to take it -from her. A policeman passed down the alley, but -paid no attention. The ruffian demanded the -money. The woman refused. He knocked her -down, took it from her hand and was walking off -when Bradley touched him on the shoulder. "Give -her back that money," he said. The man drew -back his ponderous fist. At that moment Howard -ran up. The ruffian looked at him and let his arm -fall. Bradley called the policeman. He turned and -came walking slowly back, swinging his club. -"What's wanted?" he asked. Bradley told him -what had occurred. "It's a lie!" exclaimed the -woman, stepping forward. "You never hit me, did -you, Jack?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never touched her," said Jack, and a group -about the door of the restaurant roared with -laughter. "Move on," said the policeman, and -Howard and the preacher moved on, the crowd -jeering them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What put it into your head to go there?" Howard asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought it was my duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A man's duty lies mostly among his own people," -said the young lawyer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, among stricken humanity."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A heroic idea, but fallacious. The Lord takes -care of His own. These people are evidently not -His own. Pardon my slang, but here is a genuine -gospel shop. Let us go in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the door of a room forbiddingly neat to the -class which it intended to feed, they were met by a -cool young woman and a ministerial man. It was -a coffee house established to offset the influence -of the saloon. At the rear end of the room a young -fellow played upon a wheezing melodion. Girls -were serving coffee. On the walls were pictures -of the Prodigal's Return, Daniel in the Lion's Den, -Jacob before Pharaoh, The Old Home, several cows, -a horse with his head over a barred gate, and a -child lamenting over a broken doll. Howard called -attention to the fact that the sandwiches were thin -and that the coffee looked pale. "It is charity," said -he, "and charity is pale. Now, let me take you -to the enemy—the den against which these mild -batters are directed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They went to a saloon. The place was ablaze -with light. The walls were hung with paintings, -some of them costly, some modest, others representing -figures as nude as Lorado's nymphs. On -a side counter was a roast of beef, weighing at least -a hundred pounds. "Look at that," said Howard. -"Vice sets us a great roast—and for five cents, a -glass of beer, the vagabond may feast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The devil pandering to the drunkard and the -glutton," replied the preacher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the devil is not pale; he is not niggardly—he -is bountiful. To cope with him, Virtue must -be more liberal—give more beef and better coffee."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good," said the minister. "I am going to -preach a sermon on the Virtue of Vice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Red beef versus pale coffee," Howard said, as -they stepped out. "And now," he added, "let us get -something to eat and then go home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Home," repeated the preacher. "I have no -home—I have lodgings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know, and I mean that you must go home -with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley muttered a protest, but was delighted -at the thought of seeing Agnes again so soon. -He had spent the afternoon at the Judge's house, -had left to unite in marriage a servant girl and a -hackman, and now wanted an excuse to return, not -that he needed one, for the Judge had urged upon -him the freedom of the house; but timid love must -show cause, or rather must apologize to appearances. -And, though the cause now was not strong, -yet he argued that the fact of meeting Howard -would make it valid enough. He felt that his -secret was not known to the Judge, as if that would -have made any difference; and he was sure that the -girl did not more than suspect him. He wanted -her to suspect him, for there was a sweetness in it, -but he wanted it to be as yet only a suspicion. He -did not acknowledge that he had quite made up -his mind regarding her fitness as a wife; and when -a man thus reasons he is hopelessly entangled. -When a man decides that a woman is not fitted to -be his wife he may have arrived at reason but has -stopped short of love.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They went to a place that makes a specialty of -crabs and sat down in the cool breath of an electric -fan. "Quite a difference in our bill of fare," said -Bradley, taking up a long card framed in brass -edged wood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And quite as much difference in our company," -Howard replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The old saying, Howard: 'One half the world -doesn't know how the other half lives.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doesn't know how the other half dies," said -Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are sententious tonight. I have led you -into a place that has sharpened your wits."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But not into a place that sharpened my appetite. -But it makes a meal all the more enjoyable afterward. -Do you find anything that hits your fancy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the meal the preacher talked of the vices -of a great city. A truthful farmer could have told -him that there are almost as many vices in the -country, and an observant moralist could have -assured him that the great mass of women parading -the sidewalks at night were sent thither by the -rural reprobate, proprietor of a horse and buggy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Vice is in man," said Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, but how are we to eradicate it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By educating woman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know that I fully comprehend you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Were you ever in a place where women are shameless?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said the preacher. "The only shameless -women I ever met are those who accost me in the -street."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And if," said Howard, "you were to go into a -thousand such places you would not meet a -well-educated woman. Some of them are bright; some -speak several languages, but I have yet to find one -who speaks good English. But we are on a subject -that is as old as the ocean. It is, however, always -new to one in your profession, I suppose. You -preach about it, and innocence wonders at your -insight, but the young fellow who reports your -sermon laughs in his sleeve."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, my gracious, Howard, what must we do, -ignore it all?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I give it up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are young to take so gloomy a view."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't view it at all," said Howard. "I -shoulder my way through it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An elderly woman, handsomely dressed, came up -and held out her hand to the preacher, who arose, -bowed over it and declared his pleasure at -meeting her. Then he introduced her to Howard, a -woman noted for her work in the slums. A part -of her labor was to talk morality to the girls in -department stores, to make them pious and virtuous -on three dollars a week. She kept a house of refuge -which she visited once a day, to talk to the women -who had been gathered in from the streets and -the dens rented to vice by the rich. Her register -showed that within the past ten years thousands of -women had been reclaimed. But the register did -not show how many had gone back to loud music -and shame, preferring the glare of infamy, tired out -with the simmer of the tea-kettle and the shadows of -the kitchen. The preacher had visited her place -and had complimented her upon the work she was doing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, what has become of Margaret, the blonde -girl?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The matron shook her head. "She became -dissatisfied and left us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the one called Fanny. Where is she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she was too pretty and went away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Julia?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't you hear about her? Well, well. Why, -the newspapers were full of it. She left us and -shortly afterward married a rich man. He took her -to his mansion and gave her everything that heart -could wish, but it did not suffice. He returned home -after an absence from the city to find a drunken -crowd in his house, and he turned her out. I am -so glad to have met you again. Good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley began to talk of something foreign, to -lead Howard's mind away, but the young man -looked at him with a smile and said: "You see that -a palace is not even sufficient.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Her moral nature had not been trained," Bradley -replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not that, Mr. Bradley. Her miserable -little head had not been trained. Morality without -intellectual force is a weakness waiting for a temptation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't say that, Howard; it is a monstrous -thought. Brain is not the whole force of this life. -There is something stronger than brain. Love is -stronger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it overturns brain. And I will not argue -against it, though it might be the cause of thousands -of wretched feet on our thoroughfares tonight. It -is a glory or a disgrace. But we have been -moralists long enough. Let us go home."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="with-an-ear-turned-toward-the-door"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WITH AN EAR TURNED TOWARD THE DOOR.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Mrs. Elbridge met Howard and the preacher in -the hall. She told them that the girls had gone to -a meeting of the Epworth League, a short -distance away. They had gone to a religious -gathering held in the interest of the young, but the -preacher felt a deadening sense of disappointment. -"They will be back soon," said Mrs. Elbridge, -seeming to divine the effect her information had made -upon him. Howard heard his father and Uncle -William talking in the office. "We will wait for -the girls in here," he said, leading the way into -the drawing room. Mrs. Elbridge went in to tell -the Judge, and shortly afterward entered the -drawing room with him. The old gentleman paid no -attention to Howard, but warmly shook hands with -Bradley, as if he had not seen him only a few hours -before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Delighted to see you, Mr. Bradley."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard glanced at his mother and she read a -communication in his eye. It was that in the old -man's enthusiasm there was added evidence of -mental weakness. The Latin may express delight -at seeing one a dozen times a day, but with an -Anglo-Saxon more than one "delight" within -twenty-four hours is an extreme.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley looked embarrassed. He said that he -was glad to see the Judge, which was hardly true, -as he was not prepared at that moment to be glad -or even pleased. His heart had gone over to the -Epworth League, not to worship God, but one of -God's creatures, which, after all, is a pardonable -backsliding. He remarked that he and Howard -had encountered quite an adventure, giving it in -detail, but to avoid any moralizing, having had -enough of that for one evening, hastened to change -the subject, asking if Mr. William had become any -nearer settled as to his dates. This brought a flow -of good humor. The Judge looked toward the -door. "He has so far improved," said he, "as to -admit that at times he may possibly be wrong. I -asked him if it were possible to be right, and then -we had our battle to fight over again." He offered -the preacher a cigar, but ignored his son. The -mother noticed it and sighed. Howard smiled at -her sadly, and shook his head. Bradley took the -cigar abstractedly and after holding it for a time, -offered it to Howard, who declined it. The Judge -glanced at him but said nothing. William came in. -"John," said he, after speaking to Bradley, "I saw -old Bodsford this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not old Bill Bodsford."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, old Bill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought he died years ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, he has been out in Colorado. I haven't -seen him since seventy-eight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you sure?" the Judge asked, winking at -Bradley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ought to know. I met him in St. Louis in -seventy-eight—seventy-eight or seventy-nine—in -July, about the fifth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"About the fifth. How can a date be about the fifth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean that it was either the fourth, fifth or -sixth. He told me then that he was on his way -to New Orleans, by boat. It was during that -intensely hot weather when so many people were -sun—but that was in seventy-nine, wasn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't remember," said the Judge, winking at -Howard by mistake and then frowning to -undeceive him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I think it was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Seventy-nine," said the preacher, at a venture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I couldn't have seen old Bill in seventy-eight. -But I saw him today—and he looks like a -grizzly bear. And he didn't seem to be in very good -circumstances. But the last time I saw him before -that—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In seventy-nine," interrupted the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm not so sure about that, John. Let me -see. I was in St. Paul and went from there directly -to St. Louis. Yes. Now, I haven't been in St. Paul -but once since seventy-eight and that was year -before last. Went directly to St. Louis. It must -have been seventy-eight, John. Yes, it was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, go ahead with your story," said the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it's no story. I was simply telling you -when I met old Bill the last time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And is that all there is to it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All! Isn't it enough? I didn't start to tell a -story and you know it well enough. Look here, -Howard," he added, turning upon the young -lawyer, "are you fixing to jump on me, too?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all, Uncle Billy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Uncle Billy, is it? Then I know you've -got it in for me. Mr. Bradley, I studied for the -ministry—not very hard, I admit—but I studied, -and I am sorry sometimes that I didn't go so far as -to put on the cloth. It would have at least protected -me from ridicule."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley smiled upon him in a lonesome sort of -way, with his ear turned toward the front door, -listening for the coming of Agnes. The family joke, -so eternally green for the Judge, was but dry grass -to him. His soul was panting for the sweet waters -of love, the babbling brook of a girl's delightful -mischief. But the mind can talk shop while the -soul is panting. "You no doubt would have added -strength to our profession," he said. "I call it -profession in want at the present moment of a better -term. Why did you give up your intention? Not -want of faith, I hope."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge shook her head as if to imply that -there could be no want of faith in one connected -with her family. "Well, I don't know," said -William. "But the scheme, if I may so express it, -struck me as being not exactly useless, but, let us -say, hopeless."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hopeless," echoed the preacher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. The warfare has been going on nearly -two thousand years, and the victory is not yet in -sight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At what date did it begin?" the Judge asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William began to puff up. "Now, look here, -John, this is a serious discussion. Is it possible that -there is nothing serious except in the law, in the -names of your old clients? Do you keep everything -serious shut up in your safe?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge's countenance changed, like the -sudden turning down of a light, and he made a -distressful gesture. "Don't, William; don't say that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, what did I say to shock you so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge got up and slowly walked back into -his office. William looked at Mrs. Elbridge. -"Rachel, did I say anything?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He isn't well, William, and we never know what -is going to displease him. But he means nothing -by it, Mr. Bradley," she added. "Sometimes he -begins to joke in its old way, but it has been long -since we heard his laugh in its old heartiness. I -wish you would talk to him, Mr. Bradley. I know -he is not well, but he won't permit a doctor to come -near him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The preacher assured her that he would. He did -not believe that there was any serious trouble; it -was the strain of former years now claiming its debt -of his constitution. "Nature does not forget," said -he. "But nature may be humored. I have noticed -a change in him, but I am inclined to think that he -is gradually improving."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard was silent, though the minister looked at -him at the conclusion of his speech as if expecting -some sort of reply. "He doesn't forget about my -dates, no matter how much of a change he has -undergone," said William. "But, as to our -discussion: I read some little in those days, and my -mind led me into bogs and swamps—into doubts, -if I may say so. It seemed to me that the whole -plan was marked out and couldn't be changed. I -remember having come across this startling -question: 'If man can make his own destiny; if he can, -by his own free will, arrest the accomplishment of -the general plan, what becomes of God?' That -struck me, sir, like a knockout blow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yet," said Howard, "you say that the -French have a slop which they call literature."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What! I said so? Well, what if I did?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have quoted Balzac."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have I? But, sir, do you appoint yourself -to preside over my conscience?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't say anything about your conscience, -Uncle Billy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, but you Uncle Billy me into a broil, -that's what you do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The preacher's mind had caught the quotation, -relating as it did to the shop, and he smiled as he -said: "I am afraid, Uncle William, that the young -man has read too much for us. In an argument -he is a porcupine with sharp quills."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A pig with the bristles of impudence," said -William, and smiled an apology to the mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nevertheless," remarked the preacher, returning -to the subject, "I don't see how the eye of faith -could have been dimmed by such a mote. Conscience—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Meaning education," Howard interrupted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister bowed to Howard, but continued to -address himself to William. "Conscience ought to -have pointed out the good you could do. You -could at least have gone to a foreign country—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or off Van Buren Street," said Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley braced himself for a debate. Alone with -Howard he might have said, "let it pass," but in -the presence of a woman, a believer in his faith, a -preacher must not shun a controversy. It would -be an acknowledgment of the strength of the doubt -and of the weakness of faith. So he braced himself -against the wall of creed, and with polemic finger -raised was about to proceed when he heard the -front door open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The girls," said Mrs. Elbridge, glad enough to -break in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So soon?" remarked Bradley, looking at his -watch and meaning so late. Florence and Agnes -came in, laughing. Bradley got up with a bow. -"You here?" said Agnes, and then corrected herself -by saying that she was pleased to see him there. -"I never know how anything is going to sound," -she continued, throwing her hat on a sofa. "It's all -improvisation with me. I never saw as awkward -a man in my life—" Bradley looked at her with -such a start that she hastened to exclaim: "Oh, -not you, Mr. Bradley—the young man who walked -home with us. I couldn't for the life of me get it -out of my head that he wasn't on stilts." She sat -down on the sofa. Bradley made bold to go over -and sit down beside her, taking up her hat, looking -about for some place to put it and ending by -holding it on his knees, awkwardly pressing them -together. He felt that Howard was laughing at him; -he knew that Agnes was. But she didn't offer to -take the hat. Florence, however, relieved him, -and then everyone laughed except William. The -preacher had been placed in an awkward position, -though anyone might have made a grace of it—anyone -but a man whom custom almost forces to adopt -solemnity as a badge of office; and William gave -Howard credit for it all. In certain humors he -would have charged the young man with a rainy -day, a frost or a cold wind. He looked at him in -his reproachful way and cleared his throat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it now, Uncle William?" Howard asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't ask me. You ought to know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I don't. I haven't said a word or done a -thing that you should give me the bad eye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rachel," said the old man, "it seems to me that -the more he reads the more slang he uses. The -'bad eye!' That belongs to the police court."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then it is not a quotation from Balzac."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never you mind about quotations. I have -quoted before you were born—and I knew, sir, -from what source. But I won't stay to be -browbeaten. I will leave you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way," Howard called after him, "if you -want a pipe of good tobacco step into my room. -You'll find a fresh can on the table."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want any of your tobacco, sir; I don't -want anything you've got."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley might have thought that in this family -the joke was overworked, that is, had he been -prepared to think anything. But he was not. His -mind was aglow from the light beside him, and his -ideas, if at that moment he had any, were as gold -fishes in a globe, swimming round and round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Florence went to the piano. Howard stood beside -her. Mrs. Elbridge went out. It was time, and -she knew it. William appeared at the door. "I -thought you said that your tobacco was on the table -in your room. What right have you got—what -cause have I ever given you to deceive me in that -way?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You said you didn't want any of my tobacco."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You said it was on the table. Of course I don't -want it—I wouldn't have it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You just wanted to see where it was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't care anything about it, sir. I want you -to understand that as you go along."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, but the can of tobacco, I remember -now, is in the closet on the shelf."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William went away, and the young man knew -that in the morning his tobacco can would be -empty. Florence played the air of a slow, old love -song, and between the notes fell the soft words, her -own and Howard's; they looked into each other's -eyes, eyes so familiar to both, eyes they could no -more remember first seeing than we can remember -the first sky, the first star—love as old as -recollection and as young as the moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is one thing we can always say, and Bradley -said it: "I shall miss you when you are gone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not gone yet," Agnes replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you are not getting tired of us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tired?" She raised her eyes and he looked into -them, into the depth of their blue mystery. "No, -I am having lots of fun."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fun! Is that all?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't that enough? That's all I want."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But life is not all fun."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No?" She raised her eyes again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Life is serious," he said. "The greatest joy is -serious; the greatest happiness comes to the heart -when the heart is solemn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't think so. I cry when I'm serious."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is joy in a tear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not in mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not hear the front door open. For him -all the world had come in. He did not hear a step -at the door. Bodney came in. Florence left off -playing and turned about on the stool. Bradley -arose and shook hands with him, said that he was -glad to meet him, and lied. He would not at that -moment have been glad to see the glory promised -to the faithful. But he lied, as we all of us are -compelled to lie, for to lie at times is the necessary -martyrdom of the conscience. Bodney's face was -bright and his laugh was gay. "You are as merry -as a serenade," said Florence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As happy as a lark," he replied. The love-making -was spoiled. Bradley said that it was time to -take his leave. Bodney followed him to the door, -and beneath the hall light handed him a bank note, -apologizing for not having sooner returned the loan -of ten dollars.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you have given me twenty," said Bradley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have I? Then give the extra ten to the church."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="lying-on-the-sidewalk"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">LYING ON THE SIDEWALK.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Bradley lived in Aldine Square. By the light of -the first gas lamp he looked at his watch and found -that it wanted but three minutes to midnight. At -the corner of the street he waited for a cross-town -car, but as none was within sight, he walked on, -thinking little of the distance home, which was not -great, for his mind was on Agnes. He had not -decided that she would make a good wife, but he -knew that he would ask her to marry him. He -believed that his happiness depended upon her -decision. This is a conclusion reached by nearly -every man. His salary was not large, for his church -was poor, but it was growing rich in numbers and -that meant a popularity insuring larger pay. But -why should he consider his income? They could -live happily in Aldine Square. It was a charming -place, and so romantic that one would scarcely -expect to find it in Chicago. It might have been a -part of Paris. It was come upon suddenly, its gate, -with two great posts of stone, opening into the -street. There was a plastered wall, and it looked -as if it had been built for ages. Through the gate, -which was always left open, the view was -attractive—there were trees, shrubbery, flowers, a pool, a -fountain and a carriage drive. It would charm Agnes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The street was deserted, with the exception of a -straggler here and there, turned out of a saloon. -"Vice shutting its red eye," he mused, as one place -closed its door. Looking ahead he saw a man -leaning against a lamp post. As Bradley came up the -man, stepping out, said: "Mister, will you please -tell me what time it is?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley halted and took out his watch, and, holding -it so as to catch the light, was about to tell -him when the man snatched the watch, broke the -chain and fled down an alley. The preacher -shouted after him, ran a short distance down the -alley, but, realizing that pursuit was folly, if not -dangerous, returned to the street and continued his -way homeward, the piece of chain dangling from -his pocket. He thought of going to the nearest -station to report the robbery, but his mind flew -back to Agnes. How delicious it would be to have -her all to himself, sitting by the fountain in the -summer air. The perfume of the flowers would -be sweeter, the falling of the water more musical. -They would read together till the twilight came, -read silly books, if she preferred them; and in the -twilight they would read a book in which God had -written—the book of their own hearts. And in -cold weather they would sit in the warm light, at -the window, and look out upon the little park, the -shrubbery covered with snow, the statuary of -winter. He would never seek to change the -current of her mind. Nature had fashioned it a -laughing rivulet and it should never be a sighing wave. -With her in the congregation he could be more -eloquent, touch more hearts through his love for -her; he would be more akin to the young, for her -love would be as a stream of youth constantly -flowing into his life. Nature might have shown her -power in the creation of man, but surely her glory -in the creation of woman. He drew a contrast -between Florence and Agnes. Florence was stronger, -and had more dignity; but, of course, he believed -that Agnes was more affectionate, and love was -more beautiful than strength.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned into the street leading to the Aldine -gate. And how quiet everything was. It was a -love night, the leaves murmuring. But, what was -that lying on the sidewalk in front of the gate? A -woman. He stood looking down at her. Could -she have been murdered. The light was not strong, -but he could see that she was not ill dressed. She -was lying on her right side. He touched her -shoulder and she turned upon her back with a -moan. He leaned over her and caught the fumes -of liquor. But he got down upon his knees, raised -her head and spoke to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you doing here, poor girl?" he said. -The light falling upon her face showed that she -was young. She moaned and mumbled something. -He asked her where she lived, but she could not -tell him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what to do with you," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't leave me," she mumbled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will be back in a moment," he said, placing -her with her back against the wall. Then he ran -to the fountain, wet his handkerchief, and returning -with it dripping, bathed her face. It was hot and -feverish. The cold handkerchief appeared -somewhat to revive her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you know where you live?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't—don't know the number."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor the street?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again he bathed her face, and taking his hat -fanned her with it. "How did you come here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They must have left me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you were with someone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—three."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where had you been?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wine room. Don't turn me over to the police. -I won't go there again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can't you remember now where you live?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a long ways from here—over on the West -Side. I won't go there in this fix. I would rather die."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I don't know what to do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't turn me over to the police," she moaned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stood with his hat in his hand, looking up -and down the street. From the corner came the -whack of the policeman's club against a lamp post. -Not far away the fountain splashed its music. "Can -you walk?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll try. But where are you going to take me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To my home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," she cried piteously. "I don't want a -woman to see me this way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No woman is there to see you. Come on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He led her along, supporting her with his arm. -He did not look to see if there were any windows -lighted about the square; he did not think of -scandal; he thought of the poor thing heavy upon his -arm, not as a preacher, but as a man. He carried -her up the stone steps, unlocked the door and went -into the hall, into the red light falling from the -lamp. Up the stairs he led her, into a front room, -striking a match as he entered, lighted the gas and -eased her down upon a chair. She was deathly pale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me lie down," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pointed to the bed, stepped out into another -room and drew the portières. Then he lay down -upon a sofa, not to think of what he had done, but -of Agnes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was awakened by the housekeeper's tap upon -the door. "Come in," he called, and as she entered -he thought of the woman. The housekeeper was -fat and full of scandal. She walked straightway -to the portières and drew them aside to enter the -room, and started back with a gasp of surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My sister," said Bradley. "She came on a late -train, and is going out early. Don't disturb her. -She brought me bad news from home, and must -go on further to see my other brother. She could -not explain by telegraph. It involves the settling -of an estate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was now standing beside the housekeeper -and could see into the adjoining room. The girl, -with a remnant of modesty, had drawn the covering -over her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two days later, Sunday, at the close of services, -a woman came forward, held out her hand to -Bradley and said: "I want you to pray for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her face was pale and there was true repentance -in her eyes. "You are my sister," Bradley replied, -and this time he did not believe that he had told -a falsehood. She went out, with tears on her -cheeks; and a lady who had come up to -compliment the preacher on his sermon, asked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is that girl?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know her name."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She met me just as I was coming in," said the -lady, "and was anxious as to whether or not this was -your church. She was evidently not looking for -denominations."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was not. She was looking for something -nearer God—a man.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="made-his-proposition"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">MADE HIS PROPOSITION.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The farmers have a saying to illustrate -restlessness: "Like a hen on a hot griddle." And -Bodney thought of it the next day, as he sat about the -office waiting for the noon hour, for the game did -not start before then. He tried to read, but the -words were as the echo of a pot that had been -played. He attempted to write, but called it a -misdeal. How swift was life, viewed from the window, -and yet how slow time was, limping, halting, -standing still, boulders between minutes and mountains -between hours. Surely his watch was slow. No, -for a bell confirmed it in its record of the forenoon's -slothfulness. He thought of Goyle, and wondered -why he did not come to make his proposition, if it -were so important. He went out to walk in the -cool air blowing from the lake, and the Wexton -stairs arose before him. He rang the bell, and, -standing there waiting for the grim face of the -porter, reminded himself of an old horse at a stable -door. Inside they were cleaning up, sweeping, -dusting, getting ready for another day and another -night. From off in a bedroom came the snoring -of a man who had gone to sleep, drunk and broke; -but the porter would bid him a pleasant -good-morning and would give him a drink from a bottle -kept in ice all night. Bodney sat down at a window -and took up a newspaper and glanced at the report -of a committee appointed to investigate gambling -in Chicago. Numerous witnesses had been -summoned, some of them connected with the poker -clubs; and in a vague way they admitted under -oath that they might have seen men playing cards -for money, but could not recall exactly where. "I -am looking for a fool," said the Legislature. -"What do you want with him?" the Governor -asked. "I want to put him on an investigative -committee," the Legislature replied. "For the city?" -the Governor inquired. "Yes," answered the Legislature. -"Then," said the Governor, "take the first -countryman you come to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Men with borrowed money burning in their -pockets began to arrive, and each one was asked -by an earlier comer if he wanted to play poker, and -though he had shouldered his way through the -crowd to get there, fearing that he might not find -a vacant seat, he answered in a hesitating way, -"Well, I don't know; haven't got much time—might -play a little while." It was a part of the -hypocrisy of the game, recognized by all and -practiced by all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The noon meal was munched and the game began. -Opposite Bodney sat a man whose liquor -lapped over from the previous day. One eye was -smaller than the other, and on one cheek, red and -flaming, was a white scar. He drew to everything, -won from the start and was therefore offensive. -Bodney opened a pot on a pair of aces. All passed -but the man with the white scar, who said that he -would stay. "You are a pretty good fellow," he -remarked to Bodney. "I'll help you along." Bodney -drew three cards and caught his third ace. The -white scar drew two cards. Bodney, to lead him -on, bet a chip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said the scar, "I had a pair of sixes and -an ace here. I'll go down now and see if I helped, -and I won't bet you unless I have. Well, I'll have to -raise you three dollars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Raise you three," said Bodney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must have helped. Still, we never know. -Ain't that so, Jim?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jim said that it was so, and the scar, as if pleased -and reassured in thus finding his view confirmed, -raised Bodney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was wrong to take a drunken man's money; -it was robbery, but it was poker, and Bodney raised -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you play two pairs pretty hard, and I -don't believe you can beat three sixes. Raise -you." Then Bodney began to study. "I'll call you," he -said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I drew to three little diamonds," said the fellow, -"and caught a flush." He spread his hand. -Bodney swore. "I never played with a drunken man -that he didn't beat me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fellow looked up at him as he raked in the -pot. "Have to do it. My pew rent's due. Ain't -that right, Jim?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's right," said Jim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bad ran into worse and rounded up in a heap of -disaster. At three o'clock, just as the game was -getting good, as someone remarked, Bodney went -out, feeling in his pockets. This becomes a habit -with the poker fool. He continues to search -himself long after he has raked up the lint from the -bottom of his pockets. In the street the air was -stagnant and the sunshine was a mockery. At -several places he tried to borrow money, but failed; -his former accommodater, the druggist, told him -that he had a note to meet and could not spare it. -He was sorry, he said. Bodney went out, muttering -that he was a liar. He went to the office and -found the door locked. Howard was not there, and -he could hide himself, the peacock whose tail -feathers had been pulled out. But before going -into the office he thought of the old doctor across -the hall, and hesitated. Perhaps he had money, -and, having ruined his mind, might be fool enough -to lend it. The doctor was pleased to see him. He -was astonished to find Bodney so much interested -in his affairs, and he wondered if a spirit of -reformation had come upon the youth of the land. -Bodney said that of late he had begun to hear much -of the old man's skill as a physician. The old man -turned a whitish smile upon him and listened like -a gray rat, bristles resembling feelers sticking out -on his lip. And after a time Bodney asked if he -would be so kind as to lend ten dollars till the -following morning? He was sorry, but could not. -That part of the mind which takes account of money -is the last to suffer from disease.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney went into the office to wait for -something, he did not know what. He thought of -Bradley, and wondered if he could find him. Just then -he discovered the something he had been waiting -for. Goyle came in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Halloa, old man," said Goyle. "I went up to -the club just now to look for you and they told me -that you had gone down stairs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Down stairs broke," Bodney replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right," said Goyle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not all right. I'm broke, I tell you; and -a man that's broke is all wrong."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He may think so. I'm glad you are broke." He -put his hand on a table, leaned forward, and gazed -into Bodney's eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Glad," said Bodney, blinking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, glad. It teaches you the need of money. -You are forced to shove back your chair, to give -your place to a brute standing behind you. You -see the deal go on. You are frozen out, but no one -cares. That game is life, the affairs of man -epitomized; you put in your last chip, you lose, and -you have failed in business. A fellow who hasn't -one-tenth the education has succeeded. He stacks -up the chips that you have bought, and for consolation -he says that chips have no home. Am I right?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you are. But I want to get back into the -affairs of man. Let me have ten dollars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two weeks from now I can give you ten thousand. -Listen to me. Wait a moment." He closed -the door, came back, drew a chair in front of -Bodney, sat down and leaned forward. "Now, I will -submit my proposition."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know that I can entertain any proposition. -I am in too desperate a fix to go into any -sort of an enterprise. My blood is full of fever. -I've got this gambling mania on me and I'm -tempted to cut my throat. One evening you took -me to a supper that was not to cost anything. It -has cost everything, all the money I had, my honor, -my future, my—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's rot, George. I introduced you to a -supper that gave you experience—real knowledge of -the world. You have met men without their -dress-coats—you know man as he is and not as he says -he is. You were blind and I opened your eyes to -the fact that money is not the reward of the honest -and industrious. It is the agent of hell, and must -be won by means of the devil. You ought to have -been a rich man. If there'd been any foresight you -would have been. And whose fault was it that the -opportunity slipped? Not yours. Now to my -plan. Look at me. Child stealing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What!" Bodney exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have laid my wires. We will steal children -and gather in thousands of dollars in reward for -restoring them to their parents. Hold on. Look -at me. We will steal from the rich, for that is -always legitimate. We will have our agents stationed -here and there—we will—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Infamous scoundrel, I could cut your throat. -I wish to God I had."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down and listen to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't sit down. I will stand and look you -in the eye, you scoundrel. Don't put your hand on -me. Stand back, or I'll knock you down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Goyle sneered at him. "You can't hit me. I am -your master. Now, listen to me. I am going over -into Michigan to establish a—post, I'll call it. And -when I come back, you will join me. I present a -plan by which you can get out of all your difficulties, -and you turn on me. Is that the way to treat -a benefactor? I have settled upon our first -enterprise. Every day a nurse and child are at a certain -place in Lincoln Park. The father is dead and the -mother is rich. The child, I have found from the -nurse, is a boy. I am engaged to marry her. While -I am walking with her you steal—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney struck him in the mouth—struck him -with all the force of disgrace and despair. He fell -and the blood flowed from his mouth. He did not -get up; he lay with his head back, and Bodney -thought that he saw death in his half-closed eyes. -He touched him with his foot and spoke to him, -but he did not move. Someone knocked at the -door, and without a tremor Bodney opened it, -expecting to find Howard. The old doctor stood in -the hall. "I am sorry I refused to let you have the -money," he said. "And now, if you assure me -that—"</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 67%" id="figure-98"> -<span id="bodney-struck-him-in-the-mouth"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Bodney struck him in the mouth." src="images/img-218.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Bodney struck him in the mouth.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am obliged to you," Bodney broke in, "but I -do not need it. I wanted to gamble with it, but I -have quit gambling. I have overthrown the evil. -Here," he added, taking the old man's arm and -leading him into the room. "There it lies bleeding," -he said, pointing. "Perhaps it needs your -assistance. I must bid you good day." He walked -out, leaving the old man alone with Goyle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you smiling at?" asked an acquaintance -who met him in the street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was I smiling?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, like a four-time winner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am at least a one-time winner," Bodney -replied. He stepped into a drug store to get a cold -drink, his friend's place, he noticed after entering. -The druggist came forward and thus spoke to him: -"I was sorry after you went out that I didn't let -you have ten dollars. I found that I had more than -enough to meet the note. I can let you have it now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney shook his head. "No, I thank you—I -don't care for it. I have quit borrowing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you don't feel offended."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all. I am grateful to you for not lending -it to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Late in the evening he went back to the office. -No one was there, but soon the negro janitor came -in and pointed to a damp spot on the floor. "I have -washed up the blood where the man fainted and -fell," he said. "The doctor brought him to all -right, and there's a note on the table he left for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney opened the note and read: "I leave -for Michigan, and will be back within a few days. -I don't blame you as much as I do myself. I -permitted you to break away from me, but you will -come back and at last be thankful. Goyle."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-girl-again"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE GIRL AGAIN.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Bodney's "breaking away" from Goyle had taken -place on the day following the night when -Bradley had been robbed of his watch, and two days -before the girl appeared in church to ask for prayers. -On the Monday following, about noon, she appeared -again, this time at Bradley's lodgings. The -housekeeper answered her ring at the bell. "Ah," -she said, "come in. You are Mr. Bradley's sister, -I believe. I didn't see you but a moment, but I -think I recognize you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is Mr. Bradley here?" the girl asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, your brother has gone out. I think you -can find him over at Judge Elbridge's. I don't -know exactly where it is, but some place on Indiana -Avenue. Anyone can tell you. I hope you haven't -any more bad news for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl was shrewd and did not betray herself. -"No," she said, and went away. Bradley was in the -Judge's drawing room with Agnes when a servant -came in to tell him that a young woman at the door -wished to see him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, a young woman," cried Agnes, pretending -to pout. "Some girl you have been talking sweet -to, I warrant." He had risen to go out, but he -halted to lean over and say to her, "I have never -talked sweet, as you term it, to anyone—except—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This one," Agnes broke in. "Oh, go on. Don't -let me detain you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Probably someone connected with the church—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, they always are. Go on, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will tell you all about her when I come back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't mind me. Here's Florence. She -knows I don't care. Do please go on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley went out, and not with a light heart, for -his love had now entered into the stew and fretful -state. The girl stood in the hall, and in the dim -light he did not recognize her till she spoke. She -handed him a small package.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is this?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is yours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your watch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was some time before he could speak. All -ideas were as dust blown about his mind. "You -don't mean to say that—you couldn't have taken -it—you—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me go where I can talk to you—outside."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went out with her and together they walked -along the street. Looking back, he saw Agnes at -the window, and he waved his hand at her. She -made a face at him, he thought. "Now, what is it -you have to say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know a man named Goyle?" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I have met him at the Judge's house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He waited for her to proceed. "I was with him -and two others the night you found me. They left -me on the sidewalk because I could not go -further, I have been told. Goyle went away alone -and snatched your watch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, my gracious, how do you know? Did he -tell you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For some time he has been coming to see me. -He was the first man I ever went with to—a place -where I should not have gone. I blush to own it, -but I was fascinated by him. He asked me to -marry him, and I consented. The last time he came -after that night was yesterday evening. But you -had taught me to despise him. I could not drive -him away, however, so I sat in the room with him. -His mouth had been hurt—two of his teeth were -gone. He said he had fallen off a car. He said -also that as soon as he got a little better he was -going to Michigan. He took out his watch, one -that I had never seen him have before, and I -noticed that it had a broken chain. Then I -remembered seeing a broken chain hanging from your -pocket; and the next morning before I left your -house I thought I heard you tell someone that your -watch had been snatched from you. I asked him to -let me see the watch, and in it I found your name. -I did not return it to him—I jumped up and ran -out. He called after me, and tried to catch me, -but I slammed a door in his face and locked it. -Then, my mother, who never did like him, ordered -him out of the house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is your name?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Margaret Frayer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, Margaret Frayer, I am sorry you brought -me the watch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sorry?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did not wish a reward for what I had done for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that—the watch is not your reward. You -have saved a soul. In my heart I believe that I -have found peace. I went to sleep with a prayer -on my lips, and I awoke with such a joy in my -heart that I was frightened. I called mother and -she came running into the room, and there must -have been a spirit there, for before I said a word, -and before mother had seen me, for it was dark, -she cried out that I was saved. She had always -been worried over me; she feared that my soul was -lost. And she put her arms about me and sobbed -in her happiness. That is your reward, Mr. Bradley."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come back to the house with me," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He led her into the drawing room and -introduced her to Florence and Agnes. "I wish to -present a young woman whom God has smiled -upon," he said, and they looked at him in -astonishment. He told them that he had found her -wandering and had led her home. Florence took -her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I may not be worthy, yet," said Margaret -Frayer. "You don't know me well enough to take -my hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know that you must have suffered, and that -is enough," Florence replied. The preacher looked -at Agnes. He wondered why she did not come -oftener to his church. He wondered what she -would say to the young woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are my sister," said Agnes, as if inspired, -and Bradley clasped his hands and pressed them -to his bosom. His heart was full.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Margaret Frayer did not remain long. "You -may meet me again," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is to become a member of my church," -Bradley spoke up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My heart and my prayers will be with your -church, Mr. Bradley," she said; "I shall remember -you and be grateful to you as long as I live, but -my soul tells me to go with the Salvation Army, -among girls, and persuade them to work in the -street when they have the time. It is not goodness -alone that saves us, Mr. Bradley; goodness may be -selfish—it is saving others that saves us. You -know how that is. You have saved others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are right," he said. "Go with the army; -you can do more there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And, do you say so?" Florence cried. "I -thought you too orthodox for that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not too orthodox for the truth," he replied, -bowing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then," said Florence, "I think more of you -than I did. I thought it was your ambition to build -up a church, but I find that you have forgotten your -creed to save a woman. I am coming oftener to -hear you preach."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During this time Margaret Frayer stood near the -door, waiting, it seemed, for an opportunity to go. -The preacher looked at her, and mused upon the -change that had come over her face since he had -first seen her, only a short time, but a great change. -The Salvation Army has a countenance and a -complexion peculiarly its own, serene and pale; and -so quick, it seems, is the transformation that the -coarse-featured, evil-eyed woman of today may, -to-morrow, have a striking refinement. "I hope you -will come frequently to my church," said Bradley, -taking her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whenever I am selfish," she replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You young ladies have done yourselves credit," -said Bradley, when Margaret Frayer had taken her -leave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why so?" said Agnes. "Because we treated her -kindly? Did you take us for heathens?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, but women—women are so slow to forgive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forgive? Why, what has she done? She -simply wanted religion, and you have helped her. Oh, -she might have done wrong, I don't know. But -women are more forgiving now that they have -taken more of man's privileges. They may -become quite generous after a while." With Agnes it -was innocence; with Florence it was knowledge. -She divined the history of the girl; and in giving -her hand felt that it was to one who had gone -astray, who had suffered, and who had turned back. -The Judge came in, to the disappointment of the -preacher, who feared that, soon to be followed by -William, the old jurist would begin anew to stir up -the old straw of family humor. But William did -not come, and the Judge was in no mood for -joking. He had been brooding, and his brow was -dark. "Florence," he said, after exchanging a few -words with Bradley, "I wish you would walk out -with me." She said nothing, but went out and came -back with her hat. They walked in the shade of the -elms, and he remarked upon different objects, but -she said nothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why don't you talk, Florence?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I haven't anything to say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean that you have nothing to say to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean that it is useless to say anything to you. -Shall I say something? I will. You are an -unnatural father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I have an unnatural son."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is not true, Judge. Anyone to see him, to -hear him talk, to know him, would feel that he -could not commit such a crime. Why, sometimes -when I am alone it almost exasperates me to think -about it; and to realize that I am in a conspiracy -against him. It is cruel, and at times I fancy that -I am almost as unnatural as you are."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To be bound by an oath? Is that unnatural? -Is it unnatural to have honor? I told you in the -first place to protect you; I bound you by oath to -protect her, his mother. That is simple enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you don't know how near I have come to -the violation of that oath. More than once I have -had it in my heart to tell him—but I couldn't," she -broke off. "I couldn't. But he is going away, and -I will write it to him, every detail of it; and I know -that he will forgive me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You make me the criminal when I am the -injured. Let us go back."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-preacher-confesses"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE PREACHER CONFESSES.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Bradley had argued with himself that at the -proper time it would be simple enough to tell the -girl that he loved her, and no doubt he was right, -but the time did not come. He sat beside her on -the sofa, when the Judge and Florence had quitted -the room, and he looked into her eyes, and the -proper words arose like a graceful flight of birds, -rich in bright feathers, but they scattered and flew -away. He could have delivered an oration upon -beauty and love, and he did; but he feared to -surprise her by telling her that he loved her. He did -not dream that she had discovered it coming -before he felt it. It was not possible for so innocent -a creature to know so much. He was a large man, -and large men may have sentiment, but sometimes -they lack sentimental nerve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't believe now that I talked what you -termed sweet to that poor girl, do you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know. But I don't see why she -should look at you that way even if you did—did -lead her. It must have looked nice, you going -along leading her. What do you suppose people -thought?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No one—one saw me lead her," Bradley stammered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, then it was in the dark. Led her in the dark."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She didn't mean that I really took her by the -hand and led her. I led her spiritually."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that all? Where did you find her—spiritually?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Going—shall I say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, of course."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Going to the devil."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, and did she say so, or could you see for -yourself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could see. Agnes—Miss Agnes, if I were -not afraid of lowering myself in your esteem, I -would tell you something."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't tell me anything dreadful," she cried, -stopping her ears. "I know it must be something -awful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He waited for her to unstop her ears, which she -did very soon, and then he spoke, but on another -subject. She replied listlessly, leaning her head -on the back of the sofa. He told her about his -church and she yawned. He had been delighted to -see her in the congregation, and she yawned again. -"I thought you were going to tell me about that -woman," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you stopped your ears."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And don't you know that when a woman stops -her ears it's the time when she wants to hear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't know that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You didn't? Then you needn't tell me anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I believe I ought to tell you—only you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why only me?" she asked, her eyes half closed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, but—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, why did you say only me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I—I think more of you than of anyone else."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, if you think it's your duty you'd better tell me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He told her, and she sat up straight, looking at -him; she got up and walked slowly to the opposite -side of the room, he gazing at her. He reproached -himself for telling her. She was young, lived apart -from the great crowd, and could not understand. -He could not see her face, for she stood with her -back toward him, but displeasure has many -countenances, and he could see that his story had -offended her. Her head was slightly bowed, and she -was no doubt weeping; he heard her sob. Then -she had loved him, and her love was dying. But -he did not dare to go to her, to the death of the -love he had murdered. Suddenly she turned about. -Her face was radiant, and she was laughing. He -stared at her in amazement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is exactly what you ought to have done," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I am not lowered in your estimation?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For being a truer man than any man I have -ever known? Oh, no."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, she had turned round, laughing, but there -were tear stains on her checks. He did not know -that she had passed through a struggle of doubt -to reach laughter. Surely she was a strange -creature, worthy of being loved and capable of loving; -but he did not tell her that he loved her. The words -were warm in his heart, but felt cool upon his lips, -and he did not utter them. He talked in a round-about -way, in an emotional skirmish, he afterward -said to himself, and then took his leave, as the -Judge and Florence had returned. Just outside he -met Bodney coming in. "Oh, by the way, the very -man I want to see, Mr. Bodney. I want a talk with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney thought that the preacher was going to -thank him again for the money sent to the church, -to tell him how much good it had done. "I will -walk along with you," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is a peculiar world," remarked the preacher, -as they strode along, side by side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You might almost say a damnable world," Bodney replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not quite so bad as that." They walked on -in silence, Bodney wondering what the preacher -wanted to talk about, the preacher wondering how -he could best get at what he intended to say. "You -are well acquainted with Mr. Goyle," said Bradley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why do you speak of him? Why didn't you -say I am well acquainted with the devil?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose I might as well. Do you believe him -desperate?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In his milder moods, yes; at other times he -goes beyond that—he is inhuman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah. Do you believe that he would snatch a -man's watch?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He would snatch a woman's child. He is a -beast. But you have something to tell me. What -is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will, but as I do not wish to bring someone -else into the glare of scandal, you must keep it to -yourself. The other night, as I was going home, -a man standing under a lamppost asked me the -time. I took out my watch and he snatched it -and fled down an alley. I didn't notice his face, or -at least I could not see it very well, and I did not -recognize him, but I have recovered the watch and -have been told that it was Goyle who snatched it. -And you do not suppose that there is any question -as to his being bold enough to do such a thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Bradley, that man would do anything; he is -a footpad or a sorcerer, just as the humor takes -him. Now, I will tell you something. He made -himself my master, so completely that at times I -could not resist him. But the other day he made -me an infamous proposition and I struck him in -the mouth and knocked him senseless upon the -floor. Blood ran out of his mouth, and it was -black—black, I will swear. I left him lying there, and -when I returned he was gone, but he had written -a note to me, a note in which there was not a word -of reproach or resentment. He said he was going -away and would see me upon his return. That note -frightened me, and I have been scared ever since, -dreading to meet him, for I feel that he has some -sort of reserve power to throw over me. I would -go away, but the thought that he knows all my -movements is constantly haunting me. You may -smile at this and say that I ought to be stronger, -that it is superstition, and that we are not living -in a superstitious age, but I tell you that in his -presence I feel a weakness come over me to such -a degree that when I am with him I have only one -strength—a passion for gambling. I have let him -ruin me, soul and body; I—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will pray for you," said Bradley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You might as well pray for rain, and nothing -could be more foolish than that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, you doubt the spirit of God?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe in the spirit of the devil. But this is -jugglery. If he had left me a note full of resentment, -or had even left no word at all, I should have -felt that I had conquered him; but, as it is, I know -that I am his slave."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear young man," said the preacher, "you -ascribe to him supernatural powers; you have -permitted him to take you back into the middle ages. -Such a thing is absurd, in this great, progressive -city. See," he added, pointing at an electric car -rushing by. "There goes the nineteenth century, -and yonder," he broke off, waving his hand at a cart -shoved by an Italian, "is the sixteenth century. -You have let the Italian put you into his wretched -cart. Get out—get on the electric car."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your illustration is all right, Mr. Bradley; but -he has me in his cart bound hand and foot. But -we have both said enough, and what we have said -is not to be repeated to others. I'll turn back here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After knocking Goyle down, Bodney had fully -determined to make a confession to Howard and the -Judge, but upon finding the note his will resolved -itself into fear and indecision. He felt, however, -that the gambling germ was dead—"germ," he -muttered to himself. "Giant!" he cried aloud. It must -be, though, that he would gradually gain strength, -and the time for the confession was surely not far -off. But he would bring disgrace upon himself and -be driven out of the house. He could not bear the -thought of seeing hatred in the eye of the Judge. -The old man was unforgiving; had not forgiven -his son, and would surely send Bodney to the -penitentiary. "I can't tell him yet," he mused. "I -must wait for strength. That scoundrel is thinking -of me at this moment, and I know it." In the -night he awoke with a feeling that Goyle was in the -room, and he sprang out of bed and lighted the gas. -Thus it was for three nights, and on the third -morning came a letter from Goyle, not a letter, but an -envelope directed by his hand, and in it was a -newspaper cutting, set in the large type of the village -press. "Last night, at Col. Radley's, the guests -were entertained in a most novel, not to say -startling, manner, by Prof. Goyle, of Chicago, who gave -several feats of mind-reading. Miss Sarah -Mayhew, daughter of our leading merchant, stuck a -pin in the door-facing as high as she could reach, -while the Professor was out of the room, and then -hid the pin under the carpet. The Professor was -brought in blindfolded, amid the silence which the -Colonel had enjoined. He took Miss Mayhew by -the hand, fell into deep thought for a few moments -and then went straightway and took the pin from -under the carpet, and then, marvelous to relate, ran -across the room and leaping off the floor stuck the -pin in the exact hole which it had occupied at the -hands of the handsome Miss Mayhew. George -Halbin, one of our leading lawyers, said that the -feat would have seemed impossible to even a man -with both eyes open. The Professor will appear at -the opera house tomorrow night, and our citizens -who appreciate a good thing when they see it -should turn out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have you got there?" William asked, -standing in Bodney's door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just a clipping from a newspaper telling of -Goyle's wonderful mind-reading."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me see it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William read the paragraph and handed it back. -"I don't believe a word of it," he said. "Those -fellows will write anything if they are paid for it. -It's all a lie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's all true," said Bodney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, have you turned spiritualist? Is the whole -family going to pieces? Howard has ruined -himself with French books and John is so snappish that -no one can speak to him. Is that the sort of home -I've found? Give me that cigar sticking out of your -packet. You don't need it. Thank you. A man -who believes the stuff you do don't know whether -he's smoking or not. Is that John, roaring at -Howard? I want to tell you that there's something -wrong here. What do you keep holding that thing -for? Why, you shake like a sifter at a sawmill. -You are all going crazy."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="up-the-stairs-and-down-again"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">UP THE STAIRS AND DOWN AGAIN.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When Bodney went into the hall he found the -Judge walking up and down, waiting for -breakfast. His brow was troubled and dark, for -Howard had just announced his determination to leave -on the following day. He had acknowledged to -himself that there was nothing left to hope for, -and yet he had continued to hope that it all might -be, as Florence believed, a vision, a nightmare, to -be relieved by a sudden start. He knew that it -was unreasonable thus to hope, but hope was born -before reason, and will exist after reason has died -of old age. As Bodney approached the old man -stood with his hand pressed against his forehead. -Bodney's heart smote him, but his fear was stronger -than his remorse. The piece of paper, still in his -hand, seemed to burn his palm, as poker money had -burned in his pocket; and he felt that he was but -a pin hidden under a carpet and that Goyle could -find him and thrust him back into obedience. The -Judge noticed the grip with which he held the slip -of paper. "What have you there, George?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A—a—thing cut out of a newspaper." He -opened his hand and the Judge looked at the slip -of paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why did you grip it that way?" He took -the cutting, smoothed it out, and, putting on his -glasses, read it. "Ah," he said, handing it back, -"that fellow. I have seen him in my sleep—last -night. Tell him not to come here again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It has been some time since he was here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't apologize for him. Tell him that he must -not enter this house again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William came out and saw the Judge hand the -cutting to Bodney. "Is it possible, John, that you -believe in that nonsense, too?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't believe in anything," said the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's putting it rather strong," replied William. -"That is to say, that when I tell you I elected -Governors and Senators, you don't believe it." Bodney -passed on, leaving the brothers walking up and -down the hall, shoulder to shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did I say that I didn't believe you? What -difference does it make anyway?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What difference does any man's record make? -If a man isn't proud of his record, what should he -be proud of? You are proud of your decisions—they -go to make up your record. I elected Governors, and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why didn't you elect yourself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a nice way to come back at a man—your -own brother. Haven't you heard me say that there -is something higher than a desire for office? Hah, -haven't you heard me say that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, there is something higher—the roof of the -board of trade."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John, that is an unfair thrust at my speculations. -But, sir, at one time I could have closed out for -millions. Do you understand, for millions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why didn't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, just listen to that. Reproaches me for -not being a money grabber, for not joining the -robbers to crush the weaklings. I have suffered a -good deal at your hands lately, but I didn't expect -that stab. It wounds me here." He halted, and -placed his hand on his breast. But he went in to -breakfast and ate with the appetite of a man who, -if wounded, must have marvelously recovered; he -joked with Agnes about the preacher; he told her -that it would be her duty to take care of his -numerous slippers, presented by women. "And when you -have a pound party at your house I will contribute a—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Senator," said Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, so you have broken out, have you? I -thought you were too deep in the study of French -literature to pay any attention to such trifles. And -you have got on a reddish necktie. You'll be an -anarchist the first thing you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is going away, William," said Mrs. Elbridge, -and the Judge did not look up. The sadness -of her voice stirred William to repentance. -"Going away? I don't see how we can get along -without him. He and I joke, but we understand -each other, don't we, Howard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perfectly, Uncle William; and when I open my -ranch out West, you may look on it as your home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, my boy; but I don't care to go out -there again. I was once a power there, but the -country is now overrun with a lesser breed, and I -am afraid that I might not get along with them. I -want men, such as there used to be. Man will soon -be a thing of the past. The scorcher is running -over him—and I want to say right here, that if -one of those fellows ever runs over me, he'll get a -bullet just about the size of a—a—about the size of -that." He held up his thumb and measured off the -missile intended for the scorcher. "You hear what -I say. Why, confound 'em, if they see a man, a -real man, they bow their necks and make at him, -but if one of them ever runs into me, the coroner -will have a job."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard and Bodney went down town together -and opened the office, as usual, for clients who did -not come, and who, if they had come, would have -shaken their heads and gone away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard," said Bodney, "I told you that I was -financially ruined."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I remember, but afterward you said that -everything was all right, that your fit had passed. -Has it come again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It didn't go away. A sort of drunkenness made -it appear so. The fact is, I am in need of ten dollars, -to pay a man I owe. He keeps harassing me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I need every cent I've got, old man, but here's ten."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney took the bank note and went out. The -poker microbe was not so easily to be exterminated. -It had suggested to Bodney that the only way to -replace the money taken from the Judge's safe was -to play poker. And, why not play? He might -win—he had won once, and what the cards had -done they would do again. He remembered the -courtesies that had been shown him at the club, the -congratulation of the man at the desk when he -won and the sympathy when he lost. "Couldn't -make 'em stick, eh? When a man gets the hands -beaten you do, he's got to lose his money. There's -nothing to it. But you'll get 'em yet—you play as -good game as any of them." A man of sense could -see that it was a losing game from the start, no -matter how honestly conducted. And Bodney, -going to the club before business put on its -cheerful countenance, had seen them counting the -swallowings of the ever hungry box, the rake-off, the -unsatisfied maw. A fairly active game would -average for the house at least eight dollars an hour, -so that in the end every man must be a loser. He -knew all this as the others knew it, but the microbe -squirmed and made him itch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He walked toward the Wexton Club, not in a -rush, for he was still fighting. Speculation urged -him to play one more time, and to realize during -the game that it was the last. The hunger for -play was surely dying; then, why kill it? why not -let it die of its own accord? Then came the memory -of nights of distress, the nervous sweat of anxiety -in the street, scanning faces, looking for money. -He turned aside, went into a hotel and sat down. -Two men were talking of a defaulter. "Yes, sir," -said one of them, "everybody had confidence in -him—the firm trusted him implicitly; but he -embezzled and must go up for it." He mentioned the -embezzler's name, and Bodney recognized it as that -of a gentlemanly young fellow well known at the -Wexton. He had come under an assumed name, -but had thrown off this weak disguise, to indorse a -check. So the players, who gossip among -themselves, knew his real name, but addressed him as -Jones. Bodney continued to listen. "I understand," -said one of the men, "that the place where -he went is a regular robbers' den." Bodney knew -better than this; he knew that in the fairness, the -courtesy, the good nature of the place lay its -greatest danger. Men swore, it was true; cursed their -luck and called upon a neighbor to testify to the -fact that he had never seen such hands beaten; but -for the most part, the atmosphere was genial, the -talk bright and with a crispness rarely found in -society. He resented this misrepresentation, and was -even on the point of speaking when the men walked -off. Soon afterward he went out, though not in -the direction of the club; he circled round and -round, like a deer, charmed by a snake; but after -a time he saw the stairway, dusty and grim, rise -before him. In the hall above, just as he was about -to ring the bell, he thought of his short resources, -only one ten dollar note, and he took out the -crumpled paper and held it in his hand for a -moment and looked at it, not to find the ten dollars, -but the newspaper cutting. He started as if stung, -stepped back and stood with his hand resting on -the balustrade. The door opened and a man came -out. Bodney spoke to him, and he halted. It was -the offensive fellow with the white scar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you come out?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man opened both hands and raised them. -He was not drunk now. He was sober and -desperate. "They have ruined me," he said; "ruined -me, and I don't know what in the name of God to -do. I'll never play again as long as I live—I'd swear -it on all the bibles in the world. Are you going to -play?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was thinking about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could have quit big winner. Say, have you -got enough to stake me?" His eyes brightened, -but the light went out when Bodney shook his head. -"I've got just ten dollars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you won't last as long as a feather in hell." He -went down the stairs, and Bodney continued to -stand there, fighting against himself, with the -newspaper cutting still in his hand. Suddenly, with his -teeth set and both hands clenched, he ran down the -stairs. At the door opening out upon the street -he met the master of the game. "Won't you come -back and eat with us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I am in a hurry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The master of the game was astonished. The -idea of a poker player being in a hurry to get away -from the game was almost new to him—and it was -new to Bodney. But he hastened on, not daring to -look back lest he might find some new temptation -beckoning him to return. Passing beyond the -circle wherein the lodestone seemed to draw the -hardest, he felt, upon looking back, that he had escaped -and was beyond pursuit. It was now eleven o'clock, -and the victory must have been won at about ten -minutes to eleven. He had cause to remember this -afterward, on the following day, when he believed -that the cause of this sudden strength had been -revealed to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard was in the office when Bodney returned. -"Well, did you pay your persistent creditor?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was none. Here is your money; I don't -need it now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you will, so you'd better keep it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a fact, and I don't know how soon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you say there was none."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"None. I'll explain sometime, but I can't now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard did not pursue the subject further, for -his mind was on his own affairs. He had settled -upon taking his departure the next morning, and -now he looked about the old room with a feeling -of sadness. He had consulted another physician -who knew his father well, and had been informed -that the old man might improve rapidly in the -absence of his son. This made the young man wince, -but he had told the doctor that his father seemed -to have an especial antipathy to him. "It is one -of the freaks peculiar to diseased minds to turn upon -one who has been nearest," said the physician. -Howard had repeated this to his mother, and -frequently she remarked it as a discovery of her own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening when the young men went home -there was a great hub-hub in the hall. William had -just come in, covered with dust and was blowing -like a hippopotamus. "If I live, I'll kill him; mind -what I tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the trouble?" Howard asked. William -had been knocked down by a scorcher.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="told-him-good-bye"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">TOLD HIM GOOD-BYE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At the breakfast table the next morning the -Judge paid no attention to Howard, though he -knew that his departure was to take place that day. -He had striven to be genial when Mrs. Elbridge -was present, and for a time had succeeded, but all -effort was thrown off now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard went to his room to make ready, and his -mother went with him. The Judge was walking -up and down in his office as they passed his door. -Florence entered, and the Judge bowed to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you going to tell Howard good-bye?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's easy enough," he answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He will come in here to see you before he goes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know because it is not possible for him to -prove so unnatural as—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge raised his hand. "Don't say it, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stood looking at him. "Don't you think you -ought to tell him why you have hardened your -heart against him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall tell him nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And is that the part of a true man? Is it not -almost inhuman to let him suffer in ignorance?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge raised his hand and looked toward the -door. "I tell you, it is to protect her. Can't you -see?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is well enough to protect her, but you ought -to give him an opportunity to defend himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no defense. Mind, your oath."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I am sick of that," she said. "Every time -I say a word in his behalf you remind me of a foolish -vow. Judge, I am weary of this senseless and -insane drama, seeing the others stumble about in the -dark while you and I stand in the light. No, you -do not stand in the light, I alone am in the light -of truth; and if I did not think that the trip out -West would be good for him. I would not let him -go; I would stop him short with what you have -told me and made me swear by the memory of my -mother not to repeat. No wonder you put your -hand to your head. It must ache. But, there, I -won't reproach you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had sat down. She went to him and put her -hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and then -looked down again. "I believe something is going -to clear it all up one of these days," she said. He -got up and resumed his walk. Howard's voice -came down the hall: "Has the trunk gone yet?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think he is coming," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stay with me, Florence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, you must face him, the injured, alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not injured him; he has injured me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went out and the Judge stood there waiting -for Howard. He came in, more serious now that -everything had been made ready. "I am about to -start for the West, sir," he said. "I can't stand it -here any longer. You frown at me, and when I -beg you to tell me—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How long do you expect to be gone?" the Judge -interrupted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Till the day when I am to marry almost in -secret, or when you send for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge was walking up and down. He -turned and replied. "I shall not send for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you still deny us the right to be married -in a church?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall never marry her at all with my sanction, -and if you marry her without it, you marry -out West or in there," he added, waving toward the -drawing room. "There must be no guests."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to marry in my father's house, but -on the prairie or in the woods will do as well; it -makes no difference." He looked hard at his father, -and, after a time, added: "I didn't think that a man -could change so much—be so unnatural."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"None of that, sir!" the Judge exclaimed, turning -upon him. "It is not for you to call me unnatural."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father, if I have committed a crime in your eye, -why don't you tell me what it is?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In my eye! You must have studied long to -frame that speech."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why don't you tell me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't mock me, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard looked at him, as if trying to study -out something in his countenance, in his eye. "May -I ask you something?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why should you desire my permission since -you would pay no attention to my refusal? What -is it that you wish to ask?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I ask if there has ever been any insanity -in our family?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge started. "In our family—in my family -there has been something worse than insanity."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard slowly nodded his head as if admitting a -sad fact. "Yes, there has been the death of -affection—in your family."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," cried the Judge, "the shrouding of a hope."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The murder of a jovial spirit," said Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't shoot your poisonous arrows at me. Go -on, away. Good-bye." He waved his hand. Howard -turned toward the door, but halted, faced about -and looked at the Judge with troubled tenderness. -"Father, I don't know exactly where I am going, -but out in the wilds somewhere to find a place for -me and mine. I did not believe—couldn't have -foreseen such a moment as this. It seems to me -that my father is gone." He paused, and the Judge -stood with his face turned away. "Shall I write to you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said the Judge, without looking round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge came in and found them standing -apart, the Judge still with his back toward Howard. -"Howard," she said, "the cab is waiting. Judge, -Howard is going away from us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man turned slightly, looked at her, -nodded his head, said "yes," and walked to the -opposite side of the room. Mrs. Elbridge touched -her forehead. "You must bear with him," she -whispered. "You can see where the trouble lies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, and it is a sorrowful thought. I can hardly -believe it. And to think that he should select me -as the object of his contempt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He will get over it soon and send for you," she -said in a low voice. "A disordered mind turns -against the loved one—nearly always." Then, -advancing toward the old man, she said: "Judge, tell -him good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have," replied the old man, standing with his -face turned from her. She went to him and, -touching his arm, said: "But not in your old way—not -as you would have told him good-bye before—before -you were ill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not ill," he said, without turning his eyes -toward her. "I never was better in my life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, tell him good-bye, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I tell you I have!" he exclaimed, stamping upon -the floor; and turning with his hand uplifted, he -cried: "Can't you see—no, you cannot," he broke -off, his hand shaking, and slowly falling to his side. -"No, you cannot see, must not see. I beg your -pardon for speaking so impatiently, but I am -worried, Rachel; worried, and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I know," she said, taking the arm which he -had raised from under her gentle touch. "But, you -must tell him good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge struggled against her, though not -with violence; the struggle, indeed, was more -against himself. She led him toward Howard, who -stood looking on, sorrowfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Put your arm about him," she said to the Judge. -"For me, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For you," he said, and suffered her to put his -arm on Howard's shoulder. She raised his other -arm, and now he stood with both arms about the -boy's neck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, father," said Howard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment the old man's countenance was -aglow with the light of love and sympathy; -convulsively he pressed Howard to his bosom—but a -horror seemed to seize him, the light of sympathy -went out as if blown by a cold wind, and, stepping -back, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There. Go. Not another word. Why do you -continue to stand there gazing at me? Rachel, -can't you take him away? I have told him -good-bye to please you—now, why don't you oblige me -by taking him away?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, dear, have you no word for him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Word, yes. Good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No word of advice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Advice! Don't mock me. Go away, please. -Can't you see—no, you cannot, and why should I -expect it? Now go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are going," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but—I beg your pardon—but why don't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took Howard's arm and walked out, looking -back as if she hoped that the Judge might repent -and follow, but he did not; he resumed his walk -up and down the room. Suddenly he turned. -"Now, what are you doing, William?" The brother -had entered and was turning over papers on the desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am looking for a slip of paper I dropped out -of my pocket-book."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You didn't leave anything here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That may be," said William, "but I don't know -whether I did or not till I find out. A man never -knows—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Some men never know," the Judge broke in, -going over to the desk and taking a paper out of -William's hand. "Go away, please." William -stepped back, shocking himself from the storage -battery of his dignity. "Oh, I can go, if that's what -you want."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what I want."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is? All right. John, I'll be hanged if I know -what's the matter with you." The Judge was paying -no attention. He was listening to a cab driving -off from the door. "I say, sir, I'll be hanged if I -know what's the matter with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I heard what you said."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know whether you did or not. There's -no living in the house with you. And last night, -after I had been knocked down in the street—and -I'm going to kill him if detectives can find him—last -night when I merely intimated that something had -taken place on the fourteenth of September, you—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"William, are you going to begin all that over again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what you mean by again. John, -you talk in riddles. I can't for the life of me get -at your meaning. Yes, sir, and last night you flew -off like a jug handle when I told you that Carl -Miller—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, damn Carl Miller."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right. I don't care how much you -damn him. He deserves it—broke a pair of boots -for me and made 'em so kidney footed that I -couldn't walk in 'em. But I am positive about that -other date, John. It was the tenth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge looked at him, drew a long breath, -and said: "William, you are an old fool."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An old fool, John—old? Did you say old?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is what I said. Old."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William sighed. "Then, that settles it. It isn't -so bad to be simply a fool—for we may grow out -of that as time goes on—but to be an old fool—John, -I'll leave your house. I can't stand your -abuse any longer. I am without means, broke, you -might say, and I don't know which way to turn, -except to turn my back on your ill-treatment of me. -I may starve to death or be killed in the street or -on some freight car, stealing a ride from misery to -misery, but I am going."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"William, sit down and behave yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never again will I sit down in your house. I -have joked with you, I know, and have said a great -many things that I didn't mean, but I am in deadly -earnest this time. I am going away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge put his hand on William's shoulder. -"Look at me," he said. "Don't leave me. I need -you. I am mean, and I know it, but I beg of you -not to leave me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mean!" William cried. "Who the deuce said -you were mean? Show the villain to me. Show -him to me, I tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, now, sit down; it is all right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir, it is not all right, and it never will be -till I find the scoundrel that called you mean. Was -it Bradley? Tell me, and I'll choke him till his -eyes pop out. Was it Bradley?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge smiled. "Bradley," said he, "is one of -my props. He is the son of my old friend, and I -think the world of him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, let him congratulate himself on his escape, -for before the Lord I would choke him. It is all -right, yes, sir—but, really, John, if I tell you -earnestly it was on the tenth won't you believe—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes; let it be the tenth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let it be! Why, confound it, I tell you it was -the tenth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right. When you go out I wish you would -tell Florence to come here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William grunted. "Oh, I can go out. By the -way, John, Howard asked me a pertinent question -this morning. And it staggered me a little. He -wanted to know whether there had ever been any -insanity in our family."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge showed signs of coming agitation, but -he fought with himself as it was his custom to fight. -"What did you tell him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I lied, I told him no. John, do you remember -the night when they came from the mad-house and -told us children that father was dead?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, William; don't. Please tell Florence to -come here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William went out and the Judge resumed his -walk up and down the pathway of trouble. Yes, -he did remember the night when they came from -the mad-house, two men in a doctor's gig; he -remembered the lamps on each side of the vehicle, -eyes of a great bug, they seemed. But his father's -malady had not come of inheritance, but of fever. -But other men had fever and did not go mad. -Could it be that he himself had been touched with -the disease—touched in the eye with a vision? No, -for there was Bodney. He had seen it. "My mind is -sound, even in distress," he mused. "But wouldn't -it have been better if I had talked to him kindly -about his crime? I ought to have let him know -that I saw him. No, his mother would have drawn -it out of him—love sucking poison from a wound."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Florence entered the room, advanced a few paces, -halted, and stood, looking at him. "Well, you sent -for me and I am here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sit down, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I thank you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge looked at her sorrowfully. "Did -Howard tell you where he intends to go?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Florence looked at him with a smile, but in the -smile he saw bitterness. "Does it concern you?" -she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not a brute, Florence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," she said. "A brute is not unnatural."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, please. I am trying not to be unnatural. -There can be a broken heart shielding a heart to -keep it from breaking."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were a judge, a man of justice. And was -it just to let him suffer in the dark? Was it right -to lock your own lips and put a seal on mine. -Judge, I ought to have told him in your presence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't say that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I do say it. You presume upon what you -are pleased to think is my strength of character. -I am beginning to believe that I was weak instead -of strong. Yes, I ought to have told him in your -presence. I ought to have said: 'Your father, who -has been a judge, has passed sentence upon you -without giving you a hearing. He says you are a -thief.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush," said the Judge, in a loud whisper, -motioning toward the door. "Don't talk that way to -me. Ah, I have killed all the love you ever had for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have choked it and it is gasping."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am grieved—but it cannot be undone—the -fingers are stiffened about your gasping love." He -walked up and down for a time, and then turned -again to her. "When you get a letter from him will -you let me read it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. His heart will write to mine, and your eye -would blur the words."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't say that. I am not without a heart. I -had a heart—it is broken." He walked off again, -but turned quickly. "Florence, I sometimes wonder -if my eye could have deceived me—could have lied -to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She moved toward him, her hands uplifted, hope -in her face. "A man's mind lies to him, and why -not his eyes?" the Judge continued. Florence -caught him by the arm and looked appealingly at -him. "But your brother, Florence—your brother. -He saw him, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What!" she cried, stepping back. "Brother saw -him! You didn't tell me that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I promised him I would not tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, you break your promises and expect me -to keep mine. I will go this moment and tell his -mother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He caught her arm and poured out a distressful -imploration, a prayer. "I would rather you'd stab -me," he said, concluding. "I would rather you'd -kill us both. But I didn't swear, Florence. You -have taken an oath."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Judge, that is cowardly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it is. I am a coward—but only for her. A -bitter word, Florence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, forgive me. I didn't mean that. You are -not a coward, but you are blind." He held forth -his hands. She stepped back, shaking her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All gone," said he, "all respect, all confidence. -And you were my daughter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In love and in duty," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In both," she replied. "In both, yes, and now -love is gasping and duty has become a hard -master." Suddenly she sprang toward him. "Brother saw -him! I am just beginning to realize what you -said. I don't believe it. His eyes lied, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, beautiful faith, it would move a mountain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would pluck a mote from an eye. May I go now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not on the bench to discharge or restrain -you. But, just a moment. You feel that I am a -tyrant. That could not have been possible with -your former self. What is so cold as frozen gentleness? -And now it is only through the frost-crusted -windows that I can catch a glimpse of your other -spirit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the hall, yesterday," she said, "I thought that -I heard a lurking echo of your old laughter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He made a gesture of distress. "Don't remind -me of it," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I go?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. But let me ask you one more favor. Don't -tell your brother that I mentioned him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Another chain," she said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-light-breaks"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE LIGHT BREAKS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Judge turned and saw Bradley in the door. -His appearance at any moment was not in the -nature of a surprise. Agnes said that she expected -him at most unexpected times. He no doubt -regarded himself as a brave man, and perhaps he was; -it required courage to be so timidly persistent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope I don't intrude," said the preacher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, not at all. Come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Agnes is out for a walk, I understand," -said Bradley, sitting down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge stood looking at him absent-mindedly. -"Ah, yes, I suppose so. But I don't know why I -suppose so. The truth is, I don't know anything -about it. I beg your pardon, Bradley. I am—am -greatly disturbed. The fact is, I hardly know what I -am about. I am a mystery unto myself. I was just -thinking of it as you came in. It does not seem -possible for a man, with a mountain of sorrow upon -his heart, to turn squarely about and speculate upon -trivial things—to jest, if I may say so, and I must -for it is a fact. I am glad you came."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am always delighted to come, Judge. Here -I find the shade of a palm tree in a great desert of -trade. And I came in the hope of finding you -better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Better!" The Judge looked at him almost -sternly. "Better, why I am not sick. What put -that into your head, Bradley?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I understood from what you have said -that your health was not of the best."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it is of the best, I assure you. But I brood, -yes, I brood, and that is worse than ill-health—it -is the ill health of the mind, the soul."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid you work too hard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Um, work, I hardly know what that is. I am -trying to rest, but it is like a man seeking sleep on a -bed of thorns. Work is all right, for we can put -it aside, but worry rides us till we are down, and -then sits on our breast, waiting for us to get up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William came in, shying a little upon seeing -Bradley, but shook hands with him. "I am glad -to see you looking so well, Mr. William," said the -preacher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'm a pine knot. Ain't I, John?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge looked at him inquiringly. "What -did you say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I said I was a pine knot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did I? Didn't I just say I did?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you did, you did. That's all. But who -accused you of not being a pine knot?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley chuckled, and William frowned at him; -then, addressing himself to the Judge, the old fellow -said: "You did. You disputed it. You call me a -liar every time I open my mouth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"William, you have often declared that you are -not in the plot, but the first thing you know you -may break into it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I won't!" William exclaimed, shaking his -finger. "And I won't break into your intellectual -atmosphere, either." He turned to Bradley. -"Why, sir, John is a regular professor, browbeating -his class. He expects everybody to talk book. -I say, damn a book. I beg your pardon. It is the -first time I ever said that in the presence of a -preacher."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley laughed. "It's all right, Mr. William, if -you feel that way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it? Then, I say, damn a book. What I want -is action."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I subscribe to your doctrine concerning much -of our literary output," said the preacher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William was so delighted at this that he seized -the preacher's hand and shook it with more of vigor -than he was wont to put forth. "Good for you, -Bradley. I am half inclined to come to hear you -preach."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A twinkle in the Judge's eye showed that again -he was playing in the midst of his sorrow. "You'd -never get there, William. You could never settle -on the date."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you be confound, John. I have settled on -more dates than you ever saw." He arose, went -to the table and took up a pair of long shears. "Let -me take these to my room, will you? I want to -clip out something for my scrap-book."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I thought you damned a book. No, sir, -put those shears right down where you found them. -You took my mucilage off yesterday and I had to -go after it—down where you found them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>William put down the shears and looked angrily -at the Judge. "Oh, I can put them down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I have a cigar, John?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Help yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Much obliged." He went to the desk, took up -a box of cigars and walked out unnoticed by the -Judge, who had turned his back, following a strand -of his sorrow, intertwined with a strand of humor, -the two phases of himself which he could not -comprehend. He walked slowly to the wall, and, -turning, remarked, as he walked toward the preacher, -"Bradley, I feel as one waiting for something—some -shadow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not a shadow," Agnes cried, skipping into -the room. Bradley arose with a bow. "No, for -shadows may be dark," he replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you hear that, Mr. Judge? Did you hear -him say that shadows may be dark? Of course, for -if they were bright they wouldn't be shadows. May -I sit here?" She sat on a corner of the long baize -table swinging her feet, as if the music in her soul -impelled her to dance, Bradley mused. "Why do -you people stick in here all the time?" she went -on. "Oh, I see," she added, lifting her hand with -a piece of paper adhering to it. "You glue -yourselves in here." She plucked off the paper, took -out a handkerchief, a dainty bit of lace, and wiped -her hand. "Have you just got here, Mr. Bradley? -What's the news? Who's murdered on the West -Side? They have murdered somebody every day -since I came, first one side and then the other, and -it's the West Side's turn today. Anybody killed -today?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," Bradley replied, "but I hear that -a prominent citizen was sand-bagged last -night—in front of a church."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, for pity sake. And had he came out of a -church fair? Did the robber get any money?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bradley," said the Judge, "as William would -say, she is putting it on you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley smiled, and said that it seemed so. -Bodney stepped into the room, halted as if confused, -and as Bradley got up to shake hands with him, -hurriedly went out. Agnes spoke in an undertone -to the preacher. "Mr. Bodney is worried, too. -And it makes me awfully sorry to see the Judge so -distressed at times. Can't you do something for him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can simply advise him not to worry, that's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beg him not to be so sad. I don't see how he -can be. Everything is so bright."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge went to the desk to get a cigar. "That -rascal has taken every one of my cigars. Now, I've -got to find him to recover my property." He went -out, and they heard him calling William.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They have to watch Mr. William all the time," -said Agnes. "He carries off everything he can -get his hands on. They say his room looks like -a junk shop."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley nodded in acknowledgment, and after -a short silence, full of meditation, he said: "You -seem still to enjoy your visit. And I hope you are -not thinking of going home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, ha, I am having a lovely time. Isn't it a -nice place to visit. They make you feel so much -at home, snap at each other if they want to, just as -if you weren't here. That's the way for people to -do; make you feel at home. But they are just -as good as they can be, and their little spats are -so full of fun to me, only it makes me sad to see -the Judge worry. Yes, I am having a lovely time. -I went to the vaudeville yesterday, and tomorrow -I am going to your church."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you are?" Bradley laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, ha. Oh, do you know what I heard about -you? I heard you were seen walking along the -street with a drunken man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, a friend of mine. And if a preacher -shouldn't support a staggering brother, who -should?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, how human. I like you for that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And for that alone?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, I like you for that and for a good many -other things. I think I could have lots of fun with -you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fun with me?" The preacher was thinking of a -summer evening in Aldine Square, the music of -the fountain, the sweetness of the flowers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, ha. There's something about you that -makes me feel like a little girl. And I dreamed that -you took me by the hand and led me along."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Agnes, let me lead you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She slid off the corner of the table and stood with -her hands flat together, like a delighted child, but -suddenly she looked up with seriousness in her eyes. -"But now you make me feel like a woman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge came in. Bradley spoke almost in -a whisper. "But a woman might be led by a man." And -then to the Judge he remarked, striving to -hide his annoyance at the interruption: "I see you -have recovered your property."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge sat down on a chair near the table. -"Yes, some of it. William is a good grabber, but -he gives up after an argument, and there is some -virtue in that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What was in the paper that worried Mr. Bodney -so?" Agnes asked, speaking to the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know. Has anything worried him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I saw him grabbing the paper as if he -would tear it to pieces."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ball game, probably," said the Judge, and then -looking at Agnes he added: "Nothing seems to -bother you, little one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir. I won't let it. When I am worried -something jumps this way," she said, making an -upward motion with her hands, indicating the -sudden rise of spirits, "and the bother is gone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge spoke to Bradley. "The heart of -youth jumps up and says boo to a trouble and -frightens it away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," replied Bradley, "and couldn't an older -heart learn to boo a trouble away?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge shook his head. "The old heart -crouches, but cannot jump."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Make it jump," Agnes cried. "Let me hear you -laugh as you used to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The saints laugh with an old man," said Bradley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't," the Judge interposed, with a slow gesture. -"Your roses are pretty, but you bring them -to a funeral. No, I don't mean that. I mean that -I am simply worried over a little matter, but I am -getting better and will be all right pretty soon. I -shall be my old self in a very short time." Bodney -entered, and stood looking fixedly at the Judge. -"What is it, George?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney nodded to Bradley and Agnes. "I beg -your pardon, but I must see the Judge alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bradley asked Agnes if she would accept of -banishment with him. "Yes," she said. "Come on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not necessary," the Judge spoke up. "We -can—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon," Bodney broke in, "but it -is necessary."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course it is," Agnes declared. "As Mr. William -would say, we are not in the plot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Bodney, bowing to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they were going out, the Judge called to the -preacher. "Don't go away without seeing me -again, Bradley. I want you to spend the day with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney leaned against the table, stepped off, -came back, and stood looking down upon the -Judge. The old man glanced up. "Well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was some time before Bodney could speak. His -words seemed dry in his mouth. At last he began: -"I carried half of a heavy load. Something has -thrown the other half on me, and I can't stand -up under it—dispatch—railroad wreck—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge jumped out of his chair. "What!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney continued. "Yes. Goyle is dead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Goyle. I was afraid—where?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In Michigan, at fifteen minutes to eleven, yesterday. -I have cause to note the time. The load—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, go ahead. But let me tell you now, -George, you have no cause to regret the broken -association. I deplore the man's death, of course, -but I begun to feel that his influence upon you -was bad. I had begun to dream about him, and -to fear that he had a strange influence upon me. -But go ahead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Half of it was crushing me, and I can't stand it -all. I—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, what's the matter? What are you trying -to tell. Go ahead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Judge, Goyle robbed the safe—Goyle and I—wait—I -gave him the combination—he made up for -Howard—I—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge seized the shears and raised them high -above his head, his eyes fixed on Bodney's breast. -Bodney did not flinch. The old man raised his eyes, -to meet a steady gaze; and he stood with the -shears high in his hand. He had uttered no outcry, -no sound came from him, no sound that could -have been heard beyond the door—only a low -groan, like the moan of a fever-stricken man, -turning over in his sleep.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-99"> -<span id="the-judge-seized-the-shears-and-raised-them-high-above-his-head"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="The Judge seized the shears and raised them high above his head." src="images/img-266.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">The Judge seized the shears and raised them high above his head.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kill me, Judge, I deserve it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The shears fell from the old man's hand, and he -dropped upon the chair, his arms upon the table -and his face upon them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish you had struck me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a slight motion of the hand the Judge waved -him off. Bodney continued: "For your heart -there is a cure. There is none for mine. I was a -fool, I was caught, I gambled, I couldn't quit, that -snake held me, charmed me, hypnotized me. I -knocked him down and he bled black on the floor, -and I left him lying there, but I could not break -loose from him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge waved him off. "Don't tempt me to -look upon your face again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bodney did not move. "The old laugh that -they have spoken so much about may return; old -confidences and an old love will be restored, but -there must be a wanderer that can never come back, -a fool whom nature made weak. But I feel that if -you would give me your hand—I am not deserving -of it—but I feel that if I could once more touch -that honorable hand, I could go forth an honest -man. I would try."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge slowly raised his head. Tears were -in his eyes. He held forth his hand. Bodney -grasped it, and—was gone.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="sent-a-message"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">SENT A MESSAGE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>William went to the office door and found it -locked. This was so singular a happening that the -old fellow stalked about the house, marveling over -it and complaining against an innovation that shut -a man out of an apartment that had served so long -as a sort of public domain. It was like the closing -of a park or a county road. Everyone laughed -at him and he snorted. In the vocabulary of -William's contempt, the snort was the strongest -expression. "It is all right to laugh," said he, "but -I want to tell you that there has got to be a change -here." He returned to the office door and knocked -upon it, but his knuckles aroused no heed within. -He could hear the Judge walking up and down. -Bodney had been gone nearly half an hour. But -the Judge had not noted the time. To him, life -was but a conflicting, mental eternity, and he was -in the whirling midst of it. For a long time he sat -with his head on the table, one arm stretched out -before him, the other hanging limp; then he -staggered about the room, and then sat down with his -head in his hands. To the eye turned inward all -was black, till gradually a light appeared, seeming -softly to shine upon a hideous shape, crouching -in a dark corner. He gazed upon it, and it spoke, -shrinking further back from the soft light. "I am -your injustice," it said. He got up, raised a -window, and stood looking out upon the sunlight in -the street. But he shivered as if with cold, and -his lips moved as if he were talking and swallowing -his words down into deep silence. A gladness -began to form in his heart. His son was innocent, -but in that innocence there was a reproach. He -had been unnatural as a father, and might he not -many a time have been unjust as a judge? He -acknowledged to himself that he must have decided -in favor of error while on the bench. His retirement -was a sort of unconscious justice. He realized -that his mind had not been sound. He had -felt a coming weakness. But now he felt a -coming strength. The trial through which he had -passed must have served as a test. It was to restore -or ruin his mental life. But why should there have -been such a test, and why should the innocent have -suffered? It would not do to reason, and he -banished the test idea, fighting it off. Still, he -acknowledged that his mind had sickened and that -now it was gaining strength. He remembered his -frivolity and loathed it, his jokes with William at -a time when his heart was heavy and swollen. -"Unnatural as a father and inconsistent as a man," -he muttered. "But who is to judge of man's -naturalness? One kink in the mind and the entire -world is changed." William knocked again, and -now the Judge opened the door. The old fellow -looked at his brother and exclaimed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, what has happened, John?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, except that I have been really ill. But -I am almost recovered. My mind has passed -through a sort of crisis, William. I can now look -back and see that I was not right. My present -strength tells me of my former weakness. I am -soon to be entirely well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I am glad to hear that. It is particularly -gratifying to me. And I suppose that you are, or, -at least, soon will be, willing to concede that I am -sometimes correct with regards to my dates."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but we won't mention that. It is of no -importance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What! No importance? Take care, John, -you'll get back where you were, for when a man -says that a date is of no importance, he's in danger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"William, I want you to do me a favor. I am -almost afraid to trust myself to go out just now. -Wait a moment." He went to his desk, found a -telegraph blank, and upon it wrote the following -message: "The light has broken. Come back at -once." William read the words and looked at him. -"Go to the station," said the Judge, "and send this -to Howard, in care of the conductor. It is not a -secret, mind you, but don't stay to show it. They -would delay you with puzzling over it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, I'll jump into a cab and go right over. -I know the station. It's only a few blocks from -here. He didn't go all the way down town. I heard -him tell his mother. By the way," William added, -"I found one of Howard's French books—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Put it back where you found it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, you haven't flopped, have you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what you mean."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, you said that French literature was the—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the civilizing force of the modern world. -Go on, please. Just a moment. Tell Florence that -I wish to see her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Florence came in her face was radiant. -William had spread the news of Howard's recall. -"Ah," said the Judge, "you know that I have sent -for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, father," she replied, going up to him with -outstretched hands. He took her in his arms and -kissed her. "What has happened?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The atmosphere is cleared, my dear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, what cleared it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The truth. You were right. I saw a vision."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him. "But what was it that -brother saw?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," said the old man, shaking his head, "you -are shrewd. You are not willing to let it pass. -Florence, we both saw Goyle disguised with his -devilish art as Howard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She gazed at him. "Is that all?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All? Is not that enough for us to know, my child?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, why did brother happen to lead you into -the office just at that time?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, I have told enough, and what I have -told you must not repeat. If there is anything to -come, Howard may tell you, but my wife must -never know that I have been so weak and -unnatural a father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But she can see that something must have -occurred to change your bearing toward Howard. -Mr. William has told her that you have sent for -him, and she is in her room with tears of joy in -her eyes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Florence, I am striving to be calm, the master -of myself. I don't deserve to be happy—not yet. -How could I have been so blind? And how at times -could I have indulged in levity with such a sorrow -upon my heart?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was the truth, father, striving to break -through."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He nodded his head. "Yes, and now we must -tell her something. Ah, tell her that a man came -and brought me word that my brother is not dead. -Keep her from coming to me with any sort of -demonstration. I can't stand it. I must recall my -old self and become gradually accustomed to it. -I must realize that it was all a dream and that it -is passing away. Tomorrow, with Howard, we -may make a joke of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will never be a joke with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, my child, I did not mean that. It was a -nightmare—a breath-shape breathed upon us by -the devil while we slept. But we are awake now, -and God's sun shines. Go to her and tell her that -my brother is not dead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will. But, father, do you realize how resourceful -you have made me—how replete with falsehood? -And must I not go into the closet and pray -for forgiveness?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was done for love, my dear; and love, which -is the soul of all up yonder, has forgiven already."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Florence and Mrs. Elbridge entered the drawing -room. "Who brought that news that his brother -was not dead?" Mrs. Elbridge asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A man. He was in a great hurry to catch a -train and could not stop long. He brought direct -word from Mr. Henry himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then there can be no doubt about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. And I did not believe it in the first place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is in there with him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think Agnes and the preacher have just gone in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is a happy day," said Mrs. Elbridge, looking -toward the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A day when falsehood may be told, but when -truth is revealed," Florence replied. "It is one of -God's days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All days are His, my dear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Florence slowly shook her head. "No, not all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge came in. He put his arms about -Mrs. Elbridge. "Rachel," he said, "you shall never see -my face gloomy again. I will go laughing down -into green old age, into the very moss of time." He -motioned toward the office. "In there is a beautiful -picture of sweet distress."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge looked upon him with a trembling -lip. "But, my dear, it is not more beautiful than -the fact that you sent for your son and that you -yourself have come back to us all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge smiled. Florence could see that he -was growing stronger, that his mind was clearing. -"He returns like a lost child suddenly finding the -path home," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faith has its wisdom and its reward," replied -the Judge, looking at her. "In the days of the New -Testament, you would have been one of the -followers. You would have wiped His feet with your -hair." And, looking at his watch, he added: "I -wonder why William doesn't come back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not time," Mrs. Elbridge replied, glancing -at the clock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The minutes are hours, but clearing and -strengthening hours," said the Judge. He turned -about and began to walk up and down the room, -with all the simpleness of his nature in his face. He -did not look like a man who had sat in judgment -upon the actions of men. His heart had cried for -pardon, and a belief that it had come lighted his -countenance. A man who has been shrewd in the -affairs of the world, sharp in practice, suspicious, -sometimes becomes simple and trustful in the love -of a grandchild. And at this time, the Judge might -have reminded one of such a man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge stood in the door looking down -the hall. The Judge halted to speak to Florence. -"Forgiveness," said he, "is the essence of all that -is noble in life. And do you forgive me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she said. "And I hope that I shall be -forgiven all the falsehoods I have been forced to tell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They were for her, Florence, and there is a -virtue in an untruth that shields a heart." He moved -closer to her and added: "I wonder at your -strength and marvel at my weakness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were groping in the dark. It was not your -fault, but your nature."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you are my daughter again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Florence, "in love and in duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge went out. The Judge and Florence -sat down to wait for William. He was a sort -of way-station which must be reached before they -could arrive at Howard. The Judge told her of -the darkness through which he had passed, throwing -new light upon it, as if she had not seen it, as -she stood by, holding a torch. He spoke of Goyle, -of his strange power; he told her of the newspaper -cutting that gave account of his mind-reading, and -finally he told her of Bodney's confession. She -was prepared, and showed no agitation. But there -was grief on her face. Then he told her that he -could not find it in his heart to condemn him. "In -your own words, Florence, it was not his fault, but -his nature. I will take him back, and not even -Howard must know of his part in—in my darkness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard ought to know everything," she said. -"But not now, my dear; by degrees, as he shall -be able to bear it. He is generous, and I believe -he will forgive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Elbridge returned and stood in the door. -"Here comes William," she said. The Judge arose. -William came in puffing. "We were looking for -you," said Mrs. Elbridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, now," replied the old fellow, "you don't -have to look long for me, I'll tell you that. I made -the driver whip his horses all the way there and back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And are you sure that your message caught -the train?" said the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I always fetch 'em whenever I go after 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you sure you sent it all right?" the Judge asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John, I thought you'd get well. But, sir, you -exhibit the most alarming sign of sickness I have -ever seen in you. Sure I sent it all right! What -other way do I ever do a thing? Of course I sent -it all right. The train wasn't far out, and there's -one back every few minutes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems that he has been gone a year instead -of two hours," said the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Florence smiled at him. "And are we to be -married in secret?" she asked, speaking low.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear, that shall be as you please. I have -only one wish—that it shall be one of the happiest -days of my life, and I believe that it will be."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What day of the month is this?" William asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The fifth," the Judge answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you sure?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure it is not the tenth of June, sixty-three," -said the Judge, and was in deep regret at his -levity at such a time, when his wife spoke up, -"Judge, please don't get him started."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Started!" William snorted. "Now—now, that's -good. A man races all the way to the station and -back, and they talk about getting him started." Suddenly -he thrust his hands into his pockets and -stood staring at the wall. "Well, if that don't beat -anything I ever saw."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the trouble?" the Judge asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I dated that telegram the fourth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did!" Mrs. Elbridge cried. The Judge -looked hard at his brother. "It won't make any -difference," said Florence. "He will know that it -was a mistake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He will undoubtedly know who sent it," the -Judge added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder why Mr. Bradley and Agnes stay in -that dingy place," said Mrs. Elbridge, always -anxious to change the talk from William's dates.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The place may be dingy," replied the Judge, -"but there are no cobwebs hanging from the rafters -in the abode of love."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Judge!" she said, giving him a smiling frown.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To some eyes," remarked Florence, half musingly, -"there may be cobwebs hanging from the rafters -in love's abode, but to love they are strands of -gold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go out and watch for his coming," said -Mrs. Elbridge, taking Florence by the arm. They -went out, leaving William staring at the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way, what's this I happened to hear -about brother Henry being dead? I didn't know -he was dead till he wasn't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You didn't?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean I heard the news of his death and the -contradiction about the same time. Why did you -keep it from me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I knew there wasn't any truth in the report, -and there wasn't anything to be gained by telling you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anything to be gained. Do you only tell a -man a thing when there is something to be gained -by it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Judge looked at the clock and then at his -watch. "He ought to be here pretty soon. I want -everybody to keep away from me. I want to see -him first alone—in here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what's all this mystery about? I'll be -hanged if you haven't put my light under a bushel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, William, it is my light that has been under -a bushel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything may be all right, John, but I don't -understand it. There was something I wanted to -say. Yes. In case I forget it, tell him the date was -a mistake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't forget it, William. You never forget -a mistaken date."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There you go again. Can't a man make a request?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe a man can, William."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't believe anything of the sort, and you -know it. But I won't be left in the dark. I refuse -to stumble in ignorance." He started toward the -door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you going to do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am going to get the morning paper and settle -that date."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," said the Judge, as William went out. -"And tell them out there that I must see him here -alone. Don't forget that." He walked up and down -the room and then stood at the door. "Do you see -anything of him yet?" he called to his wife.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not yet. It isn't time. But here's a cab. It's -going to stop—no, it's gone on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me get there," said the Judge, as if the -others were responsible for the fact that the cab had -not halted and put Howard down at the door. A -moment after he went out Bradley and Agnes -entered the room. "They are gone to watch for him. -Shall we go, too?" the girl asked, looking at him -with a mischievous quiz in her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, let us stop here a moment. Strange, isn't -it, his going away and coming back so soon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They sat on a sofa, looking at each other as if -new interests were constantly springing up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have talked all over the house," she said. -"I feel as if I have been on an excursion. Yes, it is -strange. Don't you think they have quarreled?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps—but it will bring them closer together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she said, "but I wouldn't like to quarrel -just to be brought closer together. I wonder why -Mr. Bodney went away, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you ask?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, didn't you hear me? I heard him muttering -as he went out. And I understood him to say -that he wasn't coming back any more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought you knew why he went."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thought I did? How was I to know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could not help but think—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did you think?" she broke in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That he had asked you to be his wife and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, he never thought of such a thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And if he should?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd tell him no, of course."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may have to say yes sometime, Agnes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked down. "I won't have to—but I may."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Agnes, do you know what love is?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a question. Of course I do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it's er—er—don't you know what it is?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Agnes, it is a glorious defeat of the heart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't think so. It's more a victory than -a defeat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, the heart surrenders." They heard the -Judge exclaim, "No, it is not going to stop."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Agnes, did your heart ever surrender?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must not ask me that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not? Did your heart ever fight till it was -so tired that it had to give up—surrender?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mustn't ask me that. You'll make me cry." -She hid her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In sorrow, Agnes?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No—no, in happiness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He put his arms about her, kissed her, pouring -forth his dream of the fountain and the evening in -summer. The Judge startled them. "Don't let me -disturb your tableau," he said, laughing, "but I -must see my son in here alone, not in the office -where—where the safe is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come," said Bradley, taking Agnes by the hand, -"Let us watch with them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they arose the Judge looked at Agnes. "Ah, -I see happiness in your face, little one. Keep it -there, Bradley, for it is God-given." He took the -preacher's hand. "God bless you, Bradley. You -are a good fellow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't call him fellow, Mr. Judge," said the girl, -pretending to pout.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, fellow," Bradley replied. "It is closer to -the weakness of man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Closer to his heart, Bradley," said the Judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Bradley, and then he spoke to Agnes. -"Come with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anywhere with you," she replied, taking his arm -and looking up into his face. They passed out, and -the Judge stood, waiting. William appeared at -the door. "It's all right now, John."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's all right?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That date—the one that caused so much trouble -one night. It was on the tenth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it finally settled?" the Judge asked, listening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, finally, and nothing can throw me off. -Here comes Howard." The Judge motioned, and -William withdrew. Howard's footsteps were -heard. The old man stood with his face turned -from the door, striving to master himself. He felt -that surely he should break down. Howard stepped -into the room. "Father," he said. The Judge -turned, and, perfectly calm, held forth his hand. -Howard grasped it. "My son, let us be masters of -ourselves. Let us be strong, for you will have need -of strength. I have something to tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," Howard replied. "You have nothing to -tell. George met me at the station and told me. I -have forgiven him. I know how he has suffered. I -have seen his struggles. He must not be sent away. -I have brought him back with me. He is out there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard," said the old man, "you are a noble fellow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard stepped to the door and called Bodney. -When he entered the Judge said: "George, I am -going to rent an office in a modern building. That -old place is worn out. We are going to start new. -Ah, come in, Florence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have simply come to tell you that dinner is -ready," she said, with tears in her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said the Judge. "Come, boys." Florence -led the way, looking back, smiling, and the -old man went out between Bodney and Howard, -with his hands resting on their shoulders. In the -hall stood Agnes, the preacher and William. The -preacher was speaking. "If there were but one -word to express all the qualities of God, I should -select the word forgiveness," he said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>JUDGE ELBRIDGE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/46699"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/46699</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and -trademark. 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