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diff --git a/4733-h/4733-h.htm b/4733-h/4733-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..14ad22e --- /dev/null +++ b/4733-h/4733-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12053 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + When Egypt Went Broke, by Holman Day + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of When Egypt Went Broke, by Holman Day + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: When Egypt Went Broke + +Author: Holman Day + +Release Date: April 13, 2006 [EBook #4733] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHEN EGYPT WENT BROKE *** + + + + +Produced by Dagny; John Bickers; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + WHEN EGYPT WENT BROKE + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + A NOVEL <br /> <br /> By Holman Day + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>WHEN EGYPT WENT BROKE</b></big> + </a><br /> <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + WHEN EGYPT WENT BROKE + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + T. BRITT STARTS TO COLLECT + </h3> + <p> + Tasper Britt arose in the gray dawn, as usual. + </p> + <p> + Some fishermen, seeking bait, stay up late and “jack” angleworms with a + bull's-eye light. The big worms are abroad on the soil under cover of the + darkness. Other fishermen get up early and dig while the dew is holding + the smaller worms near the surface of the ground; in going after worms the + shrewd operator makes the job easy for himself. + </p> + <p> + Tasper Britt—“Twelve-per-cent Britt”—trimmed his slumber at + both ends—was owl and early bird, both, in his pursuit of the pence + of the people, and got 'em coming and going. + </p> + <p> + He was the money boss for the town of Egypt, and those who did not give + him his per cent nickname called him “Phay-ray-oh”—but behind his + back, of course. To his face his debt slaves bespoke his favor + obsequiously. Seeing that nearly every “Egyptian” with collateral owed him + money, Mr. Britt had no fault to find with his apparent popularity. He did + believe, complacently, that he was popular. A man who was less sure of + himself would not have dared to appear out, all at once, with his beard + dyed purple-black and with a scratch wig to match. Men gasped when they + came into his office in Britt Block, but men held their faces measurably + under control even though their diaphragms fluttered; the need of renewing + a note—paying a bonus for the privilege—helped supplicants to + hold in any bubbling hilarity. Therefore, Mr. Britt continued to be + assured that he was pretty generally all right, so far as the folks of + Egypt were concerned. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt dyed after Hittie died. That was when he was past sixty-five. + </p> + <p> + It was only the familiar, oft-repeated instance of temperament being + jounced out of a lifelong rut by a break in wedlock relations. + </p> + <p> + Hittie was his yoke-mate, pulling hard at his side with wages of food and + drink. The two of them kept plodding steadily in the dry and rocky road + all the years, never lifting their eyes to look over into pastures + forbidden. Perhaps if Hittie had been left with the money, after the yoke + had been sundered, she would have kicked up her heels in a few final + capers of consolation, in order to prove to herself, by brief experience, + how much better consistent sainthood was as a settled state. + </p> + <p> + In view of such a possibility—and widows are not altogether + different from widowers—it was hardly fair in the folks of Egypt to + twist every act of Widower Britt to his discredit and to make him out a + renegade of a relict. He did go through all the accepted motions as a + mourner. He took on “something dreadful” at the funeral. He placed in the + cemetery lot a granite statue of himself, in a frock coat of stone and + holding a stone plug hat in the hook of the elbow. That statue cost Tasper + Britt rising sixteen hundred dollars—and after he dyed his beard and + bought the top piece of hair, the satirists of Egypt were unkind enough to + say that he had set his stone image out in the graveyard to scare Hittie + if she tried to arise and spy on his new carryings-on. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt had continued to be a consistent mourner, according to the + old-fashioned conventions. + </p> + <p> + When he arose in the dawn of the day with which the tale begins and + unwound a towel from his jowls—for the new Magnetic Hair Restorer + had an ambitious way of touching up the pillow-slip with color—he + beheld a memento, composed of assembled objects, “sacred to the memory of + Mehitable.” In a frame, under glass, on black velvet were these items: + silver plate from casket, hair switch, tumbler and spoon with which the + last medicine had been administered, wedding ring and marriage + certificate; photograph in center. The satirists had their comment for + that memento—they averred that it was not complete without the two + dish towels to which Hittie had been limited. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt inspected the memento and sighed; that was before he had touched + up his beard with a patent dye comb. + </p> + <p> + After he had set the scratch wig on his glossy poll and had studied + himself in the mirror he looked more cheerful and pulled a snapshot + photograph from a bureau drawer, gazed on it and sighed again. It was the + picture of a girl, a full-length view of a mighty pretty girl whose + smiling face was backed by an open sunshade. She was in white garb and + wore no hat. + </p> + <p> + “Vona,” said Mr. Britt, talking out as if the sound of his voice fortified + his faith, “you're going to see this thing in the right way, give you + time. I'm starting late—but I'm blasted wide awake from now on. I + have gone after money, but money ain't everything. I reckon that by + to-night I can show you honors that you'll share with me—they've + been waiting for me, and now I'll reach out and take 'em for your sake. + Hittie didn't know what to do with money—honors would have bothered + her. But with a girl like you I can grab in and relish living for the rest + of this life.” + </p> + <p> + Then Mr. Britt went over to the tavern to get his breakfast. + </p> + <p> + By eating his three meals per day at the tavern he was indulging his new + sense of liberty. He and Hittie always used to eat in the kitchen—meals + on the dot, as to time. The tavern was little and dingy, and Egypt was off + the railroad line, and there were few patrons, and old Files cut his steak + very close to the critter's horn. But after the years of routine at a home + table there was a sort of clubman, devil-may-care suggestion about this + new regime at the tavern; and after his meals Britt sat in the tavern + office and smoked a cigar. Furthermore, he held a mortgage on the tavern + and Files was behind on the interest and was eagerly and humbly glad to + pay his creditor with food. In order to impress a peddler or other + transient guest the creditor was in the habit of calling in Files and + ordering him to recook portions. + </p> + <p> + In his new sense of expansion as a magnate, Tasper Britt took his time + about eating and allowed men with whom he had dealings to come into the + dining room and sit down opposite and state their cases. + </p> + <p> + That morning Ossian Orne came in and sat at the table without asking for + permission to be admitted to such intimacy. He came with the air of a man + who was keeping an appointment, and Mr. Britt's manner of greeting Orne + showed that this was so. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Orne did not remove the earlapper cap which the nippy February day + demanded; nor did he shuck off the buffalo coat whose baldness in the rear + below the waistline suggested the sedentary habits of Mr. Orne. He + selected a doughnut from the plate at Britt's elbow and munched placidly. + </p> + <p> + Landlord Files, who was bringing ham and eggs to a commercial drummer, was + amazed by this familiarity and stopped and showed that amazement. He was + more astonished by what he overheard. Mr. Orne was saying, “As your + manager, Britt—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt scowled at Mr. Files, and the latter slap-slupped on his + slippered way; it was certainly news that Britt had taken on a manager. + Such a personage must be permitted to be familiar. When Mr. Files looked + again, Mr. Orne was eating a second doughnut. He was laying down the law + to a nodding and assenting Mr. Britt on some point, and then he took a + third doughnut and rose to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be back to-night, with full details and further instructions to you, + Britt,” declared Mr. Orne, who was known in the county political circles + as “Sniffer” Orne. He combined politics with nursery-stock canvassing and + had a way of his own in getting under the skins of men when he went in + search of information. “If I ain't back to-night I'll report to-morrow. I + may have to take a run over into Norway, Vienna, and Peru to make sure of + how things stand generally.” + </p> + <p> + He trudged out, stooping forward and waddling with the gait of a parrot + ambling along on a pole; his projecting coat tail and his thin beak gave + him a sort of avian look. The commercial drummer, overhearing his + projected itinerary, glanced out of the window as if he expected to see + Mr. Orne spread wings and fly. But Mr. Orne tucked himself into a + high-backed sleigh and went jangling off along Egypt's single street. + </p> + <p> + The stranger, inquiring of Mr. Files, learned that Mr. Orne was not as + much of a globe-trotter as he sounded. + </p> + <p> + “It's only the way the Old Sirs named the towns in the ranges about here + when the land was took up. In this range we have Egypt and them other + towns you heard him speak of. In the next range below are Jerusalem and + Damascus and Levant and Purgatory Mills. If them unorganized townships to + the north of us are ever took up and made towns of, it would be just like + some whifflehead to name 'em Heaven, Hell, Hooray, and Hackmetack. But the + name of Egypt fits this town all right,” stated Mr. Files, disconsolately, + and in his perturbation raising his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Files, don't run down your home town,” rasped Mr. Britt. + </p> + <p> + “What has been run down as far's it can be run can't be run no farther,” + said the landlord. “And I 'ain't said why the name Egypt fits the town, + for that matter.” Britt's ugly stare was taking the spirit out of the + landlord's rebelliousness. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you do say!” counseled Mr. Britt, menace in his tones. “I've got + a new and special reason, right now, why I demand that every citizen must + uphold the good name of our town—especially a citizen in your + position, first to meet all arriving strangers. Why does the name fit this + town?” He banged the handle of his knife on the table. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt had reason for the heat which he was displaying and which caused + the stranger to open his eyes more widely. Mr. Britt was fully aware that + men called him “Phay-ray-oh” and that his statue in the cemetery was + called “The Sphinx.” He knew that since the town had gone on the down + grade through debt and the decay of industries the inhabitants had begun + to call themselves “The Children of Israel,” and to say they were trying + to make bricks without straw. In fact, an itinerant evangelist who called + himself “The Light of the World” had come to town and was trying to exhort + the inhabitants into rebellion against conditions, and in his + crack-brained hysteria was having some success in exciting “The Children” + to protest against the domination by Tasper Britt. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Files was not as handy with his tongue as he was with the mallet with + which he pounded steak. He struggled with an inept reply about an old town + having a dignified old name. He stuttered and stopped when Britt came and + stood in front of him, chewing savagely on a toothpick. + </p> + <p> + “Files, I wasn't intending to make a formal announcement till my political + manager, Ossian Orne, gets back with reports from the field. Not but what + I expect that when it is known that I'm willing to accept political honor + it will be given to me. But when I sit in the next legislature of this + state as Representative Britt of Egypt, I propose to represent a town that + ain't slurred at home or abroad. Hereafter, mind your tongue and advise + others to do the same.” + </p> + <p> + He stamped out. Landlord Files was left standing with an open mouth from + which no speech issued. + </p> + <p> + “Emperor, or only a plain king?” inquired the bagman. + </p> + <p> + “You being a stranger, I can let out some of my feelings,” returned Mr. + Files. “Emperor, you say? He might just as well try to be one as to run + for the legislature.” + </p> + <p> + The drummer showed interest. + </p> + <p> + “That's what getting to be a widderer can do to some men,” confided the + landlord. He placed a smutty hand on the table and leaned down. “That + legislature thing ain't the half of it, mister! He hasn't blacked his + whiskers and bought that false mane simply so as to get into politics. + He's trying to court the prettiest girl in this town.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” said the drummer. “The old story! Cleopatra, queen of Egypt, is + doing the job over again with the local Mark Antony!” + </p> + <p> + “Mebbe,” admitted Mr. Files, his fishy gaze revealing that he had no + personal knowledge of the parties mentioned. “It's the old story, all + right. Widdereritis, and a bad run of it.” + </p> + <p> + The bagman had a scarfpin in the shape of a horse shoe. His comment was in + line with his taste in adornment. “Files, old scout, if a colt is put to + harness so early that he can't get his natural fling in the fields, he'll + have it at the other end of his life, when he's let run to pasture, spavin + or no spavin. Why don't Egypt hold off and let Uncle What's-his-name enjoy + his new hair and hopes?” + </p> + <p> + “He has known how to collect in the money that's due him,” stated Mr. + Files, “compound interest and all! He was only getting back his + investments. But he has never put out any of the kind of capital that + earns liking or respect or love. He has woke up to what he has been + missing. He's trying to collect what he has never invested. And he can't + do it, mister! No, sir, he can't!” + </p> + <p> + The drummer was a young man. He asked a natural question. “Isn't the girl + willing to be an old man's darling?” + </p> + <p> + “You might go over to Britt's bank and ask her,” suggested Mr. Files, + crisply. “She's bookkeeper there. But you'd better not let that young + fellow that's cashier overhear you.” + </p> + <p> + “So that's it? Say, events in Egypt in the near future may make some of + the mummies here sit up and take notice!” + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn't wonder a mite,” agreed Mr. Files, beginning to gather up the + dishes. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + FIRST COLLECTIONS + </h3> + <p> + That morning Mr. Britt did not dawdle in the hotel office with his cigar. + He knew perfectly well that he merely had been making a pretense of + enjoying that sybaritism, putting on his new clubman airs along with his + dye and his toupee. + </p> + <p> + Among other curios in the office was a dusty, stuffed alligator, hanging + from the ceiling over the desk. The jaws were widely agape and Mr. Britt + always felt an inclination to yawn when he looked alligatorward. + Therefore, the alligator offended Mr. Britt by suggesting drowsiness in + the morning; Mr. Britt, up early, and strictly after any worm that showed + itself along the financial path, resented the feeling of daytime + sleepiness as heresy. Furthermore, that morning the gaping alligator also + suggested the countenance of the open-mouthed Files whom Britt had just + left in the dining room, and Files had been irritating. Britt scowled at + the alligator, lighted a cigar, and hustled outdoors; he had the feeling + that the day was to be an important one in his affairs. + </p> + <p> + Egypt's Pharaoh was able to view considerable of the town from the tavern + porch. The tavern was an old stage-coach house and was boosted high on a + hill, according to the pioneer plan of location. The houses of the little + village straggled down the hill. + </p> + <p> + The aspect was not uninviting, seen under the charitable cloak of + February's snow, sun-touched by the freshly risen luminary, the white + expanses glinting; all the rocks and ledges and the barren shapes were + covered. But under summer's frank sunlight Egypt was as disheartening a + spectacle as a racked old horse, ribs and hip bones outthrust, waiting for + the knacker's offices. + </p> + <p> + There were men in Egypt—men whose reverses had put them in a + particularly ugly mood—who said out loud in places where Britt could + not hear them that the money-grabber could not get much more than + twelve-per-cent blood out of the nag he had ridden for so long, and might + as well set knife to neck and put the town out of its misery. + </p> + <p> + Right behind Britt, as he stood on the porch, was a sheaf of yellowed + papers nailed to the side of the tavern. Nobody in Egypt bothered to look + at the papers; all the taxpayers knew what they were; the papers were + signed by the high sheriff of the county and represented that all the real + estate of Egypt had been sold over and over for taxes and had been bid in + by the town as a municipality—and there the matter rested. Egypt, in + other words, had been trying to lift itself by the bootstraps and was not + merely still standing on the ground, but was considerably sunk in the hole + that had been dug by the boot heels while Egypt was jumping up and down. + Mr. Britt was not troubled by the sight of the yellowed papers; he owned + mortgages and pulled in profit by the legal curiosities known as “Holmes + notes”—leeches of particular drawing power. Mr. Britt did not own + real estate. Egypt, in its financial stress and snarl of litigation, was a + wonderful operating field for a man with loose money and a tight nature. + </p> + <p> + From far swamps the whack of axes sounded. Mr. Britt knew that men were + cutting hoop poles and timber for shooks; Egypt earned ready money with + which to pay interest, getting out shooks and hoop poles. That occupation + had been the resource of the pioneers, and the descendants stuck to the + work, knowing how to do it better than anything else. There was not enough + soil for farming on a real money-making scale. The old sheep, so cynics + said, were trained to hold the lambs by their tails and lower them head + downward among the rocks to graze. Poor men usually own dogs. But dogs + would not live long in Egypt, the cynics went on to assert; the dogs ran + themselves to death hustling over the town line to find dirt enough to + bury a bone. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt could see his statue in the cemetery. + </p> + <p> + Down the street was a one-story brick building, the only brick structure + in the town. Set into the front of this building was a replica of the + statue in the cemetery. Britt had secured special rates by ordering two + statues from the stonecutter. Britt possessed vanity. He had hidden it, + begrudging the cost of gratifying it. The crust of his nature, hardening + through the years, had pressed upon that vanity. The statues, his + refurbished beard, and his rehaired head had relieved the pressure + somewhat, but the vanity was still sore. In his new mood he was dreading a + blow on that sore spot. He realized what kind of a grudge he was carrying + around. A vague sense of an unjust deal in life is more dangerous to the + possessor than an acute and concrete knowledge of specific injury. The + vagueness causes it to be correlated to insanity. Britt, putting his + belated aspirations to the test, hoped that nobody would presume to hit on + that sore spot. He knew that such an adventure might be dangerous for the + person or persons who went up against him. + </p> + <p> + He buttoned his overcoat, settled the cigar rigidly into one corner of his + mouth, stared with approval at the stone image of himself in the facade of + Britt Block, and walked to the edge of the porch. + </p> + <p> + Across the street sat a little building above the door of which was a sign + inscribed, “Usial Britt, Shoemaker.” That it was a dwelling as well as a + shop was indicated when a bare and hairy arm was thrust from a side window + and the refuse in a smoking iron spider was dumped upon the snow. + Simultaneously it was shown that more than one person tenanted the + building: a man, bareheaded, but with a shaggy mat of roached hair that + served in lieu of a hat, issued from the door. The wanton luxuriance of + the hair would have stirred envy in any baldheaded man; but Tasper Britt + exhibited a passion that was more virulent than envy. + </p> + <p> + The man who came forth was “Prophet Elias.” It was the newcomer, the + religious fanatic, the exhorter against oppression of the people by usury, + the fearless declaimer who named Tasper Britt in diatribe and was setting + the folks by the ears. + </p> + <p> + The Prophet's morning greeting did not make for amity. He stood straight + and pointed in turn to the visible statues and then to Tasper Britt, in + person. “Baal, and the images of Baal!” he shouted. “Stone, all three!” + </p> + <p> + Then he stepped from the door and spread a prodigiously big umbrella—an + umbrella striped in dingy colors and of the size of the canopies seen over + the drivers of delivery wagons. The employment of such a shield from the + sun in midwinter indicated that the Prophet was rather more than + eccentric; his garb conveyed the same suggestion. He wore a frayed purple + robe that hung on his heels when he came striding across the street. On a + broad band of cloth that once had been white, reaching from shoulder to + waist, diagonally across his breast, were the words, “The Light of the + World.” + </p> + <p> + Tasper Britt surveyed him with venomous gaze as he advanced. But Britt + shifted his stare and put additional venom into the look he gave a man who + came to the door and stood there, leaning against the jamb and surveying + the scene with a satisfied grin. There was no need of the name “Britt” + above his head to proclaim his kinship with the man who stood on the + tavern porch. The beard of the Britt in the door was gray, and his head + was bald. But he was Tasper Britt, in looks, as Britt unadorned ought to + have been. There was something like subtle reproach in his sticking to + nature as nature had ordained. And the folks of Egypt had been having much + to say about Usial Britt putting this new touch of malice into the + long-enduring feud between twin brothers—even though he merely went + on as he had been going, bald and gray. But because Usial had taken to + going about in public places wherever Tasper appeared, and unobtrusively + got as near his brother as possible on those occasions, and winked and + pointed to himself and suggested “Before using!” the malice was apparent. + </p> + <p> + Usial, in the door, stroked his smooth poll complacently and grinned. + </p> + <p> + Tasper, on the porch, shook his fist. + </p> + <p> + Prophet Elias marched close to the porch and struck an attitude. “Hear ye! + Hath not Job said, 'The triumphing of the wicked is short, and the joy of + the hypocrite but for a moment'?” + </p> + <p> + A man who was humped over a sawbuck in a nearby yard straightened up and + began to pay strict attention. A driver halted a sled loaded with unshaved + hoop poles, and listened. The commercial drummer came out on the porch. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, you crazy coot, haven't I given you fair warning about + tongue-whaling me in public?” demanded the man who was pilloried. + </p> + <p> + “'Behold, all they that are incensed against thee shall be ashamed and + confounded,'” quoted the Prophet, pounding his fist against the lettered + breast. “'They shall be as nothing; and they that strive with thee shall + perish.'” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt leaped off the porch, thrust the Prophet from his path, and + strode across the street toward the man in the door. The brother did not + lose his smile. He maintained his placid demeanor even when an angry + finger slashed through the air close under his nose. + </p> + <p> + “I never intended to pass speech with you again, you renegade,” stormed + Tasper. “But I'm talking to-day for a town that I propose to represent in + the legislature, and I won't have it shamed any longer by a lunatic that + you're harboring.” + </p> + <p> + Usial Britt lifted his eyebrows. “The legislature?” He puckered his lips + and whistled a few bars of “Hail to the Chief.” + </p> + <p> + Candidate Britt waggled the monitory finger more energetically. “You are + sheltering and ste'boying on a crazy man who is making the rest of the + people in this town crazy. If they hadn't grown loony they'd ride him out + over the line on a rail.” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet had arrived at Britt's shoulder. “'But God has chose the + foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God has chosen the + weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty.'” + </p> + <p> + “I don't guarantee my guest's brains,” said the Britt in the door, “but I + do vouch for the correctness of his memory when it comes to the matter of + Gospel quotations. And a cracked record doesn't always spoil a good tune.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll have him in the lockup as a tramp, or on the poor farm as a + lunatic.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean, that's where you would have him if the shelter of my roof + didn't give him legal protection,” returned Usial, calm in the face of + wrath. + </p> + <p> + “'I was a stranger, and ye took me in,'” declaimed the Prophet. + </p> + <p> + “And I'm keeping you on,” stated the cynical Usial, speaking for his + brother's benefit, “because you're a self-operating, red-hot gad that is + helping me torment yon pirate with texts after I had run out of cuss + words. Go ahead, Prophet! Shoot anything. It's a poor text that will not + hit him some place.” + </p> + <p> + Obediently, the fanatic began to mouth Holy Writ in orotund. Tasper Britt + raised his fist. But the devil himself shrinks before The Word. Britt did + not strike. His face revealed his emotions; he could not bring himself to + assault this fountain of sacred aphorisms. + </p> + <p> + He turned and marched away down the middle of the road, stamping hard into + the snow. + </p> + <p> + One of the listeners was a man who came bearing a pair of shoes. Usial + Britt took them from the man's hand. “You can have 'em to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + “But there's only a little patch needed—” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow night, I said. I've got other business for to-day.” He went + into the house and slammed the door. + </p> + <p> + The Prophet set his umbrella over his head and went away on the trail of + Egypt's Pharaoh. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + MORE COLLECTIONS + </h3> + <p> + There was a door in the middle of the facade of the low brick building; + there were two windows on either side of the door. On the left-hand + windows was painted in black letters, “Egypt Trust Company.” On the + right-hand windows was painted, “T. Britt.” There was no legend to + indicate what the business of T. Britt might be. None was required. The + mere name carried full information for all Egypt. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt glanced in at the left-hand windows as he approached the door. + Cashier Frank Vaniman was sweeping out. + </p> + <p> + When President Britt of the new Egypt Trust company went down to a + business college in the city in search of a cashier, he quizzed candidates + in quest of what he termed “foolish notions.” Young Mr. Vaniman, who had + supported himself ever since he was fourteen years old, and had done about + everything in the ten years since then in the way of work, grabbing weeks + or months for his schooling when he had a bit of money ahead, passed the + test very well, according to Mr. Britt's notion. Young Mr. Vaniman had + secured a business education piecemeal, and was a bit late in getting it, + but Mr. Britt promptly perceived that the young man had not been hung up + by stupidity or sloth. So he hired Vaniman, finding him a strapping chap + without foolish notions. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman was cashier, receiving teller, paying teller, swept out, tended + the furnace, and kept the books of the bank until Britt hired Vona Harnden + for that job. Vona had been teaching school to help out her folks, in the + prevailing Egyptian famine in finance. + </p> + <p> + But folks stopped paying taxes, and the town orders by the school + committee on the treasurer were not honored; therefore, Vona gratefully + took a place in the bank when Mr. Britt called her into his office one day + and offered the job to her. He said that the work was getting to be too + much for Frank. That consideration for hired help impressed Miss Harnden + and she smiled very sweetly indeed, and Mr. Britt beamed back at her in a + fashion that entirely disarranged for the rest of the day the set look + that he creased into his features before his mirror every morning. Several + clients took advantage of his blandness and renewed notes without paying + the premium that Britt exacted when he loaned his own money as a private + venture. + </p> + <p> + President Britt entered the door, but he did not go into the bank at once. + He marched along the corridor and unlocked his office and toasted himself + over the furnace register while he finished his cigar; Vaniman was a good + fireman and was always down early. Mr. Britt kept his ear cocked; he knew + well the tap of certain brisk boot heels that sounded in the corridor + every morning and he timed his movements accordingly. + </p> + <p> + By being on the alert for sounds, he heard what did not comport with the + comfort of his office. Prophet Elias was engaged in his regular morning + tour of duty, picketing T. Britt's domains, giving an hour to deliverance + of taunting texts before going abroad through the town on his mission to + the people with texts of comfort; the Prophet carried plenty of + penetrating, textual ammunition, but he carried poultices for the spirit + as well. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt heard: “'Will he esteem thy riches? No, not gold, nor all the + forces of strength.'” + </p> + <p> + The usurer commented under his breath with remarks that were not + scriptured. He threw away his cigar and went to a case where he kept some + law books which contained the statutes that were concerned with money and + debts and dependence; he had been hunting through the legislative acts + regarding vagrants and paupers and had been hoping to light on some legal + twist that would serve him. The Prophet kept on proclaiming. But all at + once he shifted from taunts about riches. His voice was mellow with + sincere feeling. + </p> + <p> + Said the Prophet: “'Behold, thou art fair, my love; thou hast doves' eyes + within thy locks. Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep which came up from + the washing. Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is + comely. Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.'” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt did not wait in his office for the completion of the panegyric. + He knew well enough what arriving personage it heralded. He hurried out + into the corridor and faced the radiant girl who came in from the + sunshine. Even one who might question the Prophet's tact would not have + blamed his enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “Vona, you swear out a warrant and I'll have him arrested,” stammered the + employer. + </p> + <p> + She checked a chirrup of laughter and her smile faded when she opened her + eyes on Britt's sourness. + </p> + <p> + “There's a law about hectoring and insulting a female person on the street—some + kind of a law—and we'll invoke it in this case,” Britt insisted. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Britt, he's only a harmless old man with extremely poor judgment + about most things, including a girl's looks,” she protested. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you call that gabble an insult to you, walking along and minding + your own business?” His heat was alarming; he shook his fist to indicate + the Prophet. + </p> + <p> + She was unable to restrain her demure smile. “The specifications, sir, are + overflattering; but I'm sure I don't feel insulted.” + </p> + <p> + In the past Britt had purred paternally in her presence and had stared at + her in a way that often disconcerted her. Now his expression alarmed her. + His face grew red. At first she thought he was embarrassed by the + reflection that he had been terming the Prophet's compliments an insult—intimating + that she had no claim to such compliments. But Mr. Britt did not bother to + deal with that phase of the matter. The flame was shifted from his face to + his eyes; his cheeks grew pale. He tried to put his arm about her. She set + her gloved hands against the arm and pushed it away, fright popping her + eyelids wide apart. + </p> + <p> + “I want to protect you,” Britt stuttered. “I don't want any harm or + trouble to come to you.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped back and gazed at her imploringly. His abashed obedience, his + promptness in desisting, restored her self-possession immediately. She had + the air of one who had misunderstood friendly interest. “Oh, Mr. Britt, I + know you have a kind heart underneath your—I mean that folks don't + realize how good you are unless they are near to you, as Frank and I are. + We often speak of it.” She hurried on. She opened the door admitting to + the bank from the corridor and cheerily called her “Good morning!” to the + cashier as she crossed the threshold. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt stood in his tracks in the corridor after she closed the door. + He stared at the floor with eyes that saw nothing. He slowly raised his + hand and set his right index finger upon the toupee and scratched + meditatively through the mesh—scratched carefully, having accustomed + himself to handling his boughten hair with cautious touch. He had not + liked her intonation when she said “Frank and I.” He muttered something + about his feelings. He had never thought of Frank as belonging in Vona's + calculations. He had never considered even the linking of their names, + much less their interests. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Britt, having made money his idol, could not understand worship + directed to any other shrine. His face cleared while he pondered. A girl + who frankly declared at all times that she would do 'most anything to help + her family out of their troubles was not of a mind to hitch up with + another pauper—a combination of choreman and cashier—even + though she had linked their names casually in speech. And Mr. Britt + mouthed mumblingly some of the sentiments he had put into words that + morning when he arose. He smoothed down the top piece and looked more at + ease. He smiled when he reflected on what he would have to say to her + after Emissary Orne had returned with something in the line of fruits from + the Promised Land. His self-assurance revived; nevertheless, he tiptoed + along the corridor and listened at the door of the bank. + </p> + <p> + The reassuring swish of a broom and their casual chatter—he heard + only those commonplace sounds! + </p> + <p> + She was asking Vaniman if he had mislaid her dustcloth. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman replied in a tone which indicated that the two were at some + distance from each other. There was no subdued conference—no + murmuring of mushiness such as a meeting in the morning might be expected + to elicit in case there was any sort of an understanding between them. Mr. + Britt tiptoed away from the door and braced back his shoulders and gave + himself a shake of satisfied confidence, and went serenely into his + office, plucking a cigar from his vest pocket. By permitting himself to + smoke again he was breaking the habit of confining himself to one cigar + after breakfast. But many men in moments of exaltation seek tobacco or + alcohol. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt felt that he had broken the ice, at any rate. Mr. Britt decided + that the girl was heart-free and entertained sensible ideas about the main + chance—and she had had a good word to say about Britt's kind heart. + Mr. Britt was sure that Frank Vaniman knew his place and was keeping it. + Therefore, Mr. Britt lighted a fresh cigar and blew visible smoke rings + and inflated invisible mental bubbles and did not pay any more attention + to what Prophet Elias was saying outside. And as if the Prophet had + received a psychological hint that his text shafts were no longer + penetrating the money king's tough hide, the diminuendo of his orotund + marked the progress of his departure. + </p> + <p> + Usually Mr. Britt went across into the bank and hung around after the girl + arrived. On this morning he stayed in his office. According to his notion, + his advances to her in the corridor, though he had not intended to be so + precipitate in the matter, had given her something to think about—and + he decided to keep away and let her think. If she saw him following the + usual routine, her thoughts might drop back into routine channels. + </p> + <p> + He thrilled at the memory of her touch on his arm, even though the touch + had been a thrusting of her hands in self-defense and her eyes had been + big with fright. + </p> + <p> + He sat down at his desk and tore the leaf off his pad calendar, starting + his business day as usual. He looked at the disclosed date and his eyes + became humid. It was February 14th, the day of St. Valentine. An idea came + to Mr. Britt. He had been wondering how to approach the question with Vona + without blurting the thing and making a mess of it. He determined to do + something that he had not attempted since he had beaued Hittie; he set + himself to compose a few verses for a valentine—verses that would + pave the way for a formal declaration of his love and his hopes. + </p> + <p> + The determination indicated that Mr. Britt was having a severe run of a + second attack of the same malady, and he acknowledged that much to himself + as he sat there and chewed the soggy end of an extinguished cigar and + gazed aloft raptly, seeking rhymes. + </p> + <p> + He made slow progress; his pen trailed as sluggishly as a tracking snail—a + word at a time. He lost all notion of how the hours were slipping past. + </p> + <p> + A man walked in. He was Stickney, a cattle buyer, and a minor stockholder + in the bank. Mr. Britt, his eyes filmy with prolonged abstraction, hooked + his chin over his shoulder and scowled on the intruder; a man bringing + business into that office that day was an intruder, according to Mr. + Britt's opinion. + </p> + <p> + Stickney walked close to the desk and displayed a flash of curiosity when + Britt laid his forearm over his writing. + </p> + <p> + “Spring pome, or only a novel?” queried Stickney, genially, figuring that + such a question was the height of humor when put to a man of Tasper + Britt's flinty, practical nature. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt, like a person touched smartly by a brad, twitched himself in + his chair and asked in chilly tone what he could do for Stickney. The + caller promptly became considerable of an icicle himself. He laid down a + little sheaf of papers beside the shielding forearm. + </p> + <p> + “If you'll O. K. them notes for discount, I'll be much obliged, and won't + take up valuable time.” + </p> + <p> + “We're tightening up on discounts—calling in many loans, too,” + stated President Britt, with financial frigidity. + </p> + <p> + “I know all about your calling loans, Mr. Britt. Much obliged. It makes a + crackerjack market for me in the cattle business. They've got to raise + money, and I'm setting my own prices.” Stickney thawed and beamed on Britt + with a show of fraternal spirit, as if the banker were a co-conspirator in + the job of shaking down the public. “However, my notes there are all good + butchers' paper—sound as a pennyroyal hymn! I've got to have the + cash so as to steal more cattle while the market is as it is.” + </p> + <p> + Britt pushed away the notes and seized the opportunity to turn his own + papers upside down on the desk. “We can't accommodate you at present, + Stickney.” + </p> + <p> + The customer stepped back and propped his palms on his hips. “I reckon + I've got to call for an explanation.” + </p> + <p> + “We're not in the habit of explaining the details of our business to + individuals.” + </p> + <p> + Stickney slipped the leash on his indignation. “'We,' say you? All right! + 'We' it is. I'm in on that 'we.' I'm a stockholder in the bank. What sort + of investments are 'we' making that have caused money to be so tight here + that a regular customer is turned down—and after enough loans have + been called to make the vault bulge?” + </p> + <p> + “The report will show,” returned Britt, coldly. “I am not called on to + issue that report in installments every time a stockholder turns in here.” + </p> + <p> + The especial stockholder stepped forward and tapped his finger on the + desk. “I don't say that you are. But now that this subject is opened up—” + </p> + <p> + “The subject is closed, Stickney.” + </p> + <p> + “Now that the subject is opened up,” insisted the other man, “I'll make + mention of what you probably know—that I have regular business 'most + every day down in Levant at the railroad terminus. And I'm knowing to it + that regular shipments of specie have been coming to the bank. If that + specie is in our vaults it ain't sweating off more gold and silver, is it, + or drawing interest? I know you're a shrewd operator, Britt. I ain't + doubting but what your plans may be good.” + </p> + <p> + “They are!” President Britt's retort was crisp. + </p> + <p> + “But when those plans put a crimp into <i>my</i> plans—and me a + steady customer—I'm opening my mouth to ask questions.” + </p> + <p> + “You—and all other stockholders—will be fully informed by the + annual report—and will be pleased.” Britt's air was one of finality. + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell you that the mouth I have opened to ask questions will stay + open in regard to hoarding that specie where it ain't drawing interest.” + </p> + <p> + Britt jumped up and shook his fist under Stickney's snub nose. “Don't you + dare to go blabbing around the country! You might as well set off a bomb + under our bank as to circulate news that will attract robbers.” + </p> + <p> + “Bomb? Britt, I'm safe when I'm handled right, but if I'm handled wrong—” + Stickney did not finish his sentence; but his truculent air was pregnant + with suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think you can blackmail me or this bank into making an exception + in your case against our present policy? Go ahead and talk, Stickney, and + I'll post the people of this town on your selfish tactics—and you'll + see where you get off!” + </p> + <p> + Stickney did not argue the matter further. He looked like a man who was + disgusted because he had wasted so much time trying to get around a Tasper + Britt stony “No!” He picked up his papers, stamped out, and slammed the + door. + </p> + <p> + Britt shook himself, like a spiritualist medium trying to induce the + trance state, and went back to his writing. + </p> + <p> + After a time a dull, thrumming sound attracted his attention. It was + something like Files's dinner gong, whose summons Mr. Britt was wont to + obey on the instant. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt was certain that it was not the gong; however, he glanced up at + the clock on the wall, then he leaped out of his chair. In his amazement + he rapped out, “Well, I'll be—” + </p> + <p> + That clock was reliable; it marked the hour of twelve. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt had received convincing evidence that the rhapsody of + composition makes morsels of hours and gulps days in two bites. + </p> + <p> + But he had completed five stanzas. He concluded that they would do, though + he had planned on five more. Glancing over his composition, he decided + that it might be better to leave the matter a bit vague, just as the poem + left it at the end of the fifth stanza. In the corridor that morning Vona + had shown that too much precipitateness alarmed her; he might go too far + in five more stanzas. The five he had completed would give her a hint—something + to think of. He pondered on that point while he stuck the paper into an + envelope and sealed it. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt hurried the rest of his movements; Files's kitchen conveniences + were archaic, and the guest who was not on time got cold viands. + </p> + <p> + The lover who had begun to stir Miss Harnden's thoughts into rather + unpleasant roiliness of doubts came hustling into the bank, hat and coat + on. + </p> + <p> + The girl and young Vaniman were spreading their respective lunches on the + center table inside the grille. + </p> + <p> + Britt called Vona to the wicket. He slipped the envelope through to her. + “There's no hurry, you understand! Take your time. Read it in a slack + moment—later! And”—he hesitated and gulped—“I want to + see you after bank hours. If you'll step in—I'll be much obliged.” + </p> + <p> + She did not assent orally, nor show especial willingness to respond to his + invitation. She took the envelope and turned toward the table after Britt + had left the wicket. + </p> + <p> + She walked to the window and gazed at the retreating back of Mr. Britt, + and put the envelope into a velvet bag that was attached by slender chains + to her girdle. + </p> + <p> + When she faced Vaniman, the young cashier was regarding her archly. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if congratulations are in order,” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + Her quick flush was followed by a pallor that gave her an appearance of + anger. “I don't relish that sort of humor.” + </p> + <p> + “My gracious, Vona, I wasn't trying to be especially humorous,” he + protested, staring at her so ingenuously that his candor could not be + questioned. “I reckoned that the boss was raising your pay, and was being + a bit sly about it! What else can it be?” + </p> + <p> + Then she was truly disconcerted; at a loss for a reply; ashamed of her + display of emotion. + </p> + <p> + He stared hard at her. His face began to show that he was struggling with + an emotion of his own. “Vona,” he faltered, after a time, “I haven't any + right to ask you—but do you have any—is that paper—” + </p> + <p> + He was unable to go on under the straight and strange gaze she leveled at + him. She was plainly one who was taking counsel with herself. She came to + a sudden decision, and drew forth the envelope and tore it open, unfolded + the paper, and began to read. + </p> + <p> + When her eyes were not on him Vaniman revealed much of what a discerning + person would have known to be love; love that had been pursuing its way + quietly, but was now alarmed and up in arms. He narrowed his eyes and + studied her face while she read. But she did not reveal what she thought + and he became more perturbed. She finished and looked across at him and + then she narrowed her eyes to match his expression. Suddenly she leaned + forward and gave him the paper. He read it, amazement lifting his + eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + When he met her stare again they were moved by a common impulse—mirth; + mirth that was born out of their mutual amazement and was baptized by the + tears that their merriment squeezed from their eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I am not laughing at Tasper Britt,” he gasped, checking his hilarity. “I + would not laugh at any man who falls in love with you, Vona. I am laughing + at the idea of Tasper Britt writing poetry. Let me look out of the window! + Has Burkett Hill tipped over? Has the sun turned in the heavens at high + noon and started back to the east?” + </p> + <p> + “What does it mean?” she asked. Her expression excused the banality of her + query; her eyes told him that she knew, but her ears awaited his + indorsement of her woman's conviction. + </p> + <p> + He pointed to the big calendar on the wall. “It's a valentine,” he said, + gravely. But the twinkle reappeared in his eyes when he added, “And + valentines have always been used for prefaces in the volume of Love.” + </p> + <p> + She did not reflect any of his amusement. She clasped her hands and gazed + down on them, and her forehead was wrinkled with honest distress. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, you have sort of been guessing,” he ventured. “All the + renovating process—the way he has been tiptoeing around and + squinting at you!” + </p> + <p> + She looked up suddenly and caught his gaze; his tone had been hard, but + his eyes were tender. + </p> + <p> + Then it happened! + </p> + <p> + They had been hiding their deeper feelings under the thin coating of + comradeship for a long time. As in the instance of other pent-up + explosives, only the right kind of a jar was needed to “trip” the mass. + </p> + <p> + The threat of a rival—even of such a preposterous rival as Tasper + Britt—served as detonator in the case of Frank Vaniman, and the + explosion of his emotions produced sympathetic results in the girl across + the table from him. He leaped up, strode around to her and put out his + arms, and she rushed into the embrace he offered. + </p> + <p> + But their mutual consolations were denied them—he was obliged to dam + back his choking speech and she her blessed tears. + </p> + <p> + A depositor came stamping in. + </p> + <p> + They were calm, with their customary check on emotions, when they were + free to talk after the man had gone away. + </p> + <p> + “Vona, I did not mean to speak out to you so soon,” he told her. “Not but + what it was in here”—he patted his breast—“and fairly boiling + all the time!” + </p> + <p> + She assured him, with a timid look, that her own emotions had not been + different from his. + </p> + <p> + “But I have respected your obligations,” he went on, with earnest candor. + “And this is the first real job I've ever had. It's best to be honest with + each other.” + </p> + <p> + She agreed fervently. + </p> + <p> + “I wish we could be just as honest with Britt. But we both know what kind + of a man he is. The sentiment of 'Love, and the world well lost' is better + in a book than it is in this bank just now, as matters stand with us. I + have had so many hard knocks in life that I know what they mean, and I + want to save you from them. Isn't it best to go along as we are for a + little while, till I can see my way to get my feet placed somewhere else?” + </p> + <p> + “We must do so, Frank—for the time being.” Her candor matched his. + “I do need this employment for the sake of my folks. Both of us must be + fair to ourselves—not silly. Only—” + </p> + <p> + Her forehead wrinkled again. + </p> + <p> + “I know, Vona! Britt's attentions! I'll take it on myself—” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she broke in, with dignity. “I must make that my own affair. It can + be easily settled. It's pure folly on his part. I'll make him understand + it when I talk with him this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “But I'll feel like a coward,” he protested, passionately. + </p> + <p> + She put up her hand and smiled. “You're not a coward, dear! Nor am I a + hypocrite. We're just two poor toilers who must do the best we can till + the clouds clear away.” + </p> + <p> + She went to him, and when her hands caressed his cheeks he bent down and + kissed her. + </p> + <p> + Then they applied themselves to their tasks in Mr. Britt's bank. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + THE ACHE OF RAPPED KNUCKLES + </h3> + <p> + Landlord Files set forth a boiled dinner that day; he skinched on corned + beef and made up on cabbage; but he economized on fuel, and the cabbage + was underdone. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt, back in his office, allowing his various affairs to be digested—his + dinner, his political project, the valentine—his hopes in general—found + that soggy cabbage to be a particularly tough proposition. He was not + sufficiently imaginative to view his punishment by the intractable cabbage + as a premonitory hint that he was destined to suffer as much in his pride + as he did in his stomach. His pangs took his mind off the other affairs. + He was pallid and his lips were blue when Emissary Orne came waddling into + the office. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Orne, in addition to other characteristics that suggested a fowl, had + a sagging dewlap, and the February nip had colored it into resemblance to + a rooster's wattles. When he came in Mr. Orne's face was sagging, in + general. It was a countenance that was already ridged into an expression + of sympathy. When he set eyes on Britt the expression of woe was touched + up with alarm. But that the alarm had to do with the personal affairs of + Mr. Orne was shown when he inquired apprehensively whether Mr. Britt would + settle then and there for the day's work. + </p> + <p> + The candidate looked up at the office timepiece. “It ain't three o'clock. + I don't call it a day.” + </p> + <p> + “You call it a day in banking. I've got the same right to call it a day in + politics.” + </p> + <p> + “What infernal notion is afoul of you, Orne, grabbing for my money before + you report?” + </p> + <p> + “I do business with a man according to his own rules—and then he's + suited, or ought to be. You collect sharp on the dot after service has + been rendered. So do I.” Mr. Orne was displaying more acute nervous + apprehension. “And the understanding was that you'd leave it to me as your + manager, and wouldn't go banging around, yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Britt found the agent's manner puzzling. “I haven't been out of this + office, except to go to my dinner. I haven't talked politics with + anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” remarked Orne, showing relief. “Perhaps, then, it was the way the + light fell on your face.” He peered closely at his client. Mr. Britt's + color was coming back. Orne's cryptic speeches and his haste to collect + had warmed the banker's wrath. “It'll be ten dollars, as we agreed.” + </p> + <p> + Britt yanked a big wallet from his breast pocket, plucked out a bill, and + shoved it at Orne. The latter set the bill carefully into a big wallet of + his own, “sunk” the calfskin, and buttoned up his buffalo coat. + </p> + <p> + “It does beat blazes,” stated “Sniffer” Orne, “what a messed up state all + politics is in since this prim'ry business has put the blinko onto + caucuses and conventions. Caucuses was sensible, Mr. Britt. Needn't tell + me! Voters liked to have the wear and tear off 'em. Now a voter gets into + that booth and has to caucus by himself, and he's either so puffed up by + importance that he thinks he's the whole party or else—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt's patience was ground between the millstones of anger and + indigestion. He smacked the flat of his hand on his desk. “When I want a + stump speech out of you, Orne, I'll drop you a postcard and give you + thirty days' notice so that you can get up a good one. You have made a + short day of it, as I said, but you needn't feel called on to fill it up + with a lecture.” Mr. Britt continued on pompously and revealed that he + placed his own favorable construction on the emissary's early return from + the field. “You didn't have to go very far, hey, to find out how I stand + for that nomination?” + </p> + <p> + “I went far enough so that you can depend on what I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead and tell, then.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Orne slowly fished a quill toothpick from the pocket of his overcoat, + set the end of the quill in his mouth, and “sipped” the air sibilantly, + gazing over Britt's head with professional gravity. “Of course, you're the + doctor in this case and are paying the money, and if you don't want any + soothing facts, like I was intending to throw in free of charge and for + good measure, showing how the best of politicians—” + </p> + <p> + There were ominous sounds from the direction of Britt. Orne checked his + discourse, but he did not look at the candidate. “But no matter,” said the + agent. “That may be neither here nor there. You're the doctor, I say! When + I first came in here I thought you had been disobeying my orders and had + dabbled into the thing. Your face looked like you was posted.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm paying for the goods, not for gobbling, you infernal old turkey! Come + out with the facts!” + </p> + <p> + “Facts is that the whole thing is completely gooly-washed up,” stated Mr. + Orne, with an oracle's decisiveness. + </p> + <p> + But that declaration in Mr. Orne's political terminology did not convey + much information to the candidate. Britt, thoroughly incensed by what + seemed to be evasion, leaped up, twitched the toothpick from Orne's lips, + and flung it away. “I've paid for the English language, and I want it + straight and in short words, and not trigged by a toothpick.” + </p> + <p> + “All right! You're licked before you start.” + </p> + <p> + It was a bit too straight from the shoulder—that piece of news! + Britt blinked as if he had received a blow between the eyes. He sat down + and stared at Orne, elbows on the arms of the chair, hands limply hanging + from lax wrists. + </p> + <p> + “It's this way!” Mr. Orne started, briskly, with upraised forefinger; but + he shook his head and put down his hand. He turned away. “I forgot. You + ordered plain facts.” + </p> + <p> + “You hold on!” Britt thundered. “How do you dare to tell me that you can + go out and in fifteen minutes come back with information of that sort?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Orne glanced reproachfully from his detractor to the clock; he had not + the same reasons as Mr. Britt had for finding the hours of the day + fleeting. “Mr. Britt, a man doesn't need to make a hoss of himself and eat + a whole head of cabbage by way of sampling it.” Britt winced at the random + simile. “It's the same way with me in sampling politics, being an expert. + Your case, to start with, had me gy-poogled and—” + </p> + <p> + “English language, I tell you!” Britt emphasized his stand as a stickler + by a tremendous thump of his fist on the desk. + </p> + <p> + Orne jabbed his finger back and forth from his breast to the direction of + Britt, with the motions of the “eeny, meeny” game. “I was mistook. You was + mistook. I figgered on your money. So did you. I figgered you'd go strong + in politics like you had in <i>finance</i>. So did you.” Mr. Orne put his + hand up sidewise and sliced the air. “Nothing doing in politics, Mr. + Britt! You can cash in on straight capital, but there ain't a cent in the + dollar for you when you try to collect in what you 'ain't ever invested. A + man don't have to be so blamed popular after he is well settled in + politics; but you've got to have some real human-nature assets to get a + start with. You've got to depend on given votes—not the boughten + ones.” + </p> + <p> + “Orne, you're rasping me mighty hard.” + </p> + <p> + “You demanded facts—not hair-oil talk.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the facts are—” Britt hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Facts is that, by the usual arrangement in the legislative class of + towns, Egypt had the choice this year. You won't get a vote in Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + “But the men who come in here—” Again Britt halted in a sentence. + </p> + <p> + “The men who come in here and sit down at that desk and pick up a pen to + sign a note have fixed on their grins before they open your door. But the + men who get into a voting booth alone with God and a lead pencil, they'll + jab down on to that ballot a cross for t'other candidate that'll look like + a dent in a tin dipper. Somebody else might lie to you about the + situation, Mr. Britt. I've done consid'able lying in politics, too. But + when I'm hired by a man to deliver goods—and same has been paid for—my + word can be depended on.” + </p> + <p> + Britt turned around and looked into the depths of his desk, staring + vacantly. His rounded shoulders suggested grief. Orne settled his wallet + more firmly, pressing on the outside of the buffalo coat. His face again + sagged with sympathy. “Mr. Britt, it's only like what most of us do in + this life—take smiles without testing 'em with acid—take + words-current for what they seem to be worth, and then we do test 'em out + and—” + </p> + <p> + Britt whirled and broke on this fatuous preachment with an oath. Mr. Orne + thriftily withheld further sympathy; it was plainly wasted. + </p> + <p> + “Orne, I hope it's about due to revise the New Testament again. I want to + send in some footnotes for that page where Judas Iscariot is mentioned. I + want a full roster of his descendants to appear; I'll furnish the voting + list of this town. Get out of here and pass that word.” + </p> + <p> + But a yelp from the candidate halted the departing Orne at the door. + “Seeing that you have my ten dollars and are full of political + information, perhaps you'll throw in free of charge who it is this town is + going to send to the legislature!” + </p> + <p> + “Only one thing has been decided on so far,” returned the politician. + “And, having no desire to rub it in, I'll let you draw your own + conclusions.” Mr. Orne had the door open; he dodged out and slammed the + door shut. + </p> + <p> + It was promptly opened—so promptly that Mr. Britt was fairly caught + at what he was about. He was standing up, shaking both fists at the door + and cursing roundly. Vona was gazing at him in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “I was waiting in the corridor, sir, till you—till your business—till + Mr. Orne went away,” she stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” muttered Britt, even more disconcerted than the girl. + </p> + <p> + Then he wished that he had told her to go away. He realized that he was in + no mood or condition to woo; the cabbage had tortured him, but this new + sort of indigestion in the very soul of him had left him without poise or + courage. + </p> + <p> + He slumped down in his chair and waved a limp hand in invitation for her + to take a seat near him. But she merely came and stood in the middle of + the room and surveyed him with an uncompromising air of business. From the + velvet toque, with just a suggestion of a coquettish cant on her brown + curls, down her healthily round cheeks, a bit flushed, above the fur + neckpiece that clasped her throat, Britt's fervent eyes strayed. And some + of the words of the Prophet's singsong monotone echoed in the empty + chambers of Britt's consciousness, “'Thou hast dove's eyes within thy + locks—thy lips are like a thread of scarlet.'” + </p> + <p> + But she was aloof. She held herself rigidly erect. Her eyes were coldly + inquiring. Those lips were set tightly. Mr. Britt had just been reaching + out for honors, and his knuckles had been rapped cruelly. He wanted to + reach out for love—and he dared not. The girl, as she stood there, + was so patently among the things he was not able to possess! + </p> + <p> + She had come into his presence with expectation keenly alert, with her + fears putting her into a mental posture of defense. She felt that she knew + just what was going to happen, and she was assuring herself that she would + be able to meet the situation. But she was not prepared for what did + happen. She did not understand Britt's mental state of that moment. Mr. + Britt, himself, did not understand. He had never been up against + conditions of that sort. He had not had time to fix his face and his mood, + as he did daily before the mirror in his bedroom. He did what nobody had + ever seen him do—what neither he nor the girl would have predicted + one minute before as among human probabilities—he broke down and + blubbered like a whipped urchin. + </p> + <p> + And after he had recovered some of his composure and was gazing up at her + again, sniffling and scrubbing his reddened eyes with the bulge at the + base of his thumb, knowing that he must say something by way of legitimate + excuse, dreading the ridicule that a girl's gossip might bring upon him, a + notion that was characteristic of Mr. Britt came to him: he grimly weighed + the idea of telling her that Files's boiled dinner was the cause of his + breakdown. However, in his weakness, his love flamed more hotly than ever + before. + </p> + <p> + “Vona, I'm so lonesome!” he gulped. + </p> + <p> + Miss Harnden had entered behind her shield, nerved like a battling Amazon. + She promptly lowered that shield and became all woman, with a woman's + instinctive sympathetic understanding, but womanlike, she took the + opportunity to introduce for her own defense a bit of guile with her + sympathy. “I quite understand how you feel about the loss of Mrs. Britt, + sir. And I'm glad because you remain so loyal to her memory.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt, like a man who had received a dipperful of cold water in the + face, backed away from anything like a proposal at that unpropitious + moment. But in all his arid nature he felt the need of some sort of + consolation from a feminine source. “Vona, I've just had a terrible + setback,” he mourned. “There's only one other disappointment that could be + any worse—and I don't dare to think of that right now.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Harnden apprehensively proceeded to keep him away from the + prospective disappointment, dwelling on the present, asking him + solicitously what had happened. + </p> + <p> + He told her of his ambition and of what Ossian Orne had reported. + </p> + <p> + “But why should that be so very important for a man like you—to go + to the legislature—Mr. Britt?” + </p> + <p> + He opened his mouth, hankering to blurt out what he had been treasuring as + dreams whose realization would serve as an inducement to her. He had been + picturing to himself their honeymoon at the state capital, away from the + captious tongues of Egypt—how he would stalk with his handsome bride + into the dining room of the capital's biggest hotel; how she would attract + the eyes of jealous men, in her finery and with her jewels; how she would + sit in the gallery at the State House and survey him making his bigness + among the lawmakers; for some weeks he had been laboring on the + composition of a speech that he intended to deliver. But her second dash + of cold water kept him from the disclosure of his feelings. He went on so + far as to ask her if she did not think a session at the state capital + would be interesting. + </p> + <p> + “I have never thought anything about such a matter, of course, Mr. Britt, + being only a girl and not a politician.” + </p> + <p> + “But women who are there get into high society and wear fine clothes and + have a grand time, Vona.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be a tedious life,” she replied, indifferently. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't you like to try it?” Now that he could not offer her the grand + inducement he had planned as an essential part of his campaign of love he + sought consolation in her assurance that the prospect did not tempt her. + His hopes revived. He was reflecting that his money could buy railroad + tickets, even if he had not the popularity with which to win votes. She + shook her head promptly when he asked the question, and he went on with + his new idea. “I suppose what a girl really enjoys is to see the world, + after she has been penned up all her life in a town like this.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't waste my time in foolish longings, Mr. Britt. In fact, I have no + time to waste on anything.” She gave him a bit of a smile. “In that + connection I'll confess that I must hurry home and help mother with some + sewing. Did you want anything especial of me?” Her smile had vanished, and + in her tone there was a clink of the metallic that was as subtly + suggestive of “On guard” as the click of a trigger. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt had planned upon a radiant disclosing of his projects—expecting + to be spurred in his advances by the assurance of what he could offer her + as the consort of a legislator—as high an honor as his narrow vision + could compass. She had found him cursing, had kept him at bay, and he had + already had evidence of the danger of precipitateness in her case. And his + tears made him feel foolish. His ardor had been wet down; it took a back + seat. His natural good judgment was again boss of the situation. + </p> + <p> + “I had something on my mind—but it can wait till you're in less of a + hurry, Vona. Never neglect a mother. That's my attitude toward women. I'm + always considerate where they're concerned. It's my nature. I hope you'll + hold that in mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mr. Britt.” She turned and hurried to the door, getting away from a + fire that was showing signs of breaking out of its smoldering brands once + more. + </p> + <p> + Britt recovered some of his courage when her back was turned. “You haven't + said anything about those verses,” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “I think it's a beautiful way of putting aside your business cares for a + time. I'm taking them home to read to mother.” + </p> + <p> + He marched to the window and watched her as long as she was in sight. + </p> + <p> + Then he glowered on such of the Egyptians as passed to and fro along the + street on their affairs. He muttered, spicing his comments with profanity. + The girl's disclaimer of personal interest in Britt's ambitions did not + soften his rancorous determination to make the voters of Egypt suffer for + the stand they had taken—suffer to the bitter limit to which + unrelenting persecution could drive them. He gritted his teeth and raved + aloud. “From now on! From now on! Anything short of murder to show 'em! + And as for that girl—if there's somebody—” + </p> + <p> + Britt stopped short of what that rival might expect, but his expression + indicated that the matter was of even more moment than his affair with the + voters of the town. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + “AND PHARAOH'S HEART WAS HARDENED” + </h3> + <p> + When Vona left him that afternoon, Vaniman paced the floor. + </p> + <p> + She had gone bravely to her meeting with Britt, bearing Frank's kiss on + her cheek—a caress of encouragement when he had walked with her to + the door in order to lock it after her. + </p> + <p> + It was not worry that caused him to tramp to and fro, frowning. Vona's + demeanor of self-reliance had helped his feelings a great deal. But the + corollary of devoted love is chivalry, and he felt that he was allowing + her to do something that belonged to him to so, somehow. The policy which + they had so sanely discussed did not seem to be such a comfortable course + when he was alone, wondering what was going on across the corridor. + </p> + <p> + At last the sound of a door and the click of her heels signaled the end of + the interview. He hoped that she would come back into the bank, making an + excuse of something forgotten, in order to give him a soothing bulletin. + He ran to the door and opened it. But the slam of the outside door + informed him that she had gone on her way. Her prompt departure indicated + that she was consistently pursuing the level-headed policy they had + adopted; but the young man, impatient and wondering, was wishing she had + taken a change, for once, even to the prejudice of policy. He shut his + door and hurried to the window. + </p> + <p> + Though two men were watching her going-away, and though she must have been + conscious of the fact, she did not turn her head to glance behind her. + </p> + <p> + At any rate, the thing was over, whatever had happened, the cashier + reflected with relief. Nevertheless, curiosity was nagging at him; he felt + an impulse to go in and inspect the condition of Tasper Britt by way of + securing a hint. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman, however, shook his head and dropped into the routine of his + duties. The ruts of life in Egypt, especially in the winter, were deep + ones. The cashier had become contented with his little circle of + occupation and recreation. + </p> + <p> + He carried the books into the vault. He wound the clock that controlled + the mechanism of bolts and bars, and pushed the big outer door shut and + made certain that it was secure. + </p> + <p> + Having finished as cashier, he became janitor. + </p> + <p> + Egypt had no electric lights. Vaniman trimmed the kerosene reflector lamp + and set it on the table so that the front of the safe would be illuminated + for the benefit of the village's night watchman. + </p> + <p> + Then he put on his cap and overcoat and locked the grille door and the + bank door after he had passed each portal. His last chore of the day was + always a trip into the basement to make sure that the dying fire in the + wood furnace was carefully closed in for the night. + </p> + <p> + The basement stairs led from the rear of the corridor. When Vaniman + returned up the stairs he had settled on a small matter of business which + would serve as a valid excuse for entering the presence of President + Britt. But he did not need to employ the excuse. Britt stood in his open + door and called to the cashier and walked back to his chair, leaving + Vaniman to follow, and the employee obeyed the summons with alacrity; he + was consumed with desire to get a line on the situation that had been + troubling him. + </p> + <p> + An observer would have called the contest of mutual inspection a + fifty-fifty break—perhaps with a shade in favor of Britt, for the + usurer's face was like leather and his goggling marbles of eyes under the + lids that resembled little tents did not flicker. + </p> + <p> + “What can I do for you?” Britt demanded, and the query made for the young + man's discomposure. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you called me in, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “Uh-huh!” the president admitted, “but somehow I had the impression that + you said you wanted to see me after the bank closed.” He was taking + account of stock of Vaniman's personality, his eyes going up and down the + stalwart figure and dwelling finally and persistently on the young man's + hair; it was copper-bronze in hue, it had an attractive wave, there was + plenty of it, and it seemed to be very firmly rooted. + </p> + <p> + “I don't remember that I mentioned it, Mr. Britt, but I do have an errand + with you.” + </p> + <p> + “All right! What is it?” Mr. Britt was not revealing any emotions that + Vaniman found illuminating in regard to his particular quest. + </p> + <p> + “I am being tongue-lashed terribly through the wicket. Men won't believe + that I'm obeying the orders of you and the board when accommodation is + refused. Won't you take the matter off my hands—let me refer all to + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't keep a dog and do my own barking,” rasped the president. He + brought his eyes down from the young man's hair and noted that Vaniman + stiffened and was displaying resentment. + </p> + <p> + “That's only a Yankee motto—you needn't take it as personal, + Vaniman. I have turned over to you the running of the bank. I say to all + that you're running it. You ought to feel pretty well set up!” + </p> + <p> + “I obey your orders, sir,” returned the cashier, not warming. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right for an understanding between us two. But I let the + public think you're the whole thing. I tell 'em I've got full confidence + in you. You don't want the public to think you're only a rubber stamp, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “The general opinion right now seems to be that I'm either a first-class + liar or Shylock sentenced to a second term on earth,” retorted Vaniman, + with bitterness. + </p> + <p> + There was a long silence in the room, where the early dusk was deepening. + The two men regarded each other with expressions that did not soften. + </p> + <p> + After a time Britt turned to his desk, unlocked a compartment, and + produced a letter, which he unfolded slowly, again staring hard at the + cashier. + </p> + <p> + “Speaking of being sentenced!” There was something ominous in his drawl. + “You told me a whole lot about yourself, Vaniman, when I was talking of + hiring you. But there was one important thing you didn't mention—mighty + important, seeing that you wanted a job as boss of a bank.” He tapped the + open letter. “I've had this letter for a good many weeks, not saying + anything about it to you or anybody else. I'm not sure just why I'm saying + anything now.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman flushed. His face worked with emotion. He put up his hand and + started to speak, but Britt put up a more compelling hand and went on. “I + reckon I'm bringing this matter up so that you'll know just where you + stand—so that you'll mind your eye and look out for my interests in + every way from now on—so that—” He hesitated a moment. His + eyes flamed. “So that you'll know your place! That's it! Know your place—and + be mighty careful how you go against me in anything—anything where + I'm interested.” Britt had whipped himself into anger. That anger, fanned + by a flame of jealousy after it had been touched off by his inspection of + youth and good looks, had carried Mr. Britt far. He shook the letter at + the young man. “There's a reliable name signed to this letter; he is a + friend of mine, one of the big financiers in the city, and this was in the + way of friendly warning.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand, Mr. Britt.” The cashier had recovered his self-possession. + “You are warned that my father was sentenced to the penitentiary for + embezzlement. No, I did not mention that to you. It concerned a man who is + dead. It has nothing to do with my honesty.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's another motto about 'blood will tell,'” sneered Britt. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman stepped forward, honestly indignant, manfully resolute. “Let me + tell you, sir, that the letter you hold there—no matter who wrote it—concerns + a <i>good</i> man who is dead. He was the scapegoat of one of those big + financiers.” Vaniman's lip curled. “My father was railroaded to jail on a + track greased with lies—and died because the heart had been ripped + out of him and—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on! It won't get us anywhere to try that case all over, Vaniman. Let + the letter stand as it is—it was probably meant in the right spirit. + But I didn't write it. You and I better not fight over it. I've shown, by + laying it away and saying nothing, that I have a decent nature in me. I + hope I'll never have any need to take it out of this desk again.” He + turned and shoved the paper back and locked the compartment. + </p> + <p> + “I think it is best for me to resign, Mr. Britt.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be a fool, young man. Now that this thing is off our minds there's + a better understanding between us than ever. I don't think—I hope”—he + surveyed Vaniman with leisure in which there was the suggestion of a + threat—“I'll never have any occasion to take that letter out again. + Er—ah—” Britt joggled a watch charm and inquired, casually, + “Would you plan on getting married if I boost your wages a little?” + </p> + <p> + In spite of an effort to control himself under Britt's basilisk stare, + Vaniman showed how much the query had jumped him. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, a chap like you has had his sweetheart down in the city,” + pursued the inquisitor when the young man failed to answer. “Must be one + there now.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no sweetheart in the city, Mr. Britt.” + </p> + <p> + Then there was a longer silence in the room. The cashier was not enduring + inspection with an air that did credit to his promise to keep a secret. + Britt had made a breach in the wall of Vaniman's mental defense by the + means of that letter and its implied accusation; Britt was taking + advantage of that breach. Right then the young man was in a mood that + would have prompted him to fling the truth and his defiance at Britt if + the latter had kept on to the logical conclusion of his interrogation and + had asked whether there was a sweetheart elsewhere; Vaniman had the + feeling that by denying his love at that moment—to that man of all + others—he would be dealing insult to Vona Harnden, as well as taking + from her the protection that his affection gave her. + </p> + <p> + The attention of Britt was diverted from the quarry he was pursuing. + </p> + <p> + Outside Britt Block, Prophet Elias raised his voice in his regular “vesper + service.” It was his practice, on his way to Usial Britt's cottage from + his daily domiciliary visits, to halt in front of the bank and deliver a + few texts. The first one—and the two men in the office listened—was + of the general tenor of those addressed to “Pharaoh.” Said the Prophet, in + resounding tones, “'As a roaring lion and a ranging bear, so is a wicked + ruler over the poor people.'” + </p> + <p> + “Vaniman, go out and tell that old hoot owl to move on! I'm in a dangerous + frame of mind to-day.” Britt's lips were pulled tightly against his yellow + teeth. + </p> + <p> + The Prophet's next deliverance was more concretely to the point—indicating + that the exhorter was not so much wrapped up in religion that he had no + ear out for the political news current in Egypt that day, “'Pride goeth + before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.'” + </p> + <p> + There was a fireplace in the office and Britt leaped to it and grabbed a + poker. The cashier was moved to interfere, urged by two compelling + motives. He wanted to get away from his own dangerous situation of the + moment in that office—and he wanted to protect the old man outside + from assault. “I'll attend to him, sir!” But he halted at the door and + turned. “Mr. Britt, our talk has driven an important matter from my mind. + The men who bellow at me through the wicket have considerable to say about + our hoarding specie. It makes me uneasy to have that sort of gossip going + the rounds.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll have the money out of here in a short time, Vaniman, as I have told + you. That broker says that foreign money is going lower yet—and + seeing that we've taken all this trouble to get the hard cash ready for + the deal, we may as well make the clean-up as big as we can.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think we'd better hire a couple of good men with rifles and put + 'em in the bank nights, sir?” + </p> + <p> + President Britt declared with scorn that the expense was not necessary, + that putting guards in the bank would only start more talk, and that it + also would be essential to hire old Ike Jones to sit in front of the vault + and play all night on his trombone to keep awake any two men picked from + Egypt. While Britt was expressing his opinion of inefficiency and expense, + the Prophet was furnishing this obbligato outside, “'He that by usury and + unjust gain increaseth his substance, he shall gather it for him that will + pity the poor.'” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman closed the door on Britt's objurgations. + </p> + <p> + The young man did not find it necessary to prevail upon the Prophet to + give over his discourse. As soon as the emissary appeared Elias folded his + ample umbrella, tucked it under his arm, gave Vaniman a friendly greeting, + and winked at him. The twilight dimmed the seamed face and the young man + wondered whether he had been mistaken about the sly suggestiveness of that + wink. + </p> + <p> + “Joseph, how doth Pharaoh rest on his throne? Doth he sit easy?” + </p> + <p> + Always in their brief but good-natured interviews the evangelist called + the young man “Joseph.” Elias took Vaniman's arm and walked along with + him. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid, Prophet Elias, that you'll provoke Mr. Britt too far. Take my + advice. Keep away from him for a time.” + </p> + <p> + “'There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yeah, four which I + know not: the way of an eagle in the air, the way of a serpent upon a + rock, the way of a ship in the midst of the sea, and the way of a man with + a maid,'” said the Prophet, placidly. “Furthermore, 'The proud have digged + pits for me.' Joseph, the pitfalls encompass thee.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman refrained from making a reply; the Prophet was displaying an + embarrassing amount of sapience as to conditions. + </p> + <p> + In front of Usial Britt's cot they halted and the eccentric leaned close + to Vaniman's ear. “Joseph, my son, keep thine eye peeled.” He released the + cashier's arm and strode to the door of Usial's house. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman, delaying his departure, noted that the door did not give way when + the Prophet wrenched at the knob. The guest banged his fist against a + panel. “Let it be opened unto me!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + His voice served as his guaranty; Usial Britt opened the door and slammed + it shut so suddenly after the Prophet had entered that it was necessary to + reopen the portal and release the tail of Elias's robe. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + “THE HORNET” GOES TO PRESS + </h3> + <p> + Vaniman did not go on his way at once, though, by his daily routine, he + was headed toward his bit of recreation which cheered the end of his day + of occupation. Every afternoon he dropped in at the office of Notary Amos + Hexter—“Squire” Hexter, the folks of Egypt called him—and + played euchre with the amiable old chap. After the euchre, the Squire and + Frank trudged over to the Hexter home; the cashier boarded with the Squire + and his wife, Xoa. + </p> + <p> + In his general uneasiness, in his hankering for any sort of information + that would help his affairs, the young man was tempted to follow the + provocative Elias and pin him down to something definite; the flashes of + shrewd sanity in the fanatic's mouthings had encouraged Frank to believe + that the Prophet was not quite as much of an ingenuous lunatic as his gab + and garb suggested. + </p> + <p> + Right away, curiosity of another sort added its impulse. + </p> + <p> + Usial's windows were uncurtained, though the grime on them helped to + conceal activities within by a sort of ground-glass effect. But Vaniman + could see well enough to understand what was going on. Every once in a + while a canvas flap came over in a half circle across Vaniman's line of + vision through one of the windows. Then a hairy arm turned a crank + briskly; a moment later the arm pulled at a horizontal bar with vigor. + </p> + <p> + It was plain that Usial Britt was printing. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman had seen the shoemaker's printing equipment in common with + everybody else who dropped into the shop. There were a few cases of worn + type; there was a venerable Washington hand press. Vaniman had even been + down on his knees, by Usial's invitation, and had peered up at the under + surface of the imposing stone. + </p> + <p> + When Tasper Britt wanted a burial lot in the Egypt cemetery of a size + sufficient to set off his statue in good shape, he secured a hillock in + which some of the patriarchs of the pioneers had been interred. There was + no known descendants to say him nay. A fallen slate slab that had been + long concealed in the tangled grass was tossed over the cemetery fence by + the men who cleared up the hillock. Usial Britt considered the slab a + legitimate find and with it replaced a marble imposing stone that had + become gouged and cracked. Vaniman had found the inscription interesting + when he knelt and peered up: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Here Lies the Body of THOSPIT WAGG, + In Politics a Whig. + By Occupation a Cooper in a Hoop-pole Town. + Now Food for Worms. + Here I Lie, Like an Old Rum Puncheon, + Marked, Numbered and Shooked, + To be Raised at Last and Finished by the Hand of My Maker. +</pre> + <p> + As Egypt knew, Usial Britt did not print for profit. He accepted no pay of + any sort for the product of his press. When the spirit moved, or he felt + that the occasion demanded comment in print, he “stuck” the worn type, + composing directly from the case without first putting his thoughts on + paper, and printed and issued a sheet which he titled <i>The Hornet</i>. + Sometimes <i>The Hornet</i> buzzed blandly—more often it stung + savagely. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman obeyed his impulse; he went to the door and knocked. He had always + found Usial Britt in a sociable mood. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” inquired the shoemaker. + </p> + <p> + “Vaniman of the bank.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave your job, whatever it is, on the threshold, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not bringing you any work, Mr. Britt.” + </p> + <p> + “Then kindly pass on; I'm in executive session, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The grumble of the cogs and the squeak of the press went on. + </p> + <p> + So did Vaniman, after he had waited at the door for a few moments. + </p> + <p> + Squire Hexter had a corner of his table cleaned of paper litter, in + readiness for the euchre game. + </p> + <p> + He was tilted back in his chair, smoking his blackened T. D. pipe, and a + swinging boot was scraping to and fro along the spine of a fuzzy old dog + whose head was meditatively lowered while he enjoyed the scratching. The + Squire called the old dog “Eli”; that name gave Hexter a frequent + opportunity to turn his little joke about having owned another dog that he + called “Uli” and presented to a brother lawyer as an appropriate gift. + </p> + <p> + The Squire had little dabs of whiskers on his cheeks like fluffs of cotton + batting, and his wide mouth linked those dabs when he smiled. + </p> + <p> + He came forward promptly in his chair, slapped his palm on the waiting + pack of cards, and cut for the deal while Vaniman was throwing off his + coat. + </p> + <p> + “Judging by signs, as I came past Britt's shop, <i>The Hornet</i> is + getting ready to buzz again,” said the cashier. + </p> + <p> + “Aye! I reckoned as much. I have looked across there from time to time + to-day and have seen customers knocking in vain on the door. It's your + deal, boy!” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman shuffled obediently. + </p> + <p> + “And there was a run-in this morning between your boss and his brother,” + observed the Squire, scratching a match. “And Eli, here, called my + attention to the fact that two sun dogs, strangers to him, were chasing + along with the sun all the forenoon. Signs of trouble, boy—sure + signs!” He sorted his cards. It was more of the Squire's regular line of + humor to ascribe to Eli various sorts of comment and counsel. + </p> + <p> + “How crazy do you think Prophet Elias is?” inquired the young man, + avoiding further reference to his employer. + </p> + <p> + “After listening many times to the testimony of expert alienists in court + trials I have come to the conclusion that all the folks in the world are + crazy, son, or else nobody is ever crazy. I don't think I'll express any + opinion on the Prophet. I might find myself qualifying as an alienist + expert. I'd hate to!” + </p> + <p> + After that mild rebuff Vaniman gave all his mind to the game—for + when the Squire played euchre he wanted to attend strictly to the business + in hand. And in the span of time between dusk and supper the two were + rarely interrupted. + </p> + <p> + But on this afternoon they were out of luck. + </p> + <p> + Men came tramping up the screaking outside stairs that conducted to the + office; the Squire had a room over Ward's general store. + </p> + <p> + The men were led into the office by Isaac Jones—“Gid-dap Ike,” he + was named—the driver of the mail stage between Egypt and the + railroad at Levant. + </p> + <p> + For a moment Squire Hexter looked really alarmed. There were half a dozen + men in the party and he was not accustomed to irruptions of numbers. Then + his greeting smile linked his whisker tufts. Mr. Jones and his party + pulled off their hats and by their demeanor of awkward dignity stood + convicted as being members of a delegation formally presenting themselves. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, boys! Have chairs. Excuse the momentary hesitation. I was afraid + you had come after me with a soaped rope.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon we won't set,” stated Mr. Jones. “And we'll be straight and to + the point, seeing that a game is on. Squire Hexter, me and these gents + represent the voters of Egypt. We ask you to accept the nomination to the + legislature from this town for next session. So say I.” + </p> + <p> + “So say we all!” chorused the other men. + </p> + <p> + The Squire set the thumb and forefinger of each hand into a whisker fluff + and twisted a couple of spills, squinting at them. “The compliment is + esteemed, boys. But the previousness is perplexing. This is February, and + the primaries are not till June.” + </p> + <p> + “Squire Hexter, it ain't too early to show a man in this town where he + gets off. That man is Tasper Britt. He has had ten dollars' worth of + telling to-day by 'Sniffer' Orne. But telling ain't showing. What do you + say?” + </p> + <p> + The Squire gave Jones a whimsical wink and indicated the attentive Vaniman + with a jab of the thumb. “S-s-sh! Look out, or the rate of interest will + go up.” + </p> + <p> + Jones and his associates scowled at the cashier, and Vaniman understood + with added bitterness the extent of his vicarious atonement as Britt's + mouthpiece at the wicket of the bank. + </p> + <p> + “The interest-payers of this town have been well dreened. But the voters—the + <i>voters</i>, understand, still have assets. The voters have got to the + point where they ain't afraid of Tasper Britt. The cashier of his bank can + so report to him, if the said cashier so chooses—and, as cashier, + probably will.” + </p> + <p> + “The cashier will attend strictly and exclusively to his bank duties, and + to nothing else,” declared Vaniman, with heat. + </p> + <p> + “Hope you're enjoying 'em, such as they are of late,” Jones retorted. “But + once again, what say, Squire Hexter?” + </p> + <p> + “Boys, you'd better get somebody else to sandpaper Tasper Britt with. I'm + not gritty enough.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll come across with our full idea, Squire. It ain't simply to sandpaper + Britt with that we want you to go. But we need some kind of legislation to + help this town out of the hole. We don't know where we are. We can't raise + money to pay state taxes, and we ain't getting our school money from the + state, nor any share of the roads appropriation, nor—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, Ike,” broke in the Squire, not requiring any legal posting from a + layman. “But it's the lobbyist, instead of the legislator, who really + counts at the state capital. I've been planning to do a little lobbying at + the next session. I'll tell you now that I'll go, and, by hooking a clean + collar around each ankle under my socks, I'll be prepared for a two weeks' + stay. Send somebody else to work for the state and I'll go and work for + Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + “The voters want you,” Jones insisted. + </p> + <p> + The Squire rapped his toe against the old dog at his feet. “What say, + Eli?” + </p> + <p> + “Wuff!” the dog replied, emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “Can't go as a legislator, boys! Eli says 'No.'” + </p> + <p> + “This ain't no time for joking,” growled the spokesman. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not!” The Squire snapped back his retort briskly. He was + serious. “I agree with you that this poor old town needs help and a + hearing. But when I go to the State House I propose to wear out shoe + leather instead of pants cloth. If you must rasp Britt, go get a real + file!” + </p> + <p> + “Who in the blazes can we get?” demanded Jones, helplessly. + </p> + <p> + The Squire laid down the hand of cards which he had just picked up, thus + signaling the end of the interview, impatiently motioning to Vaniman to + play; then the notary narrowed his eyes and pondered. + </p> + <p> + The silence was broken by more screaking of the outside stairs. + </p> + <p> + Prophet Elias stalked into the office. He carried limp, damp sheets across + a forearm—papers that had been well wet down in order to take + impressions from the Washington press. The men in the room waited for one + of his sonorous promulgations of biblical truth. But he said no word, and + his silence was more impressive because it was unwonted. He marched + straight to the Squire and gave him one of the sheets. Then the Prophet + turned and strode toward the door. Jones put out his hand, asking for one + of the papers. Elias shook his head. “Yon scribe has a voice. Let him read + aloud. I have but few papers—they must be spent thriftily.” He + passed on and went out. + </p> + <p> + “One of the city newspapers ought to hire him for a newsboy,” remarked Mr. + Jones, acridly. “He could scare up a big circulation.” + </p> + <p> + The only light in the dim room was afforded by the big lamp at the + Squire's elbow. He spread the sheet on the table in the lamp's circle of + radiance. “Boys, <i>The Hornet</i> is out and it looks as if it has a barb + in its stinger,” he stated, and then paused while he fixed his spectacles + upon his nose. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman, sitting close by, felt that a glance at a public sheet was not + invading privacy. + </p> + <p> + A smutted heading in wood type was smeared across the top of the page. It + counseled: + </p> + <p> + VOTE FOR BRITT. GIVE PHARAOH HIS KINGLY CROWN + </p> + <p> + There was a broad, blank space in one of the upper corners of the sheet. + Under the space was this explanation: + </p> + <p> + Portrait of Tasper Britt, with his latest improvements. But, on second + thought, out of regard for the feelings of our readers, we omit the + portrait. + </p> + <p> + The Squire, getting control of emotions which the observing Jones and his + associates noted with rising interest, demurely explained to them the + layout of the page after he had carefully inspected the sheet. + </p> + <p> + Then Squire Hexter began to read aloud, in a tone whose twist of satire + gave the text its full flavor: + </p> + <p> + “We hasten to proclaim in the land of Egypt that Pharaoh Britt has reached + for the scepter, though he had not loosed his grip on the gouge. You will + know him here and hereafter by his everlasting grip on the gouge. He will + take that gouge to Tophet with him. Then it will be heated red-hot and he + will prance around hell astraddle of it. But in the meantime he is hot + after the honors of this world. Give him his crown, say we. He has + prepared a nice, new hair mattress on his brow where the diadem will rest + easy. Under his coat of arms—to wit, a yellow he-goat rampant in a + field of purple thistles—let him write the word 'Victory.'” + </p> + <p> + The men in that room were Yankees, with a sense of humor as keen as a new + bush scythe. + </p> + <p> + The Squire sat back and wiped his spectacles and beamed on their laughter. + Then he read on down the column, through the biting satire to the bitter + end, having an audience whose hilarity would have delighted a vaudeville + performer's soul. + </p> + <p> + Therefore, it was with inspired unction that the reader delivered the “tag + lines” of the screed. + </p> + <p> + “We confess that we have a selfish purpose in paying this affectionate, + brotherly tribute to Pharaoh. When he has deigned to refer to us in the + past he has called us 'Useless' Britt. Now, if this tribute has the effect + that we devoutly hope for, Pharaoh may be of a mind to give us back our + right name. We ask nothing else in the way of recompense.” + </p> + <p> + The Squire folded the paper carefully and put it away in his breast pocket + with the manner of one caching a treasure. “Boys, what are you waiting + for?” he inquired, with an affectation of surprise. + </p> + <p> + Their wide grins narrowed into the creases of wonderment of their own. + </p> + <p> + Hexter patted his breast where he had stowed away the paper. “Egypt has a + literary light, a journalist who wields a pen of power, a shoemaker + philosopher. And modest—not grasping! See how little he asks for + himself. Why not give him a real present? Why not—” + </p> + <p> + Spokesman Jones perceived what the counsel was aiming at and ecstatically + shouted, “Gid-dap!” + </p> + <p> + “Why not use real sandpaper?” urged the squire, with innocent mildness. + </p> + <p> + Jones whirled and drove his delegation ahead of him from the room, both + hands upraised, fingers and thumbs snapping loud cracks as if he were + urging his horses up Burkett Hill with snapping whip. The men went + tramping down the outside stairs, bellowing the first honest-to-goodness + laughter that Egypt had heard for many a day. + </p> + <p> + Squire Hexter leaped up and grabbed his hat and coat from their hooks. + “Come on, boy! It looks as if there's going to be a nominating bee at <i>The + Hornet</i> office—and we mustn't miss any of the buzzing.” + </p> + <p> + The two followed close on the heels of the noisy delegation. + </p> + <p> + Usial Britt opened his door and stood in the frame of light after Jones + had halted his clamorous crowd. The amateur publicist rolled his inky + hands in his apron and showed doubt that was growing into alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your nippety pucket, Usial,” counseled Hexter, calling over the + heads of the men. “The boys had me guessing, too, a few minutes ago. But + this isn't a lynching bee.” + </p> + <p> + However, while the crowd laughed and others came hastening to the scene, + and while Spokesman Jones was trying to make himself heard above the + uproar, an element was added which seemed to discount the Squire's + reassuring words. + </p> + <p> + Tasper Britt rushed out from Files's tavern and stood on the porch. He had + one of the papers in his hand. He ripped the paper to tatters and strewed + about him the bits and stamped on the litter. He shrieked profanity. Then + he leaped off the porch. + </p> + <p> + In the tavern yard was “Gid-dap” Jones's stage pung. Britt yanked the big + whip from its socket and bounced across the street, untangling the lash. + </p> + <p> + “No, you don't!” bellowed Jones, getting in the way and making grabs at + the whip. “Not with my own private persuader! Get aholt of him, men! Down + him. Don't let him whale the representative we're going to send from the + town of Egypt!” + </p> + <p> + That declared hint of what was afoot put the last touch on Tasper Britt's + fury. He fought savagely to force his way through the men. + </p> + <p> + The voice of Usial checked the melee. He shouted with a compelling quality + in his tone. As the man on whom they proposed to bestow the town's highest + honor, he had already acquired new authority. The men loosed Tasper Britt. + </p> + <p> + “This is between brothers,” said Usial. He had stepped from his doorway. + He stood alone. “What outsider dares to interfere?” + </p> + <p> + Tasper Britt employed his freedom promptly and brutally; he leaped along + the avenue the men left for him and began to lash Usial with the whip. The + stolid townsfolk of Egypt stood in their tracks. + </p> + <p> + “That's the best way—let 'em fight it out,” counseled Spokesman + Jones. “Tasp Britt will get his, and it'll be in the family!” + </p> + <p> + But Usial merely tossed his big apron over his head and crouched and took + the lashing. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't somebody going to stop that?” Vaniman demanded. + </p> + <p> + Nobody moved. Egypt had its own ideas about interference in family + matters, it seemed, and had been tartly reminded of those ideas by Usial + Britt himself. + </p> + <p> + But Vaniman was an outlander. He saw his employer disgracing himself; he + beheld an unresisting victim cruelly maltreated. + </p> + <p> + The young man jumped on Tasper Britt and tried to hold his arms. When + Britt whirled and broke loose by the twist of his quick turn and struck + the cashier with the whip, Vaniman wrested away the weapon, using all his + vigorous strength, and threw it far. Then he seized the frothing assailant + and forced him back toward the tavern. “Mr. Britt, remember what you are—the + president of our bank—a prominent man—” Vaniman gasped, + protesting. “When you're yourself you'll thank me!” + </p> + <p> + But there was no sign of gratitude in Britt's countenance just then. His + crazed rage was shifted to this presumptuous person who had interfered and + was manhandling him; at that moment the liveliest emotion in Britt was the + mordant jealousy that he had been trying to stifle. It awoke and raged, + finding real excuse for the venting of its rancor on the man who had made + him jealous. + </p> + <p> + “You damnation spawn of a jailbird—” + </p> + <p> + The young man had a rancor of his own that he had been holding in leash + ever since he had sent Vona to fight her own battle, with his kiss on her + cheek. He broke off that vitriolic taunt by dealing Britt an open-handed + slap across the mouth, a blow of such force that the man went reeling + backward. And when Britt beheld Vaniman's face, as the young man came + resolutely along, the magnate of Egypt kept going backward of his own + accord, flapping hands of protest. “Vaniman, here and now I discharge you + from the bank.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Britt, that's a matter for the vote of the directors—and I'll + wait to hear from them.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman whirled from Britt, for the impulse was in him to smash his + doubled fist into that hateful visage; his palm still itched; the + open-handed buffet had not satisfied the tingling nerves of that hand. + </p> + <p> + Usial Britt had not hurried about raising himself from his crouching + position. He was standing with his apron over his head and faced the + citizens. He was smiling—an irradiating, genial, triumphant sort of + smile! One might readily have taken him for the victor in a contest! + </p> + <p> + Spokesman Jones gulped. “We came—we was intending—but this + hoop-te-doo—” + </p> + <p> + Usial beamed blandly and helped out Mr. Jones's efforts to express his + intentions. “Yes, Brother Jones, it was quite a shower while it lasted. + What were you intending to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask you to take the nomination for the legislature.” + </p> + <p> + The crowd indorsed the request with <i>viva-voce</i> enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “I certainly will. I am pleased and proud,” declared Usial. + </p> + <p> + Through the circle of men came Prophet Elias, his robe trailing on his + heels. He stood beside Usial and faced the bystanders. He proclaimed, + “'Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors, through Him that + loved us.'” + </p> + <p> + Somebody handed to Mr. Jones his whip and he inspected it carefully. “Of + course, there's more than one way of fighting a man—and I have my + own notions—but maybe I'm wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Eli has observed many a dog-fight,” Squire Hexter remarked; “and, so far + as he sees, the attacking dog doesn't get much out of the fracas except a + ripped ear and a raw reputation in the neighborhood.” He marched to + Vaniman, took that perturbed young man by the arm, and said that Xoa would + be waiting supper. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + SQUARED OFF AND ALL SET + </h3> + <p> + As Squire Hexter and Vaniman walked on together the notary deferred + comment on the recent happenings, as if he hoped that the cashier would + open up on the topic. But Frank was grimly silent. + </p> + <p> + Therefore the Squire broke the ice. “What kind of a partner does Tasp + Britt make in a polka, son? I saw you and him going at it pretty briskly.” + </p> + <p> + “I stopped him from making a fool of himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite a contract, boy! Quite a contract! And when you got to the matter + of his purple whiskers and his lamp-mat hair—” + </p> + <p> + “I said nothing to Mr. Britt on such a ridiculous topic—certainly + not, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “And yet you brag that you have stopped him from making a fool of + himself,” purred the Squire. “Tut! Tut! He's worse than ever. I heard him + tell you that you're discharged from the bank.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I heard him, too!” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't catch what you answered back.” + </p> + <p> + “I told him I should ask the directors to decide that matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite right! You're sure of one vote for your side—that's mine! And + I think that when President Britt considers that he has no other charge + against you except that you took away a horsewhip that he was using not + wisely but too well—” + </p> + <p> + “I struck him across the mouth.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I missed that,” said the Squire, regretfully. “Why the pat?” + </p> + <p> + “I could not express my feelings in any other way. As to what those + feelings were and why he stirred them, I'll have to ask you to excuse me, + Squire Hexter. If I were going to stay in the bank I would explain the + matter to you and to the directors. But I'm going to resign. Under these + conditions, nobody has the right to tear the heart out of me and stick it + up for a topic of conversation.” + </p> + <p> + The Squire glanced sideways at the convulsed face of the cashier and + opened his eyes wide; but he promptly hid his wonderment and checked an + exclamation that sounded like a question. “I reckon all of us better wait + till morning, son—Tasper and you and I and all the rest.” He looked + up at the bright stars in a hard sky. “A snappy night like this will cool + things off considerable.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll wait till morning, sir! Then I propose to resign,” Frank insisted. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say anything like that in front of Xoa,” pleaded Squire Hexter. “I + don't ever want to see again on her face the look she wore when she + followed our own Frank to the cemetery; now that she has sort of adopted + you, boy, I'm afraid she'll have the same look if she had to follow you to + Ike Jones's stage.” + </p> + <p> + The supper was waiting, as the Squire had predicted; but he took no + chances on sitting at table at once and having her keen woman's eyes + survey Vaniman's somber face; he feared that her solicitude would open up + a dangerous topic. + </p> + <p> + “Leave your biscuits in for a few minutes, Mother,” the Squire urged. + “Let's have some literature for an appetizer.” + </p> + <p> + So he sat down and read the brotherly tribute in the new issue of <i>The + Hornet</i>, and Xoa's eyes glistened behind her spectacles, though she + decorously deplored the heat of the sting dealt by Usial. Frank, watching + her efforts to hide mirth and display womanly concern at this distressing + affair between brothers, forgot some of his own troubles in his amusement. + Therefore the Squire's tactics were successful, and the talk at the supper + table over the hot biscuits and the cold chicken and the damson preserves + was concerned merely with the characters of the brothers Britt. Squire + Hexter did mention, casually, that Frank had succeeded in inducing Tasper + to stop whipping Usial. Xoa reached and patted the young man's arm and + blessed him with her eyes. + </p> + <p> + Frank, as usual, helped Xoa to clear away the supper things. Early in his + stay he had been obliged to beg for permission to do it, and she had + consented at last when he pleaded that it made him feel less like a + boarder in the Hexter home. + </p> + <p> + While she finished her work in the kitchen Vaniman sat with the Squire in + front of the fireplace and smoked his pipe, but not with his customary + comfort; the tobacco seemed to be as bitter as his ponderings; he was + trying to stiffen his resolution to go away from Egypt. + </p> + <p> + Squire Hexter chatted. It was hard to keep off the Britt affair, but the + notary tactfully kept away from the sore center of it. + </p> + <p> + “It has been going on a long time—the trouble between 'em, son. For + two men who look alike outside, they're about as different inside as any + two I've ever known. Tasper has been all for grab! He grabbed away Usial's + share of the home place and then he grabbed Mehitable Dole while she was + keeping company with Usial. I suppose Hittie reckoned there was no choice + in outside looks, but saw considerable inducement in the home place. + Plenty of other women for Usial! Yes! But I can't help thinking that I + might be keeping bach hall in my law office if I hadn't got hold of Xoa in + my young days. So there's Usial! Right in his rut because he's the kind + that stays in a rut. Pegs shoes days and reads books nights. No telling + how the legislature may develop him. Glad he's going.” + </p> + <p> + The Squire rapped out his pipe ashes against an andiron. His posture gave + him an opportunity to say what he said next without meeting Vaniman's + gaze. “Vona Harnden was a mighty smart girl when she was teaching school. + I was superintendent and had a chance to know. Does she take hold well in + the bank?” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman had hard work to make his affirmative sound casual. + </p> + <p> + “Have you met Joe, her father, since you've been in town?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Not surprising, and no great loss. Joe is on the jump a lot—geniusing + around the country. Joe's a real genius.” + </p> + <p> + The young man looked straight into the fire and returned no comment. He + knew well the dry quality of Hexter's satirical humor and perceived that + the notary was indulging in that humor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Joe Harnden is quite an operator, son. Jumps, as I have said. A good + optimist. Jumps up so high every day that he can see over all the + bothersome hills into the Promised Land of Plenty. Only trouble is that + Joe's jumping apparatus is so geared that he only jumps straight up and + lands back in the same place. Now, if only he could jump ahead.” + </p> + <p> + Xoa had come in from the kitchen and was setting out a small table on + which the pachisi board was ready for the evening's regular recreation. + She broke in with protest. “Amos, you shouldn't make fun of the + neighbors!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm complimenting Joe Harnden,” the Squire went on, with serenity. “I'm + saying that when he uses that inventive genius of his on his own jumping + gear he'll leap ahead and make good. For instance, son, here's an example. + Joe invented an anti-stagger shoe—a star-shaped shoe—to be let + out at saloons and city clubs like they lend umbrellas for a fee—and + then the reformers went and passed that prohibition law. Always a little + behind with a grand notion—that's the trouble with Joe!” + </p> + <p> + “Amos, you're making up that yarn about a shoe!” declared Xoa. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if it wasn't an anti-stagger shoe, it was—oh—something,” + insisted the Squire. “At any rate, Joe was in my office to-day. He's home + again. He's all cheered up. He is taking town gossip for face value.” The + notary looked away from Vaniman and gave his wife an ingenuous glance. “Of + course, I don't need to remind you, Xoa, speaking of gossip, that the + folks will have it that Tasp Britt has put on that war paint so as to go + on the trail of a Number Two. And Joe says that, in picking Vona, Britt + has picked right. Joe's a genius in inventing. I'm expecting that he'll + now invent a lie about himself or Britt or somebody else to make that girl + either sorry enough or mad enough to carry out what gossip is predicting.” + </p> + <p> + Xoa had seated herself at the small table and was vigorously rattling the + dice in one of the boxes by way of a hint to the laggard menfolks. “Women + have a soft side, and men come up on that side and take advantage—and + Joe Harnden's mealy mouth has always served him well with his womenfolks—but + I do hope Vona Harnden has got done being fool enough to galley-slave and + sacrifice for the rest of her life,” sputtered the dame. “Britt for her? + Fs-s-sh!” Her hiss of disgust was prolonged. Then she rattled the dice + more vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “It's a mighty good imitation of a—diamond-backed rattler, mother! + But come on over to the table, son! She isn't as dangerous as she sounds!” + The Squire dragged along his chair. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman leaped from his seat with a suddenness that was startling in that + interior where peace prevailed and composure marked all acts. For the + first time in his stay in the Hexter home his mood fought with the + serenity of the place. The prospect of that bland contest with disks and + dice was hateful, all of a sudden. His rioting feelings needed room—air—somehow + there seemed to be something outside that he ought to attend to. + </p> + <p> + “Dear folks, let me off for to-night,” he pleaded. “It's been a hard day + for me—in the bank—I'm nervous—I think a walk will do me + good.” + </p> + <p> + He rushed into the hallway without waiting for any reply. He put on his + cap and finished pulling on his overcoat when he was outside the house. + His first impulse was to stride away from the village—go out along + the country road to avoid the men who scowled at him as Britt's right-hand + servitor. + </p> + <p> + But he noted that some kind of tumult seemed to be going on in the village—and + any kind of tumult fitted the state of his emotions right then. He hurried + toward the tavern. + </p> + <p> + Up and down the street men were marching, to and fro before Usial's shop. + Vaniman saw tossing torches and the light revealed that some of the + marchers wore oilcloth capes, evidently relics of some past and gone + political campaign when parades were popular. + </p> + <p> + There was music, of a sort. A trombone blatted—there was the + staccato tuck of a snare drum, and the boom of a bass drum came in with + isochronal beats. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman went to the tavern porch and stood there with other onlookers. + </p> + <p> + “Give Ike Jones half a chance with that old tramboon of his and he ain't + no slouch as a musicianer,” remarked Landlord Files to the young man. “I + hope Egypt is waking up to stay so.” + </p> + <p> + “If we keep on, the town will get to be lively enough to suit even a city + chap like you are,” said another citizen. “Hope you're going to stay with + us!” But there was no cordiality in that implied invitation; that there + was malice which hoped to start something was promptly revealed. “In spite + of what is reported about Tasp Britt firing you out of your job!” sneered + the man. + </p> + <p> + The morrow held no promise for Vaniman, no matter what the Squire had said + in the way of reassurance. To stay with Britt in that bank would be + intolerable punishment. He decided that he might as well talk back to + Egypt as Egypt deserved to be talked to, considering what line of + contumely had been passed in through that bank wicket. He was obliged to + speak loudly in order to be heard over the trombone and the drums. + Therefore, everybody in the crowd got what he said; he was young, deeply + stirred, and he had held back his feelings for a long time. “I'm going to + leave this God-forsaken, cat-fight dump just as soon as I can make my + arrangements to get away. Good night!” + </p> + <p> + He was ashamed of himself the moment that speech was out of his mouth. He + was so much ashamed that he immediately became afraid he would be moved to + apologize; and he was also ashamed to apologize. He was, therefore, + suffering from a peculiar mixture of emotions, and realized that fact, and + hurried off before his tongue could get him into any worse scrape. + </p> + <p> + He suddenly felt an impulse to get back to sanity by a talk with Vona. He + had never called at her home. He knew his Egypt all too well—short + as his stay had been! A call on a young woman by a young man was always + construed by gossip as a process of courtship—and until that day + Frank had been keeping his feelings hidden even from Vona herself. + </p> + <p> + But, having definitely decided to leave the town, he was in a mood to put + aside considerations of caution in regard to their mutual affairs, for one + evening, at any rate. He was moved also by the reflection that her father + was at home—and the Squire and Xoa had dropped broad hints as to + that gentleman's methods of operation with his womenkind. Vaniman + possessed youth's confidence in his ability to make good in the world. He + wondered if it would not be well to have a general show-down in the + Harnden family, in order that when he went away from Egypt he might go + with the consolation of knowing that Vona was waiting for him, her love + sanctioned. + </p> + <p> + Pondering, he arrived in front of Egypt's humble town hall. Young folks + were coming out of the door. He remembered then! For some weeks they had + been rehearsing a drama to be presented on the eve of Washington's + Birthday, and Vona had the leading role; she had employed him at slack + times in the bank to hold the script and prompt her in her lines. + </p> + <p> + He saw her and stopped, and she hastened to him. “I suppose a political + parade on Broadway wouldn't break up a rehearsal, Frank. But that's what + has happened in this case. Not one of us could keep our minds on what we + were saying.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not surprised. Any noise of an evening in this place, except an owl + hooting, is a cause for hysterics.” + </p> + <p> + She walked on at his side. “You're disgusted with our poor old town,” she + said, plaintively. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to leave. Do you blame me?” + </p> + <p> + “I've heard about the—whatever it was!” + </p> + <p> + “That's right! Leave it unnamed—whatever it was!” + </p> + <p> + She touched his arm timidly. “Please be kind—to me—no matter + how much cause you have to dislike others here.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, put his arms about her, and drew her into a close embrace. + There were shadows of buildings where they stood; no one was near. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do my best here, Vona. You understand it. But I can't go away and + do the best that's in me unless I go with your pledge to me.” + </p> + <p> + “You have it, Frank! The pledge of all my love.” + </p> + <p> + “But your folks! They tell me your father is at home.” + </p> + <p> + “I have said nothing to father and mother—naturally.” She smiled up + at him. “I have never had any occasion to say anything to them about my + loving anybody, because that matter has never come up till now.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going home with you,” he said, grimly, and drew her along, his arm + linked in hers. + </p> + <p> + “If you think it is advisable for me to talk with father and mother, I'll + do it—I'll do it to-night,” she volunteered, courageously. + </p> + <p> + “Vona, I never want to feel again as I did this afternoon when I allowed + you to go alone on an errand that concerned us both. After this, I'm going + to stand up, man fashion, and do the talking for the two of us.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + TWO AGAINST THE FIELD + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Harnden had not had a bit of trouble late that afternoon in securing a + promise from Tasper Britt to give him audience and view the plans and + specifications of Mr. Harnden's latest invention. In fact, the consent had + been secured so easily that Mr. Harnden, freshly arrived in town on Ike + Jones's stage, and having heard no Egypt gossip during a prolonged absence + from home, had blinked at Britt with the air of a man who had expected to + find a door held against him, had pushed hard, and had tumbled head over + heels when nothing opposed him. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden went out on the street and put himself in the way of hearing + some gossip. Then he went directly back into Britt's office and shook + hands with the money king, giving Mr. Britt an arch look which suggested + that Mr. Harnden knew a whole lot that he was not going to talk about + right then. He said, ascribing the idea to second thought, that it might + be cozier and handier to view the plans at the Harnden home. Mr. Britt + agreed with a heartiness that clinched the hopes which gossip had given + Mr. Harnden. The father causally said he supposed, of course, that Vona + had gone home long before from the bank, and he watched Mr. Britt's + expression when the banker replied to a question as to how she was getting + on with her work. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, siree, she's a smart girl,” corroborated the father, “and I have + always impressed on her mind that some day she was bound to rise high and + get what she deserves to have. Come early, Tasper, and we'll make a + pleasant evening of it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt went early, but not early enough to catch Vona before she left + for the rehearsal. + </p> + <p> + Although it had been particularly easy to get Mr. Britt to come to the + house, Mr. Harnden was not finding it easy to hold his prospective + backer's attention. The patent project under consideration was what the + inventor called “a duplex door,” designed to keep kitchen odors from + dining rooms. Mr. Harnden had a model of the apparatus. With his + forefinger he kept tripping the doors, showing how a person's weight + operated the contrivance, shutting the doors behind and simultaneously + opening the doors in front; but Mr. Harnden did not draw attention to the + palpable fact that a waiter would need to have the agility of a flea to + escape being swatted in the rear or banged in the face. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt watched the model's operations with lackluster eyes; he seemed + to be looking through the little doors and at something else that was not + visible to the inventor. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden was short and roly-poly, with a little round mouth and big + round eyes, and a curlicue of topknot that he wagged in emphasis as a + unicorn might brandish his horn. Mr. Harnden considered that he was a good + talker. He was considerably piqued by Britt's apparent failure to get + interested, although the banker was making considerable of an effort to + return suitable replies when the inventor pinned him to answers. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I go over the whole plan again, from the start,” suggested + Harnden. + </p> + <p> + “Joe, Mr. Britt looks real tired,” protested Mrs. Harnden from the chimney + corner. Her querulous tone fitted her lackadaisical looks; her house dress + had too many flounces on it; she had a paper-covered novel in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I <i>am</i> tired,” declared Britt, mournfully. “Sort of worn out + and all discouraged. I feel terribly alone in this world.” + </p> + <p> + “Too bad!” Mrs. Harnden cooed her sympathy, affectedly. + </p> + <p> + “And I've been through hell's torments in the last few hours,” declared + Britt; ire succeeded his dolor. + </p> + <p> + “You must try and forget how those ingrates have abused you, Mr. Britt. + This is a beautiful story I have just finished. You must take it with you + and read it. The love sentiment is simply elegant. And it speaks of the + sheltering walls of the home making a haven for the wounded heart. I hope + you have found this home a haven to-night.” She rose and crossed to him + and laid the novel in his hands. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden shoved his own hands into his trousers pockets, throwing back + his coat from his comfortable frontal convexity. He presented a sort of + full-rigged effect—giving the appearance of one of those handy-Jack + “Emergency Eddies” who make personal equipment a fad: the upper pockets of + his waistcoat bristled with pencils and showed the end of a folded rule + and some calipers. He had all sorts of chains disappearing into various + pockets—chains for keys and knife and cigar cutter and patent light. + “Tasper,” he advised, briskly, “seeing that you're now in a happy haven, + as the wife says, why waste time and temper on this town? The only reason + why I have kept my home here is because the town is solid rock and makes a + good jumping-off place for me; I can get a firm toe hold. Why do you + bother with a dinky office like the one you started out for? With your + money and general eminence you can be the Governor of our state. Sure! I + know all the men in this state. I've made it my business to know 'em. Let + me be your manager and I'll make you Governor like”—Mr. Harnden + yanked out one hand and tripped the doors of the model with a loud snap—“like + that! Open goes the door to honors—bang goes the door against + enemies!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt glanced at the title of the story in his hands—<i>The + Flowers Along Life's Pathway</i>—and perked up a bit as if he saw an + opportunity to pluck some of those flowers. But when Mr. Harnden went on + to say that politics was not as expensive—with the right manager—as + some folks supposed, Mr. Britt exhibited gloomy doubt. “A home is about + all I have in mind right now,” he declared. “A man has got to have a happy + home before his mind is free for big plans.” + </p> + <p> + “My experience exactly!” stated Mr. Harnden, graciously indicating with a + wave of the hand the happy home which he rarely graced. “And knowing what + I do about the help a good home gives an enterprising man, you've got my + full co-operation in your efforts, Tasper.” + </p> + <p> + They heard the hall door open. + </p> + <p> + “It's Vona,” announced Mrs. Harnden. She beamed on Britt. “I wonder why + the dear girl is coming home so early.” + </p> + <p> + The caller's face lighted up with the effect of an arc lamp going into + action. + </p> + <p> + But when the sitting-room door opened and Vona escorted Vaniman in ahead + of her, Britt's illuminated expression instantly became the red glare of + rage instead of the white light of hope. He leaped to his feet. + </p> + <p> + The situation made for embarrassment of overwhelming intensity; there was + no detail of the affair in front of Usial's cot that had not been + canvassed by every mouth in Egypt, including the mouths of the Harnden + home. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman made the first move. He bowed to Mrs. Harnden; he knew the mother; + she had called on Vona in the bank. “May I meet your father?” he asked the + girl. + </p> + <p> + Vona presented him, recovering her composure by the aid of Frank's + steadiness. + </p> + <p> + “How-de-do!” said Mr. Harnden, stiffly. He did not ask the caller to be + seated. Vona gave the invitation. While Vaniman hesitated, the master of + the household had a word to say, putting on his best business air. + “Ordinarily, young man, the latchstring of my home is out and the boys and + the girls are welcome here to make merry in a sociable way.” Mr. Harnden + was distinctly patronizing, with an air that put Frank into the + intruding-urchin class. “But it so happens that this evening Banker Britt + has seized the opportunity of my being in town and he and I are in close + conference regarding an important matter in the investment line. You'll + excuse us, I'm sure.” + </p> + <p> + It was certainly no moment to go tilting in the field of Love, and Frank, + though undaunted, was deferential; and he was compelled to recognize the + father's rights as master of the household. He bowed and turned to leave, + carefully keeping his eyes off Britt. + </p> + <p> + But Vona had her word to say then; her foot was on the hearth of home; she + had that advantage over Frank. Moreover, she was moved by the instinct of + self-protection; she did not relish the notion of being left alone with + that trio. + </p> + <p> + “We can kindle a fire in the front room, father!” + </p> + <p> + “There hasn't been a fire in that room all winter, dear girl.” Mrs. + Harnden's protest was sweetly firm. “No one shall run the chance of + catching a cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly! It's tricky weather, and we must be careful of our guests,” + agreed Mr. Harnden. “Call again, young sir!” + </p> + <p> + “I will,” stated Vaniman. He turned and addressed Vona. “The little matter + will take no harm if it's postponed till to-morrow,” he told her. His gaze + was tender—and the girl looked up at him with an expression which + even a careless observer would have found telltale. Britt's vision was + sharpened by such jealous venom that he would have misconstrued even + innocent familiarity. He had been struggling with his passion ever since + Vaniman had appeared, escorting the girl in from the night where the two + had been alone together. Age's ugly resentment at being supplanted by + youth was sufficiently provocative in this case where Britt ardently + longed, and had promised himself what he desired; but to that provocation + was added the stinging memory of the blow dealt that day by Youth's hand + across Age's withered mouth; he licked the swollen lips with a rabid + tongue. He beheld the two young folks exchanging looks that gave to their + simple words an import which roused all his fury. Britt shook himself free + from all restraint. He had been assured by the Harndens that their home + was his haven; he took advantage of that assurance and of the young man's + more dubious standing in the household. + </p> + <p> + Britt was holding to the paper-covered novel—it was doubled in his + ireful grip and its title showed plainly above his ridged hand—a + particularly infelicitous title it seemed to be under the circumstances, + because Britt was shaking the book like a cudgel and his demeanor was that + of a man who was clutching thorns instead of flowers. He advanced on Frank + and his voice made harsh clamor in the little room. “You'd better not take + on any more engagements for to-morrow, Vaniman. You'll be mighty busy with + me, winding up our business together.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir. And suppose we leave off all matters between us until + then!” + </p> + <p> + But Britt had started to run wild and was galloping under the whip of + fury. He had been doing some amazing things that day—he had written + verse, he had blubbered foolishly with a girl looking on, and he had + horsewhipped his twin brother before the eyes of the populace—but + what he did next was more amazing than all the rest. Having sourly + admitted to himself that he was a coward when he was alone with the girl, + he took advantage of this moment when his choleric desperation gave him + fictitious courage. He slashed into the situation with what weapons he had + at hand—and he held a reserve weapon, so he thought, in the big + wallet that thrust its bulk reassuringly against his breast. “This thing + seems to have come to a climax; and it ain't through any fault of mine. + I've never yet been afraid to talk for myself, in a climax, and I ain't + afraid now. The time to do business is when you've got your interested + parties assembled—and the five folks in this room—the whole + five—may not be collected together again,” he stated, with vengeful + significance, looking hard at Vaniman. Then he whirled on the girl. “Vona, + I want to marry you. You know it. Your folks know it. It's all understood, + even if it hasn't been put into words. I'll give you everything that money + will buy. When you get me you know what you're getting. I put the question + to you right here and now, before your home folks, and that shows you what + kind of a square man I am. I don't sneak in dark corners.” He accused her + escort with a glowering side-glance. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Harnden simpered. + </p> + <p> + Vona had never found her mother an especially stable support in times of + stress, but the girl did feel that the maternal spirit might arise and + help in an emergency as vital as that one! Mrs. Harnden, however, was + gazing into the arena and was blandly indicating by her demeanor, “Thumbs + down!” + </p> + <p> + Then the girl appealed to her father, mutely eager; denied sympathy, she + was asking for protection. But Mr. Harnden was distinctly not extending + protection. He was looking at Mr. Britt. By avoiding what he knew the girl + was asking for with all her soul in her eyes, Mr. Harnden was indulging + his consistent selfishness; he hated to be worried by the troubles of + others; others' woes placed brambles on the pathway of his optimism. + </p> + <p> + “Tasper, you have certainly jumped the Harnden family—jumped us + complete! You can't expect a girl to get her voice back right away. But I + suppose it's up to me to speak for the family.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman stepped into the center of the room. “I suppose so, too, Mr. + Harnden. I'll confess that I came into your house this evening with that + idea in my mind.” + </p> + <p> + Now the girl had eyes only for the one whom she recognized as her real + champion; those eyes would have inspired a knight to any sort of + derring-do, Frank was telling himself. + </p> + <p> + “That being agreed, I'll speak,” stated Mr. Harnden, throwing back his + coat lapels and displaying all his pencil quills. + </p> + <p> + “Just one moment, sir, till I have shown that Mr. Britt has no monopoly on + courage—seeing that he has put invasion of a quiet home on that + plane. I love your daughter. I want her for my wife. I came here to tell + you so; but I was putting politeness ahead of my anxiety after you told me + that you were engaged.” + </p> + <p> + “Harnden, that man hasn't a cent in the world,” Britt declared. “He sends + away every sou markee he can spare from his salary. He buys checks from + me. I can show 'em.” Out came Britt's big wallet; he threw down the + paper-covered novel. + </p> + <p> + “I support my mother and I'm putting my young sister through school,” + admitted the cashier. “Mr. Britt is right. But every time I buy one of his + checks I buy a lot of honest comfort for myself.” + </p> + <p> + “I think, young man, that the Harnden family better not interfere with the + comfort of the Vaniman family,” averred the father, loftily. “I'd hate to + think I was a party to taking bread from the mouths of a mother and a + sister. I'm sure Vona feels the same way.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly!” supplemented Mrs. Harnden. “I understand a woman's feelings + in such a matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Furthermore, I have discharged Vaniman for good and sufficient reasons,” + said President Britt. “He stands there busted and without a job.” + </p> + <p> + “That is quite true,” Vaniman admitted. “I cannot remain with the Egypt + Trust Company, but that's a matter quite of my own choice.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is, is it?” scoffed the president. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir! I've had quite enough of your society.” + </p> + <p> + “Therefore, it seems to me that there isn't much more to be said—not + here—in a home that we try to make peaceful and happy at all times,” + said Mr. Harnden, pompously. + </p> + <p> + “But there's something more I'm going to say!” Britt was proceeding with + malice in tones and mien. He had been waving the canceled checks. He + pulled another paper from the wallet. “You think the directors would keep + you on in that job, do you, Vaniman, if you forced the issue?” + </p> + <p> + “I do! Jealousy and petty spite would not show up very strong in a board + meeting, Mr. Britt.” + </p> + <p> + Britt shook the paper. “How would this show up?” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman did not lose his composure. “Why don't you read it aloud? You have + stirred curiosity in Mr. and Mrs. Harnden, I see.” + </p> + <p> + “And I'll stir something else in a girl you're trying to fool! But I'm + gong to save this letter for that board meeting; I'll have you fired by a + regular vote—and I'll send the record of that vote to every bank in + this part of the country. Then see how far you'll get with your lies about + my jealousy!” Britt was plainly determined to allow guesswork to deal in + the blackest construction regarding the letter. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman turned his back on the others. He talked directly to Vona. The + agonized query in her eyes demanded a reply from him. “Mr. Britt has in + his hand a letter from some banking friend of his. The letter says that my + father was sentenced to the penitentiary, charged with embezzlement. That + is so. My father died there. But it was wicked injustice. You and your + father and mother are entitled to know that an honest man was made a + scapegoat.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me!” broke in Harnden. “We are outsiders and will probably remain + so, and have no hankering to pry into family matters.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not intend to tell the story now, Mr. Harnden. It's too sacred a + matter to be discussed in the presence of that man who stands there trying + to make a club of the thing to ruin my hopes and my life. This is a + hateful situation. I apologize. But he has forced me to speak out, as I + have done, telling you and your wife of my love for Vona.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see how you dare to speak of it, seeing what the circumstances + are,” declared the father; there was a murmur of corroboration from the + mother. + </p> + <p> + “It's a cheeky insult to all concerned,” shouted Britt. + </p> + <p> + “No, it's my best attempt to be honest and open and a man,” insisted + Vaniman. “I have left no chance for gossip to bring tales to you, Mr. + Harnden.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Harnden sliced the air with a hand that sought to sever further + conference. “Absolutely impossible, young man.” + </p> + <p> + “Vona's prospects must not be ruined by anybody's selfishness,” stated + Mrs. Harnden. + </p> + <p> + In his eagerness, encouraged by this parental backing, Mr. Britt did not + employ a happy metaphor. “It has been my rule, in the case of bitter + medicine, to take it quick and have the agony over with.” He put all the + appeal he could muster into his gaze at Vona. “That's why I have sprung + the thing this evening, on the spur of the moment. I ain't either young or + handsome, Vona. I know my shortcomings. But I've got everything to make + you happy; all you've got to do is turn around and take me as your husband + and make me and your folks happy, too.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden's optimism bobbed up with its usual serenity. “We're making a + whole lot out of a little, come to think it over!” He turned to Vona, + feeling that he was fortified against any appeal he might find in her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + In the silence that she had imposed on herself while her champion was + battling she had been gathering courage, piling up the ammunition of + resolution. Love lighted her eyes and flung out its signal banners of + challenge on her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Why, our girl has never said that she is in love with anybody,” prated + the father. + </p> + <p> + “I'll say it now, when there's a good reason for saying it,” cried the + girl, her tones thrilling the listeners. “I'll say it in my own way to the + one who is entitled to know, and you may listen, father and mother!” + </p> + <p> + She went to Frank, stretching her hands to him, and he took them in his + grasp. “I understand! I can wait,” she told him. “And when the time comes + and you call to me, I'll say, as Ruth said, 'Entreat me not to leave thee, + or to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest, I will go; + and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and + thy God my God.'” Impulsively, heeding only him, she threw her arms around + his neck and kissed him. Then she ran from the room. + </p> + <p> + And finding the light gone out of the place, Frank groped to the door, + like a blind man feeling his way, and departed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + THE NIGHT BROUGHT COUNSEL + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Britt, left with the father and mother, got his voice first because he + had been pricked most deeply; furthermore, the girl's method of expression + had touched him on the spot which had been abraded by Prophet Elias's + daily rasping. + </p> + <p> + The suitor drove his fist down on the center table with a force that + caused the model of Mr. Harnden's doors to jump and snap. “By the + joo-dinged, hump-backed Hosea, I've just about got to my limit in this + text business!” + </p> + <p> + “The dear girl is all wrought up. She don't realize what she's saying. + I'll run up to her room and reason with her. Don't mind what a girl says + in a tantrum, Mr. Britt,” Mrs. Harnden pleaded. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt, left with the father, began to stride back and forth across the + room. The title of the book jeered up at him from the carpet where he had + tossed the volume; he kicked the book under the table. + </p> + <p> + “The wife said a whole lot just now,” affirmed Mr. Harnden, soothingly. + “Consider where the girl has been this evening, Tasper! Off elocuting + dramatic stuff! Comes back full of high-flown nonsense. Gets off something + that was running in her head. Torched on by that fly-by-night who'll be + getting out of town and who'll be forgotten inside a week. Where's your + optimism?” He reached up and slapped Britt's back when the banker passed + him. + </p> + <p> + “She is in love with him,” complained the suitor; his anger was succeeded + by woe; his face “squizzled” as if he were about to weep a second time + that day. + </p> + <p> + “Piffle! She's a queer girl if she didn't have the usual run of childish + ailments, along with the whooping cough and the measles. I have always + known how to manage my womenfolks, Tasper. Not by threats and by tumulting + around as you have been doing! You've got a lot to learn. Listen to me!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt paused and blinked and listened. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden plucked out a pencil and made believe write a screed on the + palm of his hand while he talked. “'By the twining tendrils of their + affections you can sway 'em to and fro,' as the poet said, speaking of + women. I am loved in my home. I have important prospects, now that you are + backing me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt blinked more energetically, but he did not dispute. + </p> + <p> + “Another poet has said that's it's all right to lie for love's sake—or + words to that effect. I know the right line of talk to give Vona. And I + won't have to lie such a great lot to make her know how bad off I am right + now. She has always had a lot of sympathy for me,” declared Mr. Harnden, + complacently. “I may as well cash in on it. She won't ruin a loving father + and a happy home when she wakes up after a good cry on the wife's shoulder + and gets her second wind and understands where she's at in this thing. + Tasper, you sit down there in a comfortable chair and let me rub on some + optimism anodyne where you're smarting the worst.” + </p> + <p> + When Mrs. Harnden came into the room a half hour later she looked promptly + relieved to find Mr. Britt in such a calm mood; when she had hurried out + he was acting as if he were intending to kick the furniture about the + place. + </p> + <p> + “A good cry—and all at peace, eh?—and a new view of things in + the morning?” purred the optimist in the way of query. + </p> + <p> + “She didn't cry,” reported the mother, with a disconsolateness that did + not agree with the cheering words of the reports. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very well,” remarked Mr. Harnden, optimism unspecked. “That shows she + is taking a common-sense view and is using her head. What says she?” + </p> + <p> + “I may as well post you on how the matter stands, Mr. Britt. By being + honest all 'round we can operate together better.” + </p> + <p> + Britt agreed by an emphatic nod. + </p> + <p> + After an inhalation which suggested the charging of an air gun, Mrs. + Harnden pulled the verbal trigger. “Vona says she is all through at the + bank.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know my girl,” said Mr. Harnden, airily. “I'll handle her when + morning's light is bright, and forgotten is the night!” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I knew my girl, too,” the mother declared, gloomily. “But I + guess I don't. I never saw her stiffen up like this before. She sat and + looked at me, and I felt like a cushion being jabbed by a couple of + hatpins—if there's any such thing as a cushion having feelings.” + Mrs. Harnden, settling her flounces, a soft and sighing example of “a + languishing Lydia,” was as unfortunate in her metaphor as Britt had been + when he mentioned a bitter medicine. + </p> + <p> + “Tell her that I'll pay her ten dollars more a week,” said President + Britt, looking desperate. “She mustn't leave me in the lurch.” + </p> + <p> + “She'll do it! Nothing to worry about!” affirmed the father. “And I'll + grab in as cashier till my bigger projects get started. I've got a natural + knack for handling money, Tasper.” + </p> + <p> + The banker winced. + </p> + <p> + “We can make it all snug, right in the family,” insisted Harnden. He + jumped up, opened the door into the hallway, and called. He kept calling, + his tones growing more emphatic, till the girl replied from abovestairs. + </p> + <p> + “She's coming down,” reported the general manager of the household, taking + his stand in front of the fireplace. He pulled on a chain and dragged out + a bunch of keys and whirled them like a David taking aim with a sling. + </p> + <p> + Vona came no farther than the doorway, and stood framed there. + </p> + <p> + “What's this last nonsense—that you won't go to your work in the + morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Your pay is raised ten dollars a week, starting to-morrow,” supplemented + Britt, appealingly. + </p> + <p> + But there was no compromise in the girl's mien. “Mr. Britt, I realize + perfectly well that I ought to give you due notice—the usual two + weeks. That would be the honorable business way. But you have set the + example of disregarding business methods, in your treatment of Mr. + Vaniman. You mustn't blame others for doing as you're doing. Therefore I + positively will not come into the bank, as conditions are. As I feel + to-night I shall feel to-morrow! If you, or my father and mother, think + you can change my mind on the matter, you'll merely waste your arguments.” + </p> + <p> + That time she did not run away. She surveyed them in turn, leisurely and + perfectly self-possessed. Even the optimist recognized inflexibility when + he was bumped against it hard enough! She stepped backward, challenging + reply, but they were silent, and she went upstairs. + </p> + <p> + “Still, nobody knows what the morning may bring forth,” persisted Harnden, + after waiting for somebody else to speak. “As I have said, I have a knack—” + </p> + <p> + “Of blowing up paper bags and listening to 'em bust!” snarled the banker, + permitting himself, at least, to express his real opinion of a man whom he + had always held to be an impractical nincompoop. “If you count cash the + way you count chickens before they're hatched, you'd make a paper bag out + of my bank. I'll bid you good night!” + </p> + <p> + He wrenched away from Harnden's restraining hands and shook himself under + the shower of the optimist's pattering words, as a dog would shake off + rain. In the hall he pulled on his overcoat and turned up the collar, for + the words still pattered. He went out into the night and slammed the door. + </p> + <p> + Britt began his program of general anathema by shaking his fist at the + Harnden house after he had reached the street. He shook his fist at the + other houses along the way as he went tramping in the middle of the road + toward his home. He even brandished his fist at his own statue in the + facade of Britt Block. The moonlight revealed the complacent features; the + cocky pose of serene confidence presented by the effigy affected the + disheartened original with as acute a sense of exasperation as he would + have felt if the statue had set thumb to nose and had wriggled the stone + fingers in impish derision. + </p> + <p> + “Gid-dap” Jones and a few citizens who could not make up their minds to go + to bed till they had sucked all the sweetness out of an extraordinary + evening in Egypt, were walking up and down the tavern porch, cooling off. + Mr. Britt, tramping past, shook his fist at them, too. + </p> + <p> + “Hope you enjoyed the music!” suggested Jones, wrought up to a pitch where + he would not be bull-dozed even by “Phay-ray-oh.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I hope we'll have some more to-morrow night,” retorted the + banker. “You still have the poorhouse, the cattle pound, and the lockup to + serenade.” + </p> + <p> + “All right! Which one of 'em do you expect to be in?” inquired Jones. “We + wouldn't have you miss a tune for the world!” + </p> + <p> + When Britt arrived in the shadows of his own porch he stood and looked out + over Egypt and cursed the people, in detail and in toto. He had become a + monomaniac. He had set himself to accomplish one fell purpose. + </p> + <p> + In his office, earlier that day, he had resolved upon revenge; but his + natural caution had served as a leash, and he had pondered on no definite + plans that might prove dangerous. Now only one fear beset him—the + fear that he would not be able to think up and put through a sufficiently + devilish program. + </p> + <p> + He banged his door behind him and lighted a lamp which he kept on a stand + in the hall. He creaked upstairs in the lonely house. His sense of + loneliness was increased when he reflected that Vona would not be at her + desk in the morning. + </p> + <p> + The village watchman noted that the reflector lamp shone all night on the + door of the vault in the Egypt Trust Company; it was the watchman's + business to keep track of that light. But he noted also, outside of his + regular business, that there was a light for most of the night in Tasper + Britt's bedroom. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + THE MAN WHO WAS SORRY + </h3> + <p> + It was a heavy dawn, next day; a thaw had set in and a drizzle of rain + softened the snow; gray clouds trailed their draperies across the top of + Burkett Hill. + </p> + <p> + Landlord Files had trouble in getting his kitchen fire started—in + the sluggish air the draught was bad. Mr. Files's spirits were as heavy as + the air. He knew it was up to him to be the first man in Egypt to come in + contact with Tasper Britt that morning. + </p> + <p> + Stage-driver Jones had an early breakfast, for he had to be off with the + mail. Mr. Jones had been up late, for him, and he was grouchy. In the + matter of the warfare on Pharaoh his mood seemed to be less assertive than + it had been the night before. Mr. Files detected that much after some + conversation while the breakfast was served. + </p> + <p> + “All you have to do is 'gid-dap' and get away,” said Files, sourly. “I + have to stay here on my job and be the first to meet him and get the brunt + of the whole thing. And I condoned, as you might say, and as he'll + probably feel. I let my porch be used for meeting and mobbing, as you + might say. And he ketched me grinning over his shoulder when I read them + heading words after that old lunkhead of a Prophet passed him the paper.” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up!” remarked Driver Jones, stabbing a potato. + </p> + <p> + “I owe him money—and I let my porch be used—” + </p> + <p> + “Figure out the wear and tear on the planks and pass me the bill. Now shut + up and don't spoil my vittles any morn'n you have done in the way of + cooking 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Files, left alone to meet Britt, resolved to hand that tyrant a + partial sop by having breakfast on the table the moment the regular + boarder unfolded his napkin; food might stop Britt's mouth to some extent, + the landlord reflected. + </p> + <p> + Result of this precautionary courtesy! The breakfast was a mess when Britt + arrived, a half hour late. Mr. Files had depended on his boarder's + invariable punctuality and had been obliged to keep “hotting up” the food, + watching the clock with increasing despair. + </p> + <p> + Britt smiled on the landlord when they faced each other in the dining + room. The smile made the landlord shiver. He was dreading the explosion. + He set on the viands as timidly as a child holding out peanuts to an + elephant. Mr. Britt beamed blandly and spoke of the change in the weather + and said he was hoping that “Old Reliable Ike wouldn't be bothered too + much by the soft footing on his way to Levant.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Files gasped when he heard this consideration expressed for the + ringleader of the evening's demonstration. He recovered sufficiently to + start in on an explanation of the condition of the food. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right, Files! It's my fault. I overslept.” + </p> + <p> + Britt ate for a few minutes; then he suspended operations and looked Files + hard in the face; that face, as to mouth, was as widely open as the + countenance of the office alligator. “I did a whole lot of thinking last + night, Files. I'm telling you first, like I propose to tell others in + Egypt as I come in contact with 'em during the day—it has been my + fault—how things have happened! The night brings counsel! Yes, sir, + it surely does.” He went on eating. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Britt, I was afraid—” + </p> + <p> + Pharaoh waved his knife expostulatingly. “I know it, Files! Your face told + me the whole story when I stepped in here. But I'm a changed man. I know + when I'm down. However, it's my own fault, I repeat. I stubbed my toe over + the trigs I had set in the way of my own operations. I deserve what I'm + getting—and the lesson will make me a different man from now on.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Files staggered out into the kitchen in order to be alone with his + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + Britt spent a longer time than usual in the tavern office after breakfast; + he smoked two cigars, himself, and gave a cigar to each of the early + citizens who dropped in through the front way after they had received + certain information from Files, who excitedly had beckoned them to come to + him at the ell door. Mr. Britt frankly exposed his new sentiments about + living and doing. When he put on his overcoat and went forth, Prophet + Elias popped out of the door of Usial's cot like the little gowned figure + of a toy barometer. Britt waved his hand in cheerful greeting. “Prophet + Elias, hand me that text about the way of the transgressor being a hard + one to travel, and I'll take it in a meek and lowly spirit and be much + obliged.” There was no sarcasm in Britt's tone; on the contrary, his + manner agreed with his profession regarding meekness. The Prophet swapped + stares with Files, who stood in the tavern door; that Elias was greatly + impressed was evident, because he withheld speech. + </p> + <p> + That situation had enough drawing power to bring the brother to the + cottage door; he appeared, his spider in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Usial,” called Tasper. “I own up that you're a convincing + writer. According to your request, you see I'm giving you your right name. + The voters are giving you honors. Who knows what another issue of <i>The + Hornet</i> may get for you?” Britt's tone was one of bluff sincerity. + </p> + <p> + Egypt's Pharaoh did not seem to be a bit put out because no one replied to + him in this astonishing levee. He descended from the porch and strolled + off toward Britt Block, puffing his cigar. + </p> + <p> + He found the cashier alone in the bank. Vaniman hastened to put in the + first word. “President Britt, I'm ready to wind up my affairs, and I hope + you see the wisdom in holding our talk strictly to the business in hand.” + </p> + <p> + The president walked in past the grille and sat down at the table; by the + mere look he gave the young man Britt succeeded in climaxing the + succession of the morning's surprises; Vaniman had more reason than the + others to be amazed. + </p> + <p> + “Frank, I'm sorry!” There was wistful fervor in the declaration; for the + first time in their association the president had called the cashier by + his Christian name. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman had risen from his stool; he sat down again and goggled at Britt. + </p> + <p> + “If the two of us begin to apologize, we'll get all snarled up,” went on + the president. “Real men can get down to cases in a better way. I did a + lot of thinking last night; probably you did, too. The hell fire I went + through yesterday would upset any man. To-day I'm scorched and sensible. I + went after something I couldn't get. Just now I don't ask you to stay here + permanently. You can stay right along if you want to, I'll say that here + and now! But if you're bound to go—later—go when you can leave + on the square, after you have broken another man into the job, if you feel + you don't want it. I'll send you away then with my best wishes and a clean + bill! Please don't make me crawl any more'n I'm doing!” + </p> + <p> + It was an appeal to Youth's hale generosity—and generosity dominated + all the other qualities in Vaniman's nature. “I'll stay, Mr. Britt,” he + blurted. “After what you have said I can't help staying.” + </p> + <p> + The banker rose and stretched out his hand. “Men can put more into a grip + of the fist than women can into an afternoon of gabble, Frank.” + </p> + <p> + After the vigorous clasp of palm in palm, Britt had something more to say. + “Vona was terribly stirred up last night, and nobody can blame her. She + served notice on me that she was done in the bank. But she needs the money + and you and I need her help. Go up and ask her to walk back in here as if + nothing had happened. And tell her that what I said about the raise in her + pay holds good.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you ought to go and tell her, Mr. Britt,” Vaniman demurred. “And + my standing with Mr. and Mrs. Harnden—” + </p> + <p> + “I guess your standing will be better from now on,” Britt broke in, + twisting his face into a wry smile. “I left Harnden with a hot ear on him + last night! Furthermore, you'll have to ask her. She declared that if her + father or mother or I tried to change her mind about coming back here we'd + be wasting breath. Go on! I'll tend bank.” + </p> + <p> + When Frank returned with Vona a half hour later the president beamed on + them through the wicket. He immediately left the bank office, giving the + bookkeeper a paternal pat on the shoulder as he passed her, calling her a + good girl. And then the business of the Egypt Trust Company settled back + into its usual routine. + </p> + <p> + During the day customers came to the wicket with notes sanctioned by the + president's O. K. and his sprawling initials; Mr. Britt did not trouble + himself by consulting the directors in regard to ordinary loans. He was + well settled in his autocracy by virtue of the voting proxies which he + handled for stockholders, although he had only a modest amount of his own + money invested in the stock of the bank. Mr. Britt could use his own money + to better advantage. He was permitted to make a one-man bank of the Trust + Company because nobody in Egypt ventured to dispute his sapience as a + financier. + </p> + <p> + The customers who came that day were plainly having a hard time of it in + controlling their desire to share some of their emotions with the cashier. + But Vaniman's stolid countenance did not encourage any confidences. + </p> + <p> + Some of the repression he exercised in the case of customers extended to + his communion with Vona during the slack times of the business day. There + seemed to be a tacit agreement between them to keep off the topic of what + had happened the night before. Words could not have added to their + understanding of their mutual feelings. That understanding had established + for them the policy of waiting. Though Frank said but little to the girl + about his talk with the president, he imagined he could feel the tingle of + Britt's handclasp as he remembered the look on Britt's face, and he pitied + the old man. To go on, seizing every opportunity to make love, would seem + like “rubbing it in,” Frank told himself. He also said something of the + sort to Vona, and she agreed with an amiable smile. + </p> + <p> + And the two of them agreed on one thing, more especially: Tasper Britt + must have had a strange housecleaning of the heart during that vigil in + his home on the hill. + </p> + <p> + Among other convincing evidences of Britt's transformation was his + treatment of Prophet Elias at the end of that day. + </p> + <p> + The Prophet did not deliver his usual matutinal taunts in front of Britt + Block. But when he came back from the field in the afternoon, he returned + from conferences with Egyptian skeptics who had not seen Tasper Britt in + his new form, and therefore, perhaps, their assertions had caused Elias to + doubt the evidences of his own senses. At any rate, the Prophet resolved + to put the reform of Pharaoh to the test of texts, and he raised his voice + and declaimed. + </p> + <p> + Britt came to the front door and mildly entreated the Prophet to walk in. + “I'll be glad to listen to you. Isn't it a good idea to tell me, man to + man, in my office what's wrong with me, instead of standing out there in + the snow, telling the neighborhood?” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet went in, having first slapped his hand on his breast, urging + action, “'Go in, speak unto Pharaoh, king of Egypt, that he let the + children of Israel go out of his hand.'” + </p> + <p> + He trudged forth, after a time, and walked along slowly toward Usial's + house, clawing his hand above his ear with the air of a man trying to + solve a perplexing puzzle. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + SACKS AND MOUTHS—ALL SEALED + </h3> + <p> + Every now and then the fad of a new trick puzzle—a few bits of + twisted wire, or a stick and a string—will as effectually occupy the + time of an entire community as a cowbell will take up the undivided + attention of a cur, if the bell is hitched to the cur's tail. + </p> + <p> + The folks of Egypt had a couple of brain-twisters to solve. + </p> + <p> + What had happened to Tasper Britt? + </p> + <p> + How did it happen that Cashier Vaniman was holding on to his job? + </p> + <p> + His townsfolk knew Britt's character pretty well, and they had much food + for speculation in his case. + </p> + <p> + There were some who ventured the suggestion that Hittie's remonstrating + spirit had come to him in the night watches. Other guesses ran all the way + down the scale of probability to the prosaic belief that Britt had decided + that it was not profitable to go on making a fool of himself. It was + agreed that Britt had a good eye for profit in every line of action; and + it was conceded, even by those who did not believe all that was said about + spiritist influences in these modern days, that if Hittie really had + managed to get at him it was likely that her caustic communications would + knock some of the folly out of him. + </p> + <p> + Egypt did not know Vaniman, the outlander, very well. Gossip about his + reasons for remaining were mostly all guess-so; the folks got absolutely + nothing from him on the subject. He did not discuss the matter even with + Squire Hexter and Xoa. Frank and Vona had definitely adopted the policy of + waiting, and he resolved to take no chances on having that policy + prejudiced by anybody carrying random stories to Britt, reports that the + cashier had said this or the other. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman took occasion to reassure Mr. Britt on that point, and the latter + had displayed much gratitude. “If you don't hurt <i>me</i>, Frank, I won't + hurt <i>you</i>!” Then the usurer's eyes hardened. “Of course I can't + expect you to forget that I threatened to blacken your name in banking + circles. But in our new understanding I guess we can afford to call it a + stand-off.” + </p> + <p> + “If I were staying here simply to wheedle you into passing me on with a + high testimonial, I'd be playing a selfish game, and that isn't my + attitude, sir. I was anxious to get this job. I felt that I had a right to + stand for myself, on my own honesty. But I shall tell the whole story the + next time I apply for a position. I'm getting to understand big financiers + better,” he added, with bitterness. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, finance is very touchy on certain points,” admitted the president. + “But I'm glad you're not going to do any more talking here in town. You're + somewhat of a new man here, and you don't know the folks as I do. I + suppose some talk will have to be made as to why you and I are sticking + along together, after you slapped my face in public. You'd better let me + manage the story.” + </p> + <p> + “You may say what you think is best, Mr. Britt.” + </p> + <p> + “They're a suspicious lot, the men in this town.” The banker surveyed + Vaniman, making slits of his eyes. “However, I've grown used to all this + recent talk about me being a fool. If it's also said that I'm a fool for + keeping you here, I won't mind it. And you mustn't mind if it's hinted + around that you're hanging on in the bank because you've got private + reasons that you're not talking about.” + </p> + <p> + The cashier greeted that sentiment with an inquiring frown. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't be nervous, Frank!” Mr. Britt flapped his hand, making light of + the matter. He grinned. “I won't set you out as being the leader of a + robber gang. I'm not like the peaked-billed old buzzards of this place—bound + to say the worst of every stranger. You'd better turn to and hate the + critters here, just as I do.” + </p> + <p> + Britt's tones rasped when he said that; his feelings were getting away + from him. The young man's expression hinted that he was trying to + reconcile this rancorous mood with Britt's recent declarations of a new + view of life. + </p> + <p> + “What I really meant to say, Frank, was that such has been my feeling in + the past. I'm trying to change my nature. If I forget and slip once in a + while, don't lay it up against me.” + </p> + <p> + After that the president and the cashier in their daily conferences + confined their discourse to the business of the bank. Britt got into the + way of asking Vaniman's advice and of deferring to it when it had been + given. “You're running the bank. You know the trick better than I do.” + </p> + <p> + Therefore, it was perfectly natural for the president to bring up a topic + of the past, a matter where Frank had given advice that had been + scornfully rejected. “I've been thinking over what you said about that + stock of hard money in the vault needing a guard. That fool of a Stickney + has started a lot of gossip, in spite of my warning to him. There's no + telling how far the gossip has spread.” + </p> + <p> + “That kind of news travels fast, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Britt showed worry. “Perhaps I undertook too much of a chore for a little + bank like ours. But because we are little and because this town isn't able + to support the bank the way I had hoped, I thought I'd turn a trick that + would net us more of a handy surplus in a modest sort of a way.” + </p> + <p> + Britt did not trouble himself to explain to the cashier that, by a private + arrangement with the city broker, the deal would also turn a neat sum into + the pocket of the president of the Egypt Trust Company, hidden in the + charge of “commission and expenses,” split with due regard to the feelings + of broker and president. + </p> + <p> + “The big fellows are grabbing off twenty-five or thirty per cent in their + foreign money deals,” went on the banker. “Tightening home credits so as + to do it! What's fair for big is fair for little!” + </p> + <p> + “The profit is attractive, surely,” the cashier stated. + </p> + <p> + “Our stockholders have honored me right along, and I'd like to show 'em + that I deserve my reputation as a financier. I'm just finicky enough to + want to clean up the last cent there is in it—and that's why I'm + waiting for the right market. We've got to hold on for a few days, at any + rate. But I reckon you feel as I do, that we're taking chances, now that + gossip is flying high!” + </p> + <p> + “I think the vault should be guarded, Mr. Britt.” + </p> + <p> + “Any suggestions as to a man?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know the men here well enough to choose.” + </p> + <p> + “And I know 'em so blasted well that I'm in the same box as you are. + They're numbheads.” + </p> + <p> + The two men sat and looked at each other in silence; the matter seemed to + be hung up right there, like a log stranded on a bank—“jillpoked,” + as rivermen say. + </p> + <p> + “There's one way out of it, Frank,” blurted the president. “Nobody cares + when I come or go, nights. I may as well sleep here as in my house, all + alone. I'll have a cot put in the back room.” He pointed to a door in the + rear of the bank office. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman came forward with instant and eager proffer. “That's a job for me, + Mr. Britt.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of an effort to seem casual, Britt could not keep significance + out of his tone. “It's too bad to pen a young man up of an evening, when + he can be enjoying himself somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “It's because I'm young that I'm insisting, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose I'm so old that no husky robber would be afraid of me,” + returned Britt, dryly. “So you insist, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I do.” + </p> + <p> + “I must ask you to remember that you're doing it only because you have + volunteered.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be glad to have you tell the directors that I volunteered and + insisted.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well! We'll have the thing understood, Frank. I wouldn't want to + have 'em think I was obliging you to do more than your work as cashier.” + </p> + <p> + Therefore, Vaniman had a cot brought down from Squire Hexter's house, and + borrowed a double-barreled shotgun from the same source. He did not + consider that his new duty entailed any hardship. He had his evenings for + the pachisi games. Xoa insisted on making a visit to the bank and putting + the back room in shape for the lodger. But she vowed that she was more + than ever convinced that money was the root of all evil. + </p> + <p> + Frank's slumbers were undisturbed; he found the temporary arrangement + rather convenient than otherwise. He kindled his furnace fire before going + to the Squire's for breakfast and Britt Block was thoroughly warm when he + returned. + </p> + <p> + There was only one break in this routine, one occasion for alarm, and the + alarm was but temporary. Frank heard footsteps in the corridor one evening + after he had come back to the bank from the Squire's house. Almost + immediately Mr. Britt used his key and appeared to the young man. “I + waited till I was sure you were here,” the president explained. “What + Hexter doesn't know won't hurt him—and I thought I'd better not come + to the house for you. I'm sorry it's so late.” Britt was anxiously + apologetic. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't very late, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “But it's late, considering what's on my mind, Frank. And now that I'm + here I hate to tell you what my errand is.” He fumbled in his pocket and + brought out a letter, tapped it with his forefinger, and replaced it. “I + got it in the mail after you had gone to supper.” + </p> + <p> + “If it's any matter where I can be of help, sir, you needn't be a bit + afraid to speak out.” + </p> + <p> + “You can help, but—” After his hesitation Britt plunged on. “I wrote + to that broker that I was feeling a little under the weather and was + postponing my trip to the city, and now that fool of a Barnes writes back + that he's starting right behind his letter to come up here to arrange + about taking over the specie and closing the deal, because the market is + just right to act. And the through train, the one he'll be sure to take, + hits Levant about two o'clock to-morrow morning. He asks me to send + somebody down to meet him. That's all one of those taxicab patronizers + knows about traveling conditions in the country. Frank, unless you'll + volunteer to go I'll have to go myself. I don't want that man talking all + the way up here with old Files's gabby hostler, or with anybody else I + send from the village.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman, even though he tried to make Britt's reasons for the request seem + convincing, could not help feeling that the financier's natural + secretiveness in matters of personal business was stretched somewhat in + this instance. But he gulped back any hesitation and offered to go on the + errand. + </p> + <p> + “Frank, when I was having my run of foolishness I was sorry that you are + young. Now I'm mighty glad of it,” declared Britt. “I can take your place + in yonder on the cot for the night—and I'm going to do it. But I'll + be frank enough to say that I'd rather you'd ride to Levant and back in a + sleigh to-night than do it myself. Go rout up Files's hostler, borrow his + fur coat, and bundle up warm. It's good slipping along the road, and the + trip may have a little pep for you, after all.” + </p> + <p> + And, putting away his momentary doubts, Frank reflected on the matter and + was honestly glad to vary the monotony of his close confinement to the + bank. + </p> + <p> + So he went and roused Files's hostler, bundled himself in the coat and the + sleigh robes, and made a really joyous experience out of the trip to + Levant, under the stars and over the snow that was crisped by the night's + chill. + </p> + <p> + He waited beside the station platform, standing up in the sleigh and + peering eagerly after the train stopped. He called the name, “Mr. Barnes,” + until the few sleepy, slouching, countrified passengers who alighted had + passed on their way. + </p> + <p> + It was perfectly apparent that Broker Barnes was not present to answer + roll call. + </p> + <p> + And after waiting, in whimsical delay, to make sure that Mr. Barnes had + not come footing it behind the train, Frank whipped up and drove back to + Egypt. He felt no pique; he had enjoyed the outing in the sparkling night. + </p> + <p> + In the gray dawn he again routed out Files's yawning hostler and turned + the equipage over to him. + </p> + <p> + “Hope you found it a starry night for a ramble,” suggested the hostler, + willing to be informed as to why a bank cashier had been gallivanting + around over the country between days, turning in a sweating horse at break + of dawn. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman allowed that it was a starry night, all right, and left the topic + there, with a period set to it by the snap of his tone. + </p> + <p> + He went directly to the bank and admitted himself with his keys. + </p> + <p> + President Britt came from the back room, with yawns that matched those of + the hostler. + </p> + <p> + “What time did Barnes say he'd be down here from the tavern in the + morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Barnes did not come on that train, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be—” rapped Britt, snapping shut his jaws. + </p> + <p> + “But I haven't minded the trip—I really enjoyed the ride,” insisted + the messenger. + </p> + <p> + “Don't tell that to Barnes when he shows up to-night on Ike Jones's + stage,” commanded Britt. “I propose to have a few words to say about what + it means in the country when a city fathead changes his mind about the + train he'll take.” He was looking past the cashier while he talked. He + turned away and picked up his hat and coat from a chair. “I'll be going + along to my house, I reckon. You'd better catch a cat-nap on the cot. I + found it comfortable. I've slept every minute since you've been gone.” + </p> + <p> + Then Britt hurried out, locking the door behind him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + SOMETHING TO BE EXPLAINED + </h3> + <p> + By noon that day, in the lulls between customers at the wicket, Vaniman + had had a succession of run-ins with the demon of drowsiness—a + particularly mischievous elf, sometimes, in business hours. Whenever he + caught himself snapping back into wakefulness he found Vona's twinkle of + amusement waiting for him. + </p> + <p> + Once she pointed to the big figures on the day-by-day calendar on the + wall. The date was February 21st. “Console yourself, Frank, dear,” she + advised, teasing him. “The bank will be closed to-morrow and you can make + Washington's Birthday your sleep day! But I do hope you can stay awake at + our play this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “The man who invented sleep as a blessing didn't take into account city + brokers who change their minds about trains,” he returned. “I hope old Ike + Jones will sing that 'Ring, ting! Foo loo larry, lo day' song of his all + the way coming up from Levant. It'll be about the sort of punishment that + Behind-time Barnes deserves.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later the cashier was jumped out of another incipient nap by + the clamor of bells. The two horses that whisked past, pulling a + double-seated sleigh, were belted with bells. A big man with a lambrequin + mustache was filling the rear seat measurably well. Folks recognized the + team as a “let-hitch” from Levant. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Barnes comes late, but he comes in style and with all his bells,” + Vona suggested. + </p> + <p> + The equipage swung up beside the tavern porch and the big man threw off + the robes and stamped in, leaving the driver to take the horses to the + stable. + </p> + <p> + Landlord Files had furnished an accompaniment for the clangor of the + bells; he was pounding his dinner gong. + </p> + <p> + The new arrival had a foghorn voice and used it in hearty volume in + telling Mr. Files that his music was all right and mighty timely! “And + that alligator seems to be calling for his grub, too,” he remarked, on his + way to hang up his coat. “But he doesn't look any hungrier than I feel.” + </p> + <p> + “Room?” inquired the landlord, hopefully, swinging the register book and + pulling a pen out of a withered potato. + </p> + <p> + “No room! Just dinner. I expect to be out of here by night.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Files stabbed the potato with a vicious pen thrust. He knew food + capacity when he viewed it; there would be some profit from a lodging, but + none from a two-shilling meal served to a man who had compared himself + with that open-mouthed saurian. + </p> + <p> + But the guest grabbed the penstock while it was still vibrating. He wrote + across the book, with great flourishes: “Fremont Starr. State Bank + Examiner. February 21st.” + </p> + <p> + “A matter of record, landlord! Show's I'm here. Tells the world I was here + on date noted. Never can tell when the law will call for records. Hotel + registers are fine evidence. Always keep your registers.” + </p> + <p> + “I've had that one eleven years, and it 'ain't been filled up yet,” + averred Mr. Files, inspecting the potentate's signature as sourly as if he + were estimating by how much the lavish use of ink had reduced the possible + dinner profit. “You're the new appointment, hey? I heard you speak, one + time, over at the political rally in the shire town.” + </p> + <p> + “Both my enemies and my friends would have advised you to stay right here + on your porch—saying that you could hear me just as well, if you + didn't care to make the trip to the shire,” said Mr. Starr, lifting the + mat of his mustache in a wide smile. “But when they call me 'Foghorn + Fremont' I'm never one mite offended. 'Let your light shine and your voice + be heard,' is my motto in politics.” + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn't wonder if it's a good one, when they get to passing around the + offices,” admitted Files. He started on his way to the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + At that moment President Britt entered, having answered the gong with the + promptitude of a fireman chasing a box alarm. + </p> + <p> + “What have you on the fire, landlord?” called Mr. Starr, absorbed in the + dinner topic. + </p> + <p> + “Boiled dinner!” + </p> + <p> + Britt did not show the enthusiasm that was exhibited by the other guest. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing like a boiled dinner after a long ride,” Mr. Starr affirmed. + “Plenty of cabbage with mine, if you'll be so kind!” + </p> + <p> + Files gave Mr. Britt some information that he thought might be of + interest. “Here's the new bank examiner. Seeing that you probably have + business together, I'll set both of you at the same table.” He retired. + </p> + <p> + After the commonplaces of getting acquainted, the two tacked the boiled + dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Let's see—who's your cashier?” inquired Starr, chewing vigorously + behind the mask of his mustache. + </p> + <p> + “Young fellow named Vaniman. I have let him take full charge of the bank + business. He seems to know all the ropes.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor policy, Britt! Poor policy!” stated the examiner, vehemently. “Not a + word to say against Vaniman—” He halted on the word and opened his + eyes on Britt. “Vaniman! A name that sticks. There was a Vaniman of + Verona. Easy to remember! There was some sort of a money snarl, as I + recollect.” + </p> + <p> + “It was the young chap's father.” + </p> + <p> + “And you're letting the son run your bank?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not the kind that visits the sins of the fathers on the children,” + loftily stated the president. “Furthermore, a burnt child dreads the fire. + I heard a railroad manager say that a trainman who had let an accident + happen by his negligence was worth twice as much to the road as he was + before. You don't say that I made a bad pick, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a word to say against Vaniman!” repeated Starr, slashing his cabbage. + “I never <i>guess</i> about any proposition—I go at it! But what I'm + saying to you, Britt, is what I'm saying to all the easy-going + country-town bankers. 'You may have second editions of the Apostle Paul + for your cashiers,' I say, 'but every time you sign a statement of + condition without close and careful audit you're bearing false witness.' + And being a new broom that proposes to sweep clean, I'm tempted to poke it + just as hard to slack presidents and directors as I am to an embezzling + cashier who has been given plenty of rope to run as he wants! <i>I'm</i> + on the job <i>examining</i> banks!” He was a vigorous man, Examiner Starr! + He showed it by the way he went at his corned beef. + </p> + <p> + President Britt was perturbed; his eyes shifted; he was even pale. “If + that's the way you feel about it, I hope you'll give our little bank a + good going-over. I was glad to read of your appointment, Mr. Starr!” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Whittum isn't on this job any longer,” stated the examiner, not + needing, in Britt's case, as a banker, to dwell upon the lax methods of + the easy-going predecessor. + </p> + <p> + A half hour later, Starr, with his unbuttoned fur-lined overcoat outspread + as he strode, giving him the aspect of a scaling aeroplane, marched from + the tavern to the bank with Britt. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman had his mouth opened to welcome a man named Barnes, but he was + presented to Bank-Examiner Starr and surprise placed him at a disadvantage + in the meeting. The torpor of drowsiness made him appear stupid and ill at + ease in the presence of this forceful man who stamped in and proceeded to + exploit and enjoy his newly acquired authority. Mr. Starr hung up his coat + and hat and swooped like a hawk on the daybook, at the same time calling + for the book of “petty cash.” + </p> + <p> + “First of all, the finger on the pulse of the patient, Cashier,” he + declared, grimly jovial. “Then we'll have a look at the tongue, and study + the other symptoms.” + </p> + <p> + President Britt went away to his own office. + </p> + <p> + Examiner Starr, confining himself to his announced policy of grabbing in + on the running operations of the bank at the moment of his entry, studied + the petty-cash accounts and checked up the daybook with thoroughness. He + found everything all right and grunted his acknowledgment of that + discovery. + </p> + <p> + Then he began on the ledgers, assuring Vona with ponderous gallantry that + he wouldn't get in her way; he averred that he had a comparison system of + his own, and showed the pride of “the new broom.” + </p> + <p> + After a time it was apparent that Mr. Starr was having trouble. He added + columns of figures over again and scowled; his system was plainly trigged. + </p> + <p> + “Young lady, where's your comptometer?” he demanded, after he had made a + quick survey of the office. + </p> + <p> + “We have never used one, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “One is indispensable these days in a bank—especially when a + bookkeeper can't add a column of figures correctly by the old method.” + </p> + <p> + She flushed and her lips quivered. “I'm sure I do add correctly, sir. My + books always balance.” + </p> + <p> + “Add that column, young lady!” He indicated the column with the plunging + pressure of a stubby digit, and stood so close to her, while she toiled up + the line of figures, that his breath fanned her hair. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman looked on, sympathizing, feeling sure that the bluff inquisitor + had made a mistake of his own. + </p> + <p> + Her confusion under Starr's baleful espionage sent her wits scattering. + She jotted down the total, as she made it. + </p> + <p> + “Wrong!” announced the examiner. “And your figures are different, even, + from the wrong total you have on the books. Try again.” + </p> + <p> + She set her lips and controlled her emotions and went over the work once + more. + </p> + <p> + Starr exhibited figures which he had jotted on a bit of paper that he had + palmed. “You're right, as the figures stand! But your book total doesn't + agree with those figures. Now what say?” + </p> + <p> + Vona was distinctly in no condition to say anything sensible; she stared + from the figures to Starr, showing utter amazement, and then she mutely + appealed to the cashier. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure that Miss Harnden is remarkably accurate in her work, Mr. + Starr,” asserted the young man. “I have been in the habit of going over + it, myself, and I have found no errors.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you go over it, do you? That's good!” But Starr's tone was not one of + satisfied indorsement. He picked up the big book and carried it to the + center table. He fished from his waistcoat pocket a small reading glass, + unfolded the lenses, and studied the page. He turned other pages and + performed the same minute inspection. Then he took the ledger to the + window and held page after page against the glass, propping the book in + his big hands. + </p> + <p> + When he turned, Vona was sitting in a chair, trembling, tears in her eyes, + apprehension ridging her face. + </p> + <p> + “Cashier Vaniman, I don't want to hurt this young lady's feelings any more + than I have. There's no sense in blaming her until I understand the which + and the why of this thing. I have found column after column added wrongly. + Perhaps she has done her work, originally, all right. But the pages of + this ledger are pretty well speckled with erasures. The two of you will + have to thresh it out between yourselves. I'm looking to you as the + responsible party in this bank, Vaniman. I'll do the rest of my talking to + you. After you have found out what the trouble is you must explain to me.” + </p> + <p> + “There can be no trouble with our books!” But the cashier stammered; his + incredulity would not permit him to discuss the matter then or to offer + any sort of explanation; in his amazement he could not think of any + possible explanation. He could not convince himself that Vona needed other + protection than her own thoroughness and rectitude gave her; however, he + wanted to extend his protection. + </p> + <p> + “If anything is wrong with the accounts, you may most certainly look to + me, Mr. Starr. I assume full responsibility. I have found Miss Harnden to + be most accurate.” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to have been through with this small bank and away by night,” + grumbled the examiner. “But I'm going to give you a fair show, Vaniman, by + waiting over. You've got this evening—and to-morrow is a holiday, + and you can take that day, if you need it, to get this tangle straightened + out. I'm stopping my work right here.” He slammed the ledger shut and + tossed it on the girl's desk. “There's no sense in going through your cash + in the vault till I can check by the book accounts. But, bless my soul! I + can't understand by what rhyme or reason those figures have been put into + the muddle they're in. It's coarse work. I'll be frank and say that it + doesn't look like a sane man's attempt to put something over. That's why + I'm lenient with you and am not sticking one of my closure notices on to + your front door. Now get busy, so that you can be sure it won't go up on + the door day after to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + He took down his coat and hat and when he left the room they heard him go + into Tasper Britt's office across the corridor. + </p> + <p> + The stricken lovers faced each other, appalled, mystified, questioning + with the looks they exchanged. + </p> + <p> + “Frank,” the girl wailed, “you know I haven't—” + </p> + <p> + “I know you have been faithful and careful, in every stroke of your pen, + dear. Whatever it is, it's not your fault.” + </p> + <p> + “But what has happened to the books?” she queried, winking back her tears, + trying hard to meet him on the plane of his calmness; he was getting his + feelings in hand. + </p> + <p> + “I propose to find out before I close my eyes this night,” he told her, + gravely. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + MISFORTUNE MEDDLES + </h3> + <p> + Shortly before the supper hour, Britt and Starr came into the bank; they + wore their overcoats and hats, and were on their way to the tavern, + evidently. + </p> + <p> + “How are you making it, Frank?” the president inquired, with solicitude. + </p> + <p> + A sympathetic observer would have found a suggestion of captives, caged + and hopeless, in the demeanor of the cashier and the bookkeeper behind the + grille. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman peered through the lattice into the gloom where the callers stood + and shook his head. “I'm not making it well at all, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “But you must have some idea of what the trouble is.” + </p> + <p> + “There's trouble, all right, Mr. Britt—plenty of it. There's no use + in my denying that. But I'm not far enough along to give any sensible + explanation.” + </p> + <p> + The president showed real anxiety. “What do you say for a guess?” + </p> + <p> + “If you are asking me only for a guess, I should say that the ghost of Jim + the Penman has been amusing himself with these books,” replied the + cashier; he was bitter; he was showing the effects of worry that was + aggravated by lack of sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Aha! Plainly not far enough along for a sensible explanation,” rumbled + Examiner Starr. + </p> + <p> + “A knave is usually ready with a good story when he has been taken by + surprise. Honesty isn't as handy with the tongue. I can only say that + something—I don't say somebody—has put these books into a + devil of a mess, and I'm doing my best to straighten them.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you luck,” affirmed Starr. “I've been talking with your president + and he says everything good about your faithfulness, and about how you + have been doing guard duty in the bank of late. Perhaps you're a + sleepwalker, Vaniman,” he added, with heavy humor. + </p> + <p> + “I feel like one now,” retorted the cashier. “I was awake all last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Doing what?” asked the examiner, politely, but without interest. + </p> + <p> + The question hinted that in the talk in Britt's office the president had + refrained from mention of Barnes, the broker. Vaniman decided instantly to + respect Britt's reticence; the president had shown much caution the night + before, even in regard to Squire Hexter. “Oh, merely running around on a + little business of my own, Mr. Starr.” + </p> + <p> + Britt did not assist by any reference to his own share in the business. + “We may as well start along toward the tavern, Starr.” The president took + two steps toward the grille and addressed Vona. “I'm going to take Mr. + Starr to the show this evening. I want him to see what smart girls we have + in Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + Vona did not reply. She turned to Vaniman with the air of one who has + suddenly been reminded of something forgotten in the stress of affairs. + But before she had an opportunity to speak there was a tramping of hasty + feet in the corridor and her father came in through the door that had been + left ajar by Britt. “Good evening, all!” hailed Mr. Harnden, cheerily. + “But, see here, Vona, my dear girl, we have been waiting supper a whole + half hour. You've got scant time to eat and get on your stage togs.” + </p> + <p> + “This has been a pretty busy day in the bank, Harnden,” explained Britt. + “Meet Mr. Starr, the bank examiner!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hullo, Starr!” cried Mr. Harnden, shoving out a friendly hand. “Heard + you were in town. I know Starr,” he told Britt. “I know everybody in the + state worth knowing. I told you so.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Starr was not effusive; there was a hint of sarcasm in his inquiry as + to how the invention business was coming along. + </p> + <p> + “Fine and flourishing!” announced Harnden, radiantly. Then he blurted some + news which seemed to embarrass Britt very much; the news also provoked + intense interest in Vaniman and the daughter. “All I've ever needed is + backing, Starr. Now I've got it!” He clapped his hand on the banker's + shoulder. “Here's my backer—good as a certified check. Hey, Tasper?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm—I'm always ready to help develop local talent,” Britt admitted, + stammering, turning his back on the faces at the grille. “Starr, we'd + better get along toward the tavern. I've had some poor luck with Files + when he's off his schedule time!” + </p> + <p> + “The new combination of Harnden and Britt will make 'em sit up and take + notice,” persisted the inventor. Forgetting Vona, desiring to impress a + skeptic from the outside world, he followed Starr and the banker. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman and the girl listened to the optimist's fervid declarations till + the slam of the outside door shut them off. + </p> + <p> + “That sounds like an interesting investment, Vona,” was the cashier's dry + comment. “Mr. Britt seems to be swinging that watering pot of his new + generosity around in pretty reckless fashion. I wonder what he'll do + next!” + </p> + <p> + “Frank, I'm afraid!” She spoke in a whisper, staring hard at him. “No, no! + Not what you think! I am not afraid because he is buying my father. If Mr. + Britt thinks I can be included in that bargain he is wiser in making his + money than he is in spending it. But there's something dreadful at work + against us!” She had her hand on the page of an open ledger. + </p> + <p> + “The books can be straightened,” he insisted. “I can do it. I'll do it, if + I have to call in every depositor's pass book.” He pointed to the vault. + He was keeping the doors open till his work was done. “As long as the + money is there, every cent of it, the final checking will show for itself. + And the money will be there! I'm answering for that much! I propose to + stay with it till that Barnes shows up.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember now that you told me he would come by the stage to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “So Britt gave me to understand, when I reported that he didn't come on + the night train.” + </p> + <p> + “But I looked out of the window a little while ago—there was no + passenger with Jones.” + </p> + <p> + “Has the stage come?” He glanced at the clock and blinked at the girl. + “Well, I guess those books had me hypnotized!” + </p> + <p> + “Small wonder,” she said, bitterly. “I tell you I'm afraid, Frank! There's + something we don't see through!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't dare to waste any more time wondering what the trouble is, Vona. + I must get on to the job.” + </p> + <p> + “Both of us must.” + </p> + <p> + “It's time for you to be going home.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to stay here.” + </p> + <p> + “But, dear girl, there's the play! You have the leading part!” + </p> + <p> + “The words will stick in my throat and tears will blind me when I think of + you working here alone. Frank, I insist! I will not leave you. They must + postpone the play.” + </p> + <p> + He went to her and laid her hands, one upon the other, between his + caressing palms. “The folks will be there—they are expecting the + play—you must not disappoint them. It's as much your duty to go to + the hall as it is mine to stay here with the books. And another thing! + Think of the stories that will be set going, with the bank examiner here, + if it's given out that the play had to be postponed because you couldn't + leave the books. Such a report might start a run on the bank. Folks would + be sure to think there's trouble here. You must go, Vona. It's for the + sake of both of us.” + </p> + <p> + He went and brought her coat and hat. + </p> + <p> + “I can't go through with the play,” she wailed. + </p> + <p> + “We've got to use all the grit that's in us—whatever it is we're up + against. Come! Hold out your arms!” He assisted her with the coat. + </p> + <p> + He drew her toward the door with his arm about her. “We'll make a good + long day of it to-morrow—a holiday. George Washington never told a + lie. Perhaps those books will come to themselves in the morning and + realize what day it is and will stop lying! Now be brave!” + </p> + <p> + The kiss he gave her was long and tender; she clung to him. He released + her, but she turned in the corridor and hurried back to him. “I shouldn't + feel as I do—worried sick about you, Frank! The books must come out + right, because both of us have been careful and honest.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly! The thing will prove itself in the end. The money in that vault + will talk for us! I'll do a little talking, myself, when—But no + matter now!” + </p> + <p> + “You have suspicions! I know you have!” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally, not believing as much in ghosts or demons as I may have + intimated to Starr.” + </p> + <p> + She looked apprehensively over her shoulder into the dark corners of the + corridor. Then she drew his face down close to hers. “And it's hard to + believe in the reformation of demons,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “I'm doing a whole lot of thinking, little girl. But I don't want to talk + now. Do your best at the play. Hide your troubles behind smiles—that's + real fighting! And we'll see what to-morrow will do for us.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to-morrow!” She ran away, but again she returned. “And nothing can + happen to you here, in a quiet town like this, can it, Frank?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing but what can be taken care of with that shotgun in the back room! + But don't look frightened, precious girl! There's nothing—” + </p> + <p> + But even Vaniman was startled, the next moment. The girl leaped into his + embrace and cowered. Something was clattering against a window of the + bank. But only the mild face of Squire Hexter was framed in the lamplight + cast on the window. He called, when he got a peep at the cashier, who came + hastening back inside the grille: “Supper, boy! Supper! Come along!” + </p> + <p> + Frank threw up the window. “I'll make what's left over from my lunch do + me, Squire. I'm tied up here with my work.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll allow the new Starr in our local sky to keep you away from euchre,” + the Squire grumbled, “but I swanny if I'll let your interest in astronomy, + all of a sudden, keep you away from the hot vittles you need. You come + along with me to the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Squire, I can't lock the vault yet awhile. I don't want to leave things + as they are. I must not.” + </p> + <p> + Vona had come to his side, she understood the nature of his anxiety. “I am + just starting for my house, Squire Hexter. I'm going to hurry back with + Frank's supper, so that he won't be bothered.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless your soul, sis, even Xoa will be perfectly satisfied with that + arrangement when I explain,” said the Squire, gallantly. “I'm tempted to + stay, myself, if Hebe is going to serve.” He backed away and did a grand + salaam, flourishing the cane whose taps on the window had startled the + lovers. + </p> + <p> + “You must not take the time, Vona,” protested the young man. + </p> + <p> + “I'll bring the supper when I'm on my way to the hall. Not another word! + If I'm to lose the best part of my audience from the hall to-night, I can, + at least, have that best part give me a compliment on my new gown—and + give me,” she went on, reassuring him by a brave little smile, “a whole + lot of courage by a dear kiss.” + </p> + <p> + She hurried away. + </p> + <p> + He was hard at work when she returned, carrying a wicker basket. + </p> + <p> + Again he protested because she was taking so much trouble, but she laid + aside her coat and insisted on arranging the food on a corner of the + table, a happy flush on her cheeks, giving him thanks with her eyes when + he praised her gown. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to look in on you after the show,” she declared. “Father will + come with me.” + </p> + <p> + Vona remained with him until the wall clock warned her. + </p> + <p> + She asked him to wait a moment when he brought her wraps. She stood before + him in her gay garb, wistfully appealing. “Frank, I was intending to have + a little play of my own with you at the hall to-night. I was going to look + right past that Durgin boy, straight down into your eyes, when I came to a + certain place in the play. I was intending to let the folks of Egypt know + something, providing they all don't know it by now. This is what I have to + say, and now I'm saying it to the only audience I care for: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'Twere vain to tell thee all I feel, + Or say for thee I'd die. + Ah, well-a-day, the sweetest melody + Could never, never say one half my love for thee.” + </pre> + <p> + Then, after a moment, she escaped from his ardent embrace. + </p> + <p> + “Remember that, dearest,” she called from the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “I'll remember it every time I start with a line of figures, you blessed + girl. And then how my pencil will go dancing up the column!” + </p> + <p> + After she had gone he pulled the curtain cords, raising the curtains so + that they covered the lower sashes; he did not care to be seen at his work + by the folks who were on their way to the hall. + </p> + <p> + Squire Hexter, escorting Xoa, took the trouble to step to the window and + tap lightly with his cane. He was hoping that the cashier would change his + mind and go to the hall. He waited after tapping but Vaniman did not + appear at the window. The Squire did not venture to tap again. “He must be + pretty well taken up with his work,” he suggested to Xoa when they were on + their way. “That's where we get the saying, 'Deaf as an adder.'” + </p> + <p> + Oblivious to all sounds, bent over his task, Vaniman gave to the + exasperating puzzle all the concentration he could muster. + </p> + <p> + The play that evening at Town Hall dragged after the fashion of amateur + shows. The management of the sets and the properties consumed much time. + There were mishaps. One of these accidents had to do with the most + ambitious scene of the piece, a real brook—the main feature of the + final, grand tableau when folks were trying to keep awake at eleven + o'clock. The brook came babbling down over rocks and was conveyed + off-stage by means of a V-shaped spout. There was much merriment when the + audience discovered that the brook could be heard running uphill behind + the scenes; two hobble-de-hoy boys were dipping the water with pails from + the washboiler at the end of the sluice and lugging it upstairs, where + they dumped it into the brook's fount. The brook's peripatetic qualities + were emphasized when both boys fell off the top of the makeshift stairs + and came down over the rocks, pails and all. Then there was hilarity which + fairly rocked the hall. + </p> + <p> + For some moments another sound—a sound which did not harmonize with + the laughter—was disregarded by the audience. + </p> + <p> + All at once the folks realized that a man was squalling discordantly—his + shrieks almost as shrill as a frightened porker's squeals. Heads were + snapped around. Eyes saw Dorsey, the municipal watchman, almost the only + man of the village of Egypt who was not of the evening's audience in Town + Hall. He was standing on a settee at the extreme rear of the auditorium. + He was swinging his arms wildly; as wildly was he shouting. He noted that + he had secured their attention. + </p> + <p> + “How in damnation can you laugh” he screamed. “The bank has been robbed + and the cashier murdered!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + A BANK TURNED INSIDE OUT + </h3> + <p> + When the skeow-wowed “brook” twisted the drama into an anticlimax of + comicality, the players who were on the stage escaped the deluge by + fleeing into the wings. + </p> + <p> + Vona had been waiting for her cue to join the hero and pledge their vows + beside the babbling stream. After one horrified gasp of amazement, she led + off the hilarity back-stage. Frank was in her mind at that moment, as he + had been all the evening; her zestful enjoyment of the affair was + heightened by the thought that she could help him forget his troubles for + a little while by the story she would carry to him. Then she and the + others in the group heard the piercing squeals of a man's voice. + </p> + <p> + “Somebody has got hystierucks out of it, and I don't blame him,” stated + the manager of the show. He grabbed the handle of the winch and began to + let down the curtain. “I reckon the only sensible thing to do is to let + Brook Number One and Brook Number Two take the curtain call.” + </p> + <p> + Then Dorsey's shrill insistence prevailed over the roars of laughter in + front; the young folks on the stage heard his bloodcurdling bulletin. + </p> + <p> + The manager let slip the whirling handle and the pole of the hurrying + curtain thumped the platform. Vona had leaped, risking her life, and was + able to dodge under the descending pole. For a moment, sick with horror + and unutterable woe, she stood there alone against the tawdry curtain, as + wide-eyed and white-faced as Tragedy's muse. + </p> + <p> + Men, women, and children, all the folks of Egypt, were struggling to their + feet; the sliding settees squawked and clattered. + </p> + <p> + She saw Tasper Britt, fighting a path for himself, Starr following. + Britt's face, above his blackened beard, was yellow-pale. + </p> + <p> + Panic was piling the people at the narrow rear doors; the weight of those + who were rushing forward wedged all the mass at the exits. + </p> + <p> + “Vona!” called the manager, pulling at the edge of the curtain to give her + passage. “This way! The side door.” + </p> + <p> + The summons helped to put away her faintness; her strength came back to + her. Her goal was the bank! In the frenzy of her solicitude for her lover + she took no thought of herself. + </p> + <p> + The others stopped to find their wraps. Vona ran down the street as she + was, bareheaded, the ribbons of her stage finery fluttering. She was close + behind the first arrivals at the open door of Britt Block. All the other + portals were wide open, bank door and grille door. But the door of the + vault was closed. + </p> + <p> + She thrust herself resolutely through the group of men and made a frenzied + survey of the bank's interior. Her single quest was for Vaniman; he was + nowhere in sight. The books of account were open on the desk, mute + evidence for her that he had been interrupted suddenly. + </p> + <p> + She voiced demands in shrill tones, but the men had no information for + her. She called his name wildly and there was no reply. + </p> + <p> + “I found the outside door open,” said Dorsey, raucously hoarse. “I came + in, and all was just as you see it.” + </p> + <p> + “But you said that he—that Frank—” Vona pressed her hands + against her throat; she could not voice the terrible announcement that + Dorsey had made. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if it ain't that, what else is it?” insisted the watchman. + </p> + <p> + Then Tasper Britt arrived in the room, followed by the bank examiner; they + entered, breathing heavily and running with the tread of Percherons. + </p> + <p> + “If it ain't murder and robbery, what is it, Mr. Britt?” Dorsey bawled, + evidently feeling the authority was then on the scene and was demanding + report and action. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know—I don't know!” the president quavered, staggering to + the grille and clutching the wires with both hands in order to steady + himself. He was palpably, unmistakably stricken with a fear that was + overpowering him. + </p> + <p> + The outer office was filling; the corridor was being packed by the + arriving throngs. + </p> + <p> + Examiner Starr took command of the situation. He noted the nickel badge on + Dorsey's breast. “Officer, put every person except Mr. Britt out of this + building!” + </p> + <p> + But Watchman Dorsey, though he commanded and pushed, was not able to make + any impression. + </p> + <p> + “By my authority as bank examiner, I order this place cleared!” bellowed + Mr. Starr. The folks of Egypt showed that they were greatly interested in + the volume of voice possessed by “Foghorn Fremont,” but they did not + retreat. For that matter, the crowd in the room was thoroughly blocked at + the door by the press in the corridor. + </p> + <p> + Starr's attention was wholly taken up by one individual for the next few + minutes. Prophet Elias boldly advanced, after worming his way out of the + throng; he pushed the examiner aside from the door of the grille and went + into the inner inclosure. An intruder who was prosaically garbed would not + have prevailed as easily as this bizarre individual with the deep-set + eyes, assertive mien, and wearing a robe that put him out of the ordinary + run of humanity. But Mr. Starr got back his voice and ordered the Prophet + to walk out. + </p> + <p> + Elias turned slowly and faced Starr. The Prophet's feet were hidden by the + robe and he came around with the effect of a window dummy revolving on a + support. Starr bawled more furious demands. + </p> + <p> + But the Prophet did not lower his crest. “'Many bulls have compassed me: + strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round. They gaped upon me with their + mouths, as a ravening and a roaring lion.'” + </p> + <p> + Then the Prophet spatted his palm upon the legend on his breast and + clacked a disdainful digit off the pivot of his thumb. Tasper Britt, even + in his hottest ire, had been restrained in the past by some influence from + laying violent hands on this peculiar personage. It was evident that Starr + was controlled by a similar reluctance and that his forbearance was + puzzling him. When the Prophet got down on his knees, Starr was silent; it + looked as if this zealot intended to offer prayer—and the bank + examiner did not care to earn the reputation of being a disturber of a + religious gathering. But Elias doubled over and began to crawl around the + room on his hands and knees, peering intently and cocking his ear and + seeming to take much interest in his undertaking. + </p> + <p> + Until then, in the rush of events, in the haste of gathering at the scene + of the tragedy, in the wild uncertainty as to what had happened, nobody + had taken the time to study the details of the conditions in the bank + inclosure. + </p> + <p> + Starr ordered Dorsey to stand in front of the grille door and keep out all + persons. The examiner was obliged to urge Britt to unclasp his hands and + follow him before the door was closed and locked against the crowd. + </p> + <p> + Vona had stumbled to a chair; she was staring about her, trying to control + her horror and steady her mind so that she might comprehend what had + happened. Under a stool she saw a crumpled coat; she leaped from her + chair, secured it, and sat down again. It was Frank's office coat; both + sleeves were ripped and the back breadths were torn. She held it forward + in her shaking hands for the inspection of the bank examiner. But Mr. + Starr was too intent on other matters to take heed of the pathetic proof + of violence. He was particularly concerned with what he had found in one + corner. + </p> + <p> + Literally, thousands of small metal disks were heaped and scattered there. + Some of the disks had rolled to all parts of the room. The Prophet had + been scraping up handfuls of them, inspecting them, and throwing them + toward the corner where the main mass lay. + </p> + <p> + Starr picked up some of them. They were iron; each disk was perforated. + </p> + <p> + There were many canvas sacks near the heap of disks; the sacks were ripped + and empty. Mr. Starr secured one of them. Its mouth was closed with the + seal with which specie sacks are usually secured. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Starr saw something else in the corner, an object at which he + peered; the gloom made the results of his scrutiny uncertain. He stooped + and picked up that object, making it the third of the trinity of exhibits. + It was a large square of pasteboard, the backing of an advertising + calendar. Starr carried it to the lamp on the table. There was writing on + the placard. The characters were large and sprawling. The bank examiner + tapped his finger on the writing, calling for the attention of the + anguished president. The legend read: + </p> + <p> + This is a <i>hell</i> of a bank! + </p> + <p> + “Britt, if this is a sample of your whole stock of specie,” Starr rumbled, + holding a disk between thumb and forefinger, “the profanity is sort of + excused by the emphasis needed. I really think I would have been obliged + to say the same, after counting up.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't understand it,” the president muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Did you suppose you carried actual coin in those bags?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—gold and some silver.” + </p> + <p> + “Had you counted it?” + </p> + <p> + “I left the checking up to the cashier.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do you think your cashier is, right now?” + </p> + <p> + Britt flapped his hands, helplessly confessing that he did not know. + </p> + <p> + In all the room there was a profound hush. The crowd had been straining + aural nerves, trying to hear what was being said by the men in authority. + </p> + <p> + Nobody had been paying any attention to Prophet Elias, who had been + crawling like a torpid caterpillar. For some moments he had been rigidly + motionless in one spot. He was leaning against the front of the vault, his + ear closely pressed to the crevice at the base of the door. + </p> + <p> + He straightened up on his knees and shouted in such stentorian tones that + all in the room jerked their muscles in sudden fright. “Swine! Fools!” + </p> + <p> + They gaped at him. + </p> + <p> + “Whilst you're shouting amongst your trash a man is dying on the other + side of the door!” + </p> + <p> + Vona leaped from her chair. She shrieked. She ran to the door and beat her + fists against the steel, futilely and furiously. + </p> + <p> + “In there lies your money-changer, I tell you, Pharaoh, lord of Egypt,” + the Prophet shouted. “I hear his groans!” + </p> + <p> + Britt and Starr rushed to the vault and both of them strove clumsily and + ineffectually with the mechanism, giving up their attempts after a few + moments. + </p> + <p> + “It's no use!” Britt gulped. “The time lock must be on.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, for the rod of Moses and the ancient faith that smote the rock in + twain!” pleaded the Prophet. + </p> + <p> + “We'd better use rendrock, seeing that we can't depend on a miracle,” + called a practical citizen from behind the grille. + </p> + <p> + “Get sledge hammers and chisels,” shouted somebody else, and there + followed a surging of the throng, indicating that concerted action was + following the suggestion. + </p> + <p> + The face of the president was twisted by grimaces which resembled spasms. + “Wait! Wait a moment! There may be a way!” he called, chokingly. “Let me + out through there!” + </p> + <p> + Then Vona gave over her insane efforts to pry open the vault door with her + finger nails. She ran out past Starr, who stopped to lock the grille door. + The examiner was too much taken up by other matters to bother with the + Prophet, who held to his place at the vault door and was intently + scrutinizing something which he found of interest. + </p> + <p> + Vona forced herself through the press, in company with Starr, and was at + Britt's elbow when he unlocked his office door. He tried to keep her out + and called to Dorsey. But she slipped past while the door was open to + admit Starr's bulky form. Inside, she turned on Britt, who was in the + doorway. + </p> + <p> + “You don't dare to keep me out, Mr. Britt!” She stamped her foot. Her eyes + blazed. “You don't dare!” + </p> + <p> + He blinked and entered and locked the door. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + VIA THE PRESIDENT'S PRIVATE WAY + </h3> + <p> + There was a hanging lamp in Britt's office, and the president hastened to + light it. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that there's another way of entering that bank vault?” + Starr demanded when Britt began to twirl the knob of a steel door that + guarded his private vault. “I'm beginning to think that the fellow who + wrote on that placard had this joint sized up mighty well.” + </p> + <p> + Britt went on with the working of the combination. He was deeply stirred; + his excitement had made his temper touchy. “I know of no reason why the + president of a bank isn't allowed access to the vault.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not, under proper conditions, but we'll discuss that matter + later, Britt. Right now I'm all-fired glad you can get in.” He sneered + when he added, “Perhaps a regular, time-locked vault does need a safety + outlet. I may recommend it for all state banks.” + </p> + <p> + Vona took her stand close to the door, trembling with passionate + eagerness. Constantly she appealed to Britt to hurry. When he finally + swung open the door she leaped into the vault. He dragged her back, + handling her roughly, harshly telling her that it was no place for a girl. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think it is, either,” agreed Starr. “We seem to have considerable + love mixed in with this situation, young woman, but this is not the time + for it.” + </p> + <p> + He crowded past her, at the back of Britt. + </p> + <p> + The man ahead stopped and fumbled at what seemed to be a wall of concrete; + he pushed open a narrow door which fitted so closely that it had seemed to + be a part of the wall. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Starr grunted. + </p> + <p> + There was a passage at the right of the inner safe. The light from the + lamp outside shed dim radiance. Britt descended a short flight of cement + steps, and Starr, following groping with his feet, realized that the way + led under the floor of the corridor. He was obliged to crouch almost + double in order to avoid the ceiling. + </p> + <p> + There was another flight of stairs leading up to the floor level. + </p> + <p> + The two men, mounting the stairs, heard groans. + </p> + <p> + Vona, undeterred by her treatment, had followed closely on Starr's heels. + She urged them to hurry, calling hysterically. + </p> + <p> + Again the man ahead fumbled at what seemed to be solid wall. Again he was + able to open a door of concrete. + </p> + <p> + But Britt, when he was through the narrow door in the lead, was blocked + and stopped. He lighted a match. One leaf of the double doors of the inner + safe of the bank vault was flung back across the narrow passage. He + dropped the stub of the match and pushed. The door moved only a few + inches; it was opposed by something on the other side. The president + lighted another match and held it while he peered over the door; there was + a space between the top of the door and the ceiling. “It's Vaniman,” he + reported, huskily. “He's lying against this door. I can't push it any + further. He's wedged against the front of the vault.” + </p> + <p> + Then Starr lighted a match. He noted that the space above the door was too + narrow for his bulk or Britt's. + </p> + <p> + “Go tell the guard to send in a chap that's slim and spry,” the examiner + commanded the girl. “We've got to boost somebody in over that door.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go. I must go. I'm bound and determined to go!” she insisted, + pulling at him, trying to crowd past him. + </p> + <p> + But it was necessary for Starr and Britt to follow her to the wider space + below the corridor in order to allow her to pass them. They demurred, + still, but she hurried back up the stairs. Britt knelt and gave her his + shoulders to serve as a mounting block. She swung herself over the door, + and by the light of the match that Starr held she was able to avoid + stepping on the prostrate figure when she lowered herself to the floor. + </p> + <p> + The men outside in the passage detected the odor of chloroform. + </p> + <p> + “I have lifted him,” the girl cried. “Push back the door.” + </p> + <p> + Britt obeyed. Then he and Starr took the unconscious cashier by shoulders + and heels and carried him to the private office. + </p> + <p> + Britt's office conveniences did not include a couch; the men propped + Vaniman in the desk chair and Vona crouched beside him and took his head + on her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + There were no visible marks of injury. He gave off the scent of + chloroform. His wrists were crossed in front of him and were secured with + a noose of tape. Starr picked up shears from Britt's desk and cut the + tape. “Where's your doctor? Get him in here.” + </p> + <p> + “He lives in another part of the town. I didn't see him at the hall + to-night,” said Britt. “I'll send for him.” + </p> + <p> + But Vaniman began to show such promising symptoms that the president + delayed the message. + </p> + <p> + There seemed to be magic in the touch of Vona's caressing palm on the + stricken man's forehead; the words she was murmuring in his ear were + stirring his faculties. He opened his eyes and stared at her and at the + two men, vague wonderment in his expression. + </p> + <p> + “What is it—what has happened?” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + “That's what we want to know,” said Starr. “What did happen? Who got afoul + of you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. Who brought me in here?” + </p> + <p> + “We got you out of the bank vault and brought you here by the way of + Britt's private passage.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman seemed to find that statement unconvincing. + </p> + <p> + “He didn't know about that passage,” stammered the president. “I—I + never bothered to speak about it. I suppose I ought to have told you, + Frank. That cement panel is a door—with the handle on this side.” + </p> + <p> + The cashier shook his head slowly, as if giving up the attempt to + understand. + </p> + <p> + “I guess the panel fits so closely that you never noticed it was a door,” + Britt went on, with the manner of one trying to set himself right. “I + meant to tell you about it.” + </p> + <p> + “But what happened?” the examiner insisted. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here! You must know something!” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Starr, this is no time to shout and bellow at this poor boy who has + barely got his senses back,” Vona protested, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't blame Mr. Starr, dear,” said the cashier, patting her hand. + “Of course, he and Mr. Britt are much stirred up over the thing. I'm not + trying to hide anything, gentlemen. You say you found me in the vault! + What is the condition of things in the bank?” He struggled and sat up + straighter in the chair. He was showing intense anxiety as his senses + cleared. + </p> + <p> + Examiner Starr, though present officially, was in no mood to make any + report on bank conditions just then. “Vaniman, you'd better do your + talking first.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell all I know about it. I was working on the books, my attention + very much taken up, of course. I felt a sudden shock, as I remember it. + Everything went black. As to what has been going on from that moment, + whenever it was, till I woke up here, I'll have to depend on you for + information.” + </p> + <p> + “That's straight, is it?” demanded the examiner, grimly. + </p> + <p> + “On my honor, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a lot to be opened out and what you have said doesn't help.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could help more. I understand fully what a fix I'm in unless + this whole muddle is cleared up,” confessed the cashier, plaintively. He + had been putting his hand to his head. “I think I must have been stunned + by a blow.” + </p> + <p> + Starr, without asking permission, ran his hand over Vaniman's head. “No + especially big lump anywhere!” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman spanned a space on his head between thumb and forefinger. “I feel + a particular ache right about there, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Britt, get down that lamp!” + </p> + <p> + The president brought the lamp from the hanging bracket and held it close + to Vaniman's head while Starr carefully parted the hair and inspected. + “There's a red strip, but it's not much swollen,” he reported. “Of course, + we know all about those rubber wallopers that—But this is not a time + for guesswork. Now, Vaniman, how about this chloroform odor? Remember + anything about an attempt to snuff you that way?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you wait until to-morrow and let Frank's mind clear up?” Vona + pleaded. She had been standing with her arm about the young man's + shoulders, insisting on holding her position even when Starr crowded close + in making his survey of the cashier's cranium. + </p> + <p> + “Young woman, the first statements in any affair are the best statements + when there's a general, all-round desire to get to bottom facts,” said the + examiner, sternly. + </p> + <p> + “That's my desire, sir,” declared Vaniman, earnestly. “But I have told you + all I know.” + </p> + <p> + President Britt had replaced the lamp in the bracket. He waited for a + moment while Starr regarded the cashier with uncompromising stare, as if + meditating a more determined onslaught in the way of the third degree. + Britt, restraining himself during the interview, had managed to steady + himself somewhat, but he was much perturbed. He ventured to put in a word. + “Mr. Starr, don't you think that Vona's idea is a good one—give + Frank a good night's rest? He may be able to tell us a whole lot more in + the morning.” + </p> + <p> + Then the bank examiner delivered the crusher that he had been holding in + reserve. “Vaniman, you may be able to tell me in the morning, if not now, + how it happens that all your specie bags were filled with—not with + the gold coin that ought to have been there, but with”—Starr + advanced close to the cashier and shook a big finger—“mere metal + disks!” He shouted the last words. + </p> + <p> + Whether Starr perceived any proof of innocence in Vaniman's expression—mouth + opening, eyes wide, face white with the pallor of threatened collapse—the + bank examiner did not reveal by any expression of his own. + </p> + <p> + “This is wicked—wicked!” gasped Vona. + </p> + <p> + “Young woman, step away!” Starr yanked her arm from Vaniman's shoulder and + pushed her to one side. “Did you know <i>that</i>, Mr. Cashier—suspect + that—have any least idea of that?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not know it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you know it?” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman tried to say something sensible about this astounding condition of + affairs and failed to utter a word, he shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “How had you verified the specie?” + </p> + <p> + “By checking the sacks as received—by weighing them.” + </p> + <p> + “Expect somebody else to take 'em in the course of business on the same + basis?” + </p> + <p> + “I was intending—” + </p> + <p> + Starr waited for the explanation and then urged the cashier out of his + silence. + </p> + <p> + “I intended to have President Britt and a committee of the directors count + up the coin with me, sir. But it can't be possible—not with the + Sub-treasury seal—not after—” + </p> + <p> + “If you're able to walk, you'd better go over into the bank and take a + look at what was in those sacks, Mr. Cashier.” The examiner put a sardonic + twist upon the appellation. “The sight may help your thoughts while you + are running over the matter in your mind between now and to-morrow + morning.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman rose from the chair. He was flushed. “Mr. Starr, I protest against + this attitude you're taking! From the very start you have acted as if I am + a guilty man—guilty of falsifying accounts, and now of stealing the + bank's money.” + </p> + <p> + There was so much fire in Vaniman's resentment that Starr was taken down a + few pegs. He replied in a milder tone: “I don't intend to put any name on + to the thing as it stands. But I'm here to examine a bank, and I find a + combination of crazy bookkeeping and a junk shop. My feelings are to be + excused.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll admit that, sir. But you found something else! You found me in the + vault, you say. It is plain that I was shut in that vault with the time + lock on; otherwise it wouldn't have been necessary to lug me out by that + other way, whatever it is!” He snapped accusatory gesture at the open door + of Britt's vault and flashed equally accusatory gaze at the president. “Do + you think I was trying to commit suicide by that kind of lingering agony?” + </p> + <p> + “Seeing how you admit that you excuse my feelings, Vaniman, I'll admit, + for my part, that you've certainly got me on that point. It doesn't look + like a sensible plan of doing away with yourself, provided there is any + sense in suicide, anyway! You say you were not aware of Mr. Britt's + private passage?” he quizzed. + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly I knew nothing about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose, however, the vault door is time-locked. To be sure, we were + pretty much excited when we tried to open it—” + </p> + <p> + “Verily, ye were!” + </p> + <p> + The voice was deep and solemn. The sound jumped the four persons in + Britt's office. Framed in the door of Britt's vault was Prophet Elias. + </p> + <p> + “How did you get in here?” thundered “Foghorn Fremont,” first to get his + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Not by smiting with the rod of Moses,” returned the Prophet, considerable + ire in his tone. “I pulled open the door of the bank vault and walked in.” + </p> + <p> + “Britt, you'd better put up a sign of 'Lunatic Avenue' over that passage + and invite a general parade through,” barked Starr. “I've had plenty of + nightmares in my life, but never anything to equal this one, take it by + and large!” + </p> + <p> + It was evident from President Britt's countenance that a great many + emotions were struggling in him; but the prevailing expression—the + one which seemed to embrace all the modifications of his emotions—indicated + that he felt thoroughly sick. He gazed at the open door of his vault and + looked as a man might appear after realizing that the presentation of a + wooden popgun had made him turn over his pocketbook to a robber. “Walked + in? <i>Walked</i> in?” he reiterated. + </p> + <p> + The stress of the occasion seemed to have made the Prophet less incoherent + than was his wont; or perhaps he found no texts to fit this situation. “I + did not dive through your solid steel, Pharaoh! I used my eyes, after I + had used my ears. Here!” His fists had been doubled. He unclasped his + hands and held them forward. In each palm was one of the metal disks. + “Your bank-vault door was trigged with these—wedged in the crack of + the outer flange. I saw, I pulled hard on the big handle—and here I + am!” + </p> + <p> + “But the bolts—” Starr stopped, trying to remember about the bolts. + </p> + <p> + “The bolts were not shot. You were trying to push back what had already + been pushed.” + </p> + <p> + Starr began to scratch the back of his head, in the process tipping his + hat low over his eyes. He turned those eyes on Vaniman. “Speaking of + pushing—of being able to push—” But the examiner did not allow + himself to go any farther at that time. “Vaniman,” he blurted, after a few + moments of meditation, “I want you to volunteer to do something—of + your own free will, understand!” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman, pallid again, was fully aware of the effect of this new + revelation on his position, already more than questionable. “I'll follow + any suggestion, of my own free will, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “We'd better arrange to have a private talk to-night before we go to + sleep, and another talk when we wake up. I suggest that you come to the + tavern and lodge with me.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a good plan, Mr. Starr,” the cashier returned, bravely. + </p> + <p> + But in the distressed glance which Frank and Vona exchanged they both + confessed that they knew he was politely and unofficially under arrest. + </p> + <p> + “I'll keep Dorsey on the premises and will stay here, myself,” proffered + the president. “You can be sure that things will take no harm during the + night, Mr. Starr.” + </p> + <p> + “So far as your bank goes, there doesn't seem to be much left to harm, + Britt,” snapped back the examiner. He fished one of the disks from his + vest pocket and surveyed it grimly. “As to these assets, whatever they may + be, I don't think you need to fear—except that small boys may want + to steal 'em to use for sinkers or to scale on the water next summer. What + are they, anyway? Does anybody know?” + </p> + <p> + Britt had plucked one of the disks from his pocket and was inspecting it. + He hastened to say that he had never seen anything of the sort till that + evening. + </p> + <p> + Prophet Elias seemed to be taking no further interest in affairs. He went + to the door leading into the corridor. It was locked. “I'd like to get + out,” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Now that the other way through the vaults had become the main-traveled + avenue of the village, why don't you go out as you came in?” was Starr's + sardonic query. + </p> + <p> + The Prophet was not ruffled. “I would gladly do so, but the door of the + grille is locked.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that accounts for the fact that everybody else in Egypt isn't in this + office on your heels! Britt, let him out!” + </p> + <p> + The president obeyed, unlocking the door, and the Prophet joined the crowd + in the corridor. Starr went to the door and addressed the folks. “Allow me + to call your attention, such of you as are handy to this door, to Cashier + Vaniman.” He jerked a gesture over his shoulder. “You can see that he is + all right. We are giving out no information to-night. I order you, one and + all, to leave this building at once. I mean business!” + </p> + <p> + He waited till the movement of the populace began, gave Dorsey some sharp + commands, and banged the door. But when he turned to face those in the + office he reached behind himself and opened the door again; the sight of + the girl had prompted him. “I suggest that this is a good time for you to + be going along, Miss Harnden. You'll have plenty of company.” + </p> + <p> + But she showed no inclination to go. She was exhibiting something like a + desperate resolve. “Will you please shut the door, Mr. Starr?” + </p> + <p> + He obeyed. + </p> + <p> + “It's in regard to those disks! They are coat weights!” + </p> + <p> + Starr fished out his souvenir once more and inspected it; his face showed + that he had not been illuminated especially. + </p> + <p> + “Women understand such things better than men, of course,” she went on. + “Dressmakers stitch those weights into the lower edges of women's suit + coats to make the fabric drape properly and hang without wrinkling.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a woman and you probably know what you're talking about on that + line,” admitted the examiner. “But because you're a woman I don't suppose + you can tell me how coat weights happen to be the main cash assets of this + bank!” Mr. Starr's manner expressed fully his contemptuous convictions on + that point. + </p> + <p> + “I certainly cannot say how those weights happen to be in the bank, sir. + But I feel that this is the time for everybody in our town to give in + every bit of information that will help to clear up this terrible thing. + I'm taking that attitude for myself, Mr. Starr, and I hope that all others + are going to be as frank.” She gave President Britt a fearless stare of + challenge. “My father has recently had a great deal of new courage about + some of the inventions he hopes to put through. He has told me that Mr. + Britt is backing him financially.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father is everlastingly shinning up a moonbeam, and you know it,” + declared Britt. + </p> + <p> + Starr shook his hand, pinching the disk between thumb and forefinger. + “Young woman, I'm interested only in this, if you have any information to + give me in regard to it.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman was displaying an interest of his own that was but little short of + amazement. + </p> + <p> + “The information I have is this, sir! My father said that Mr. Britt's help + had enabled him to start in manufacturing a patent door which requires the + use of many washers with small holes, and he was saying at home that he'd + be obliged to have them turned out by a blacksmith. I happened to be + making over something for mother and I had some coat weights on my table. + I showed them to my father and he said they were just the thing. He found + out where they were made and he ordered a quantity—they came in + little kegs and he stored them in the stable. That's all, Mr. Starr!” + </p> + <p> + “All? Go ahead and tell me—” + </p> + <p> + “I have told you all I know, sir! That's the stand I'm taking, whatever + may come up. If you expect me to tell you that these are the disks my + father stored in the stable, I shall do no such thing. The kegs and the + disks may be there right now, for all I know.” She faced the examiner with + an intrepidity which made that gentleman blink. It was plain enough that + he wanted to say something—but he did not venture to say it. + </p> + <p> + “And now I'll go! I think my father must be out there waiting for me. If + you care to stay here long enough, I'll have him hurry back from our home + and report whether the kegs are still in the stable.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll wait, Miss Harnden!” Starr opened the door. + </p> + <p> + After she had gone, Britt closed the door of his vault and shot the bolts. + </p> + <p> + The three men kept off the dangerous topic except as they conferred on the + pressing business in hand. They helped Dorsey hurry the lingerers from the + building. Then they went into the bank, stored the books in the vault, and + locked it. + </p> + <p> + Starr, especially intent on collecting all items of evidence, found in the + vault, when he entered, a cloth that gave off the odor of chloroform. On + one corner of the cloth was a loop by which it could be suspended from a + hook. + </p> + <p> + “Is this cloth anything that has been about the premises?” asked the + official. + </p> + <p> + “It's Vona's dustcloth,” stated Britt. He had watched the girl too closely + o' mornings not to know that cloth! + </p> + <p> + That information seemed to prick Starr's memory on another point. From his + trousers pocket he dug the tape which he had cut from Vaniman's wrists. He + glanced about the littered floor. There was the remnant of a roll of tape + on the floor. Mr. Starr wrapped the fragment of tape in a sheet of paper + along with the roll. + </p> + <p> + Then Mr. Harnden arrived. The outer door had been left open for him. He + had run so fast that his breath came in whistles with the effect of a + penny squawker. As the movie scenarios put it, he “got over,” with + gestures and breathless mouthings rather than stated in so many words, + that the kegs of disks were gone—all of them. + </p> + <p> + Replying with asthmatic difficulty to questions put to him by Starr, Mr. + Harnden stated that he could not say with any certainty when the kegs had + been taken, nor could he guess who had taken them. He kept no horse or cow + and had not been into the stable since he put the kegs there. The stable + was not locked. He had always had full faith in the honesty of his + fellow-man, said the optimist. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Starr allowed that he had always tried to feel that way, too, but + stated that he had been having his feelings pretty severely wrenched since + he had arrived in the town of Egypt. + </p> + <p> + Then he and Vaniman left the bank to go to the tavern. + </p> + <p> + Outside the door, a statue of patience, Squire Hexter was waiting. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't use my pull as a director to get underfoot in there, Brother + Starr. No, just as soon as I heard that the boy, here, was all right I + stepped out and coaxed out all the others I could prevail on. What has + been done about starting the general hue and cry about those robbers?” + </p> + <p> + Starr stammered when he said that he supposed that the local constable had + notified the sheriff. + </p> + <p> + “I attended to that, myself! Dorsey could think of only one thing at a + time. But I reckoned you had taken some steps to make the call more + official. The state police ought to be on the job.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll attend to it.” But Mr. Starr did not display particularly urgent + zeal. + </p> + <p> + “Well, son, we'll toddle home! What say?” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman did not say. He was choking. Reaction and grief and anxiety were + unnerving him. Starr did the saying. “The cashier and I have a lot of + things to go over, Squire, and he plans to spend the night with me at the + tavern.” + </p> + <p> + “I see!” returned the notary, amiably, showing no surprise. He called a + cheery “Good night!” when he left them at the tavern door. + </p> + <p> + Landlord Files gave them a room with two beds. Without making any bones of + the thing, Examiner Starr pushed his bed across the door and then turned + in and snored with the abandon of one who had relieved himself of the + responsibility of keeping vigil. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + LOOKED AT SQUARELY + </h3> + <p> + The bank examiner and the cashier were down early to breakfast. + </p> + <p> + Starr had slept well and was vigorously alert. Vaniman was haggard and + visibly worried. Both of them were reticent. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman felt that he had nothing to say, as matters stood. + </p> + <p> + Starr was thinking, rather than talking. He snapped up Files when the + landlord meekly inquired whether there were any clews. Files retreated in + a panic. + </p> + <p> + “Vaniman,” said the examiner, when they pulled on their coats under the + alligator's gaping espionage, “this is going to be my busy day and I hope + you feel like pitching into this thing with me, helping to your utmost.” + </p> + <p> + “You can depend on me, Mr. Starr.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't intend to bother you with any questions at present except to ask + about the routine business of the bank. So you can have your mind free on + that point.” + </p> + <p> + They went to the bank and relieved Britt. + </p> + <p> + “Go get your breakfast and come back here as soon as you can,” Starr + commanded, plunging into matters with the air of the sole captain of the + craft. “And call a meeting of the directors.” + </p> + <p> + The examiner had brought a brief-case along with him from the tavern. He + pulled out a card. Britt winced when he saw what was printed on the card. + </p> + <p> + THIS BANK CLOSED + </p> + <p> + pending examination of resources and liabilities and + </p> + <p> + auditing of accounts. Per order STATE BANK EXAMINERS. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Starr ordered Britt to tack that card on the outer door. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't there any other way but this?” asked the president. + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing else to be done—certainly not! I'm afraid the + institution is in a bad way, Britt. You say you have been calling regular + loans in order to build up a cash reserve—and your cash isn't in + sight. I reckon it means that the stockholders will be assessed the full + hundred per cent of liability.” + </p> + <p> + He bolted the bank door behind the president. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Vaniman, did you find out anything sensible about those books, as + far as you got last evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Only that the accounts seem to have been willfully tangled up.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we'll let that part of the thing hang. Get out letters to + depositors, calling in all pass books.” + </p> + <p> + After Vaniman had set himself down to that task, Starr went about his + business briskly. He prepared telegrams and sent his charioteer to put + them on the wire at Levant. Those messages were intended to set in + operation the state police, a firm of licensed auditors, the security + company which had bonded the bank's officials, the insurance corporation + which guaranteed the Egypt Trust Company against loss by burglars. Then + Starr proceeded with the usual routine of examination as conducted when + banks are going concerns. + </p> + <p> + For the next few days Egypt was on the map. + </p> + <p> + Ike Jones was obliged to put extra pungs on to his stage line for the + accommodation of visitors who included accountants, newspaper reporters, + insurance men, and security representatives. + </p> + <p> + Finally, so far as Starr's concern was involved, the affairs of the Egypt + Trust Company were shaken down into something like coherence. The apparent + errors in the books, when they had been checked by pass books and notes + and securities, were resolved into a mere wanton effort to mix things up. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Starr took occasion to reassure Miss Harnden in regard to those books; + during the investigation the girl had been working with Vaniman in the + usual double-hitch arrangement which had prevailed before the day of the + disaster. The two plodded steadily, faithfully, silently, under the orders + of the examiner. + </p> + <p> + “Now that I've seen you at work, Miss Harnden, I eliminate carelessness + and stupidity as the reasons for the books being as they are. That's the + way I'm going at this thing—by the process of elimination. I'm going + to say more! I'm eliminating you as being consciously responsible for any + of the wrongdoing in this bank. That's about as far as I've got in the + matter of elimination.” He thumped his fist on a ledger. “It looks to me + as if somebody had started to put something over by mixing these figures + and had been tripped before finishing the job.” + </p> + <p> + Then Mr. Starr, as if to show his appreciation of a worthy young woman + whom he had treated in rather cavalier fashion at their first meeting, + made her clerk to the receiver; the receiver was Almon Waite, an amiable + old professor of mathematics, retired, who had come back to Egypt to pass + his last days with his son. Examiner Starr, having taken it upon himself + to put the Egypt Trust case through, had found in Professor Waite a handy + sort of a soft rubber stamp. + </p> + <p> + Every afternoon, day by day, Starr had remarked casually to Vaniman, + “Seeing that we have so many things to talk over, you'd better lodge with + me at the hotel to-night!” And daily Vaniman agreed without a flicker of + an eyelid. In view of the fact that both of them kept sedulously off the + bank business after hours, there was a perfect understanding between the + examiner and the cashier as to what this espionage meant. And Vaniman knew + perfectly well just why a chap named Bixby was in town! + </p> + <p> + Having a pretty good knowledge of Starr's general opinions and prejudices, + the cashier had squared himself to meet things as they came along. Once or + twice Starr gave the young man an opportunity to come across with + explanations or defense. Vaniman kept silent. + </p> + <p> + The cashier explained his sentiments to Vona. “It's mighty little + ammunition I've got, dear! All I can do now is to keep it dry, and wait + till I can see the whites of the enemy's eyes.” + </p> + <p> + He refrained from any comment on the identity of the enemy. He did not + need to name names to Vona. The attitude of Tasper Britt, who kept by + himself in his own office; who offered not one word of suggestion or + explanation or consolation; who surveyed Vaniman, when the two met at the + tavern, with the reproachful stare of the benefactor who had been betrayed—Britt's + attitude was sufficiently significant. Vaniman was waiting to see what + Britt would do in the crisis that was approaching. “At any rate, I must + keep silent until I'm directly accused, Vona. Starr is regularly talking + with Britt. If I begin now to defend myself by telling about Britt's + operations, I'll merely be handing weapons to the enemy. They can't + surprise me by any charge they may bring! I have got myself stiffened up + to that point. You must make up your mind that it's coming. Pile up + courage beforehand!” + </p> + <p> + It was a valiant little speech. But he was obliged to strive heroically to + make his countenance fit his words of courage. In facing the situation + squarely he had been trying to make an estimate of the state of mind in + Egypt. He bitterly decided that the folks were lining up against the + outlander. As hateful as Britt had made himself, he was Egyptian, born and + bred. Vaniman knew what the wreck of the little bank signified in that + town, which was already staggering under its debt burden. How that bank + had been wrecked was not clear to Vaniman, even when he gave the thing + profound consideration. He did not dare to declare to himself all that he + suspected of the president. Nor did he dare to believe that Britt would + dump the whole burden on the cashier. However, if Britt undertook such a + play of perfidy, the outlander knew that the native would have the + advantage in the exchange of accusation. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman perceived the existing state of affairs in the demeanor of the men + whom he met on the street, going to and from the tavern. He heard some of + their remarks. He strove to keep a calm face while his soul burned! + </p> + <p> + Then, at last, Examiner Starr acted. He employed peculiar methods to fit a + peculiar case. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon Starr sat and stared for some time at Vaniman. They were + alone in the bank. Receiver Waite and Vona had gone away. + </p> + <p> + “Would you relish a little show?” inquired the examiner. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman had nerved himself against all kinds of surprise, he thought, but + he was not prepared for this proffer of entertainment. He frankly declared + that he did not understand. + </p> + <p> + “Seeing that you are doubtful, we'll have the show, anyway, and you can + tell me later whether or not you relish it.” He opened the door and + called. Bixby came in. It was evident that Bixby had been waiting. + </p> + <p> + “All ready!” said Starr. + </p> + <p> + “All right!” said Bixby. + </p> + <p> + “I'll say that Bixby, here, is an operator from a detective agency, in + case you don't know it,” explained the examiner. + </p> + <p> + “I do know it, sir!” + </p> + <p> + Bixby pulled off his overcoat. Under it he wore a mohair office coat. He + yanked off that garment, ripped the sleeves, tore the back breadth, and + threw the coat under a stool. Then he secured a dustcloth from a hook, + produced a small vial of chloroform, and poured some of the liquid on the + cloth. He poured more of the chloroform on his hair and his vest. Then he + laid down the cloth and got a roll of tape out of a drawer. He cut off a + length and made a noose, slipped it over his wrists, bent down and laid + the end of the tape on the floor, stood on it, and pulled taut the noose + until the flesh was ridged. He stooped again and picked up two metal disks + which Starr tossed on the floor; the detective did this easily, although + his writs were noosed. + </p> + <p> + “Not the exact program, perhaps, but near enough,” Starr commented. + </p> + <p> + With equal ease Bixby laid the disks carefully on the flange of the sill + of the vault. Then he took the cloth from the desk, went to the vault, + stooped and thumped his head up against the projecting lever. He went into + the vault and carefully pulled the door shut after him, both hands on the + main bolt. + </p> + <p> + Starr was silent for some moments, exchanging looks with the cashier. + </p> + <p> + “Any comments?” inquired the manager of the show. + </p> + <p> + “None, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll simply say that the chloroform cloth can be put to the nose as + occasion calls for. Bixby isn't doing that. I told Bixby that for the + purposes of demonstration he might count one hundred slow and then figure + that he had used up the oxygen in the vault, and then, if nobody came to + open the door, he could—well, he isn't in there to commit suicide, + but only to create an impression. I ask again—any comments?” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman shook his head. + </p> + <p> + Then the door swung open. Bixby was on his back, his heels in the air. He + had pushed the door with his feet, his shoulders against the inner door. + He rose and came out. Starr cut the tape with the office shears. + </p> + <p> + “That's all!” said the manager. + </p> + <p> + Bixby, not troubling about the torn office jacket, put on his overcoat and + departed. + </p> + <p> + Starr took a lot of time in lighting a cigar and getting a good clinch on + the weed with his teeth. He spoke between those teeth. “It's your move, + Vaniman.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't agreed to sit in at that kind of a game,” stated the young man, + firmly. + </p> + <p> + “But you'll have to admit that I'm playing mighty fair,” insisted the + examiner. “When we talked in Britt's office, you and I agreed that it + wasn't likely that a chap would run risks or commit suicide by shutting + himself up in a bank vault with a time lock on. That's about the only + point we did agree on. I'm showing you that I don't agree with you now, + even on that point. That being the case, you've got to—show <i>me</i>.” + Starr emphasized the last two words by stabbing at his breast with the + cigar. + </p> + <p> + “The idea is, Mr. Starr, you believe that I framed a fake robbery, or + something that looked like a robbery, in order to cover myself.” Frank + stood up and spoke hotly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Starr jumped up and was just as heated in his retort. “Yes!” + </p> + <p> + “But the whole thing—the muddling of the bank's books—the + disks—a man shoving himself into the vault—I'd have to be a + lunatic to perform in that fashion!” + </p> + <p> + “They say there's nothing new under the sun! There is, just the same! Some + crook is thinking up a new scheme every day!” + </p> + <p> + “By the gods, you shall not call me a crook!” + </p> + <p> + “You, yourself, are drawing that inference. But I don't propose to deal in + inferences—” + </p> + <p> + “Starting in the first day you struck this town, hounding me on account of + matters I had no knowledge of, Mr. Starr, was drawing a damnable + inference.” + </p> + <p> + “It has been backed up by some mighty good evidence!” + </p> + <p> + “What is your evidence?” + </p> + <p> + The examiner blew a cloud of smoke, then he fanned the screen away and + squinted at Vaniman. “If you ever hear of me giving away the state's case + in any matter where I'm concerned you'll next hear of me committing + suicide by locking myself into a bank vault. Calm down, Mr. Cashier!” + </p> + <p> + Starr walked close to Vaniman and tapped a stubby forefinger against the + young man's heaving breast. “I'm going to give you a chance, young fellow! + I staged that little play a few moments ago so that you'd see what a fool + house of cards you're living in! I hope you noted carefully that we did + not need to go off the premises for any of our props. I, myself, had noted + in your case that everything that was used came from the premises. Real + robbers usually bring their own stuff. Even that chloroform—” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing about the chloroform, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the vial was here that night, anyway! It's a small thing to waste + time on! I don't profess to be at the bottom of the affair, Vaniman. I'll + admit that it looks as if there's a lot behind this thing—plenty + that is interesting. I've got my full share of human curiosity. I'd like + to be let in on this thing, first hand. Now come across clean! The whole + story! Tell me where the coin is! It's certainly a queer case, and there + must be some twist in it where I can do you a good turn. I've giving you + your chance, I say!” + </p> + <p> + “I have no more idea where that coin is than you have, Mr. Starr. I never + touched it. I have already told the whole truth, so far as I know facts.” + </p> + <p> + “Now listen, Vaniman! This town is already <i>down</i>! If that gold isn't + recovered this bank failure will put the town <i>out</i>! The folks are + ugly. They're talking. Britt says they believe you have hidden the money!” + </p> + <p> + “He does say it!” Vaniman fairly barked the words. “No doubt he has been + telling 'em so!” + </p> + <p> + Starr proceeded remorselessly. “I have heard all the gossip about the + trouble between you and Britt. But that gossip doesn't belong in this + thing right now. Vaniman, you know what a country town is when it turns + against an outsider! If you go before a jury on this case—and that + money isn't in sight—you don't stand the show of a wooden latch on + the back door of hell's kitchen! They'll all come to court with what they + can grub up in the way of brickbats—facts, if they can get 'em, + lies, anyway! Come, come, now! Dig up the coin!” + </p> + <p> + Starr's bland persistency in taking for granted the fact that Vaniman was + hiding the money snapped the overstrained leash of the cashier's + self-restraint. In default of a general audience of the hateful Egyptian + vilifiers, he used Starr as the object of his frenzied vituperation. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Starr listened without reply. + </p> + <p> + As soon as it was apparent to the bank examiner that the cashier did not + intend to take advantage of the chance that had been offered, Starr + marched to the door, opened it, and called. The corridor, it seemed, was + serving as repository for various properties required in the drama which + Mr. Starr had staged that day. The man who entered wore a gold badge—and + a gold badge marks the high sheriff of a county. Starr handed a paper to + the officer. “Serve it,” he commanded, curtly. + </p> + <p> + The sheriff walked to Vaniman and tapped him on the shoulder. “You're + under arrest.” + </p> + <p> + “Charged with what?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm making it fairly easy for you,” explained, Starr, dryly, appearing to + be better acquainted with the nature of the warrant than the sheriff was. + “Burglary, with or without accomplices, might have been charged—seeing + that the coin has been removed—in the nighttime, of course! But + we're simply making the charge embezzlement!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <h3> + ON THE FACE OF IT + </h3> + <p> + Squire Hexter arranged for Vaniman's bail, volunteering for that service, + frankly admitting that he “had seen it coming all along”! But the Squire + was not as ready to serve as Frank's counsel and withstood that young + man's urging for some time. The Squire's solicitude in behalf of the + accused was the reason for this reluctance. “You ought to have the + smartest city lawyer you can hire. I'm only an old country codger, son!” + </p> + <p> + “Squire Hexter, I propose to let the other side have a monopoly of the + tricks. I'm depending on my innocence, and I want your honesty back of + it.” + </p> + <p> + In the hope that the folks of Egypt would recognize innocence when they + saw it, Vaniman daily walked the streets of the village. The pride of + innocence was soon wounded; he learned that his action in “showing himself + under the folks's noses” was considered as bravado. The light of day + showed him so many sour looks that he stayed in the house with Xoa or in + the Squire's office until night. Then he discovered that when he walked + abroad under cover of the darkness he was persistently trailed; it was + evident that the belief that he had hidden the coin of the Egypt Trust + Company was sticking firmly in the noodles of the public. + </p> + <p> + The bank, of course, was now forbidden ground for him. The affairs of that + unhappy institution were being wound up. Considering the fact that the + stockholders had been assessed dollar for dollar of their holdings, and + that, even with this assessment added to the assets, the depositors would + get back only a fraction of their money, Vaniman could scarcely marvel at + the hard looks and the muttered words he met up with on the street. + </p> + <p> + Furthermore, the insurance company took the stand that the bank had not + been burglarized. On the other hand, the security company behind Vaniman's + bond refused to settle, claiming that some kind of a theft had been + committed by outsiders. Only after expensive litigation could Receiver + Waite hope to add insurance and bond money to the assets. The prospects of + getting anything were clouded by the revelations concerning President + Britt's private entrance to the bank vault. But Britt was not accused of + anything except of presuming on too many liberties in running a one-man + bank. Under some circumstances Britt would have been called to an + accounting, without question. But all the venom of suspicion was wholly + engaged with Frank Vaniman, the son of an embezzler. + </p> + <p> + Squire Hexter, armed with authority and information given him by the young + man, had repeatedly waited on Tasper Britt and had asked what attitude the + president proposed to take at the trial. Britt had said that he should + tell the truth, and that was all any witness could be expected to do or to + promise, furthermore, so he told the Squire, he had been enjoined by his + counsel to make no talk to anybody. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman was not sure of his self-restraint during that period of waiting. + There were days when he felt like slapping the faces that glowered when he + looked at them. He avoided any meeting with Britt. That was easy, because + Britt swung with pendulum regularity between house and tavern, tavern and + office. + </p> + <p> + There were days when Vaniman was so thoroughly disheartened that he + pleaded with Vona to make a show of breaking off their friendship. She had + insisted on displaying herself as his champion; obeying her, he walked in + her company to and from the bank with more or less regularity. His spirit + of chivalry made the snubs harder to endure when she was obliged to share + them in his company. + </p> + <p> + But Vona staunchly refused to be a party to such deception. She borrowed + some figures of speech suggested by the work she was doing in the bank and + declared that her loyalty was not insolvent and that she would not make + any composition with her conscience. + </p> + <p> + In her zeal to be of service, one day she even volunteered to interview + Tasper Britt on the subject of what had happened to the Egypt Trust + Company. On that fresh April morning they had walked up the slope of + Burkett Hill, where the sward was showing its first green. He had come to + her house earlier than usual so that she might have time for the little + excursion. They hunted for mayflowers and found enough to make a bit of a + bouquet for her desk in the office. + </p> + <p> + “One just has to feel hopeful in the spring, Frank,” she insisted, + brushing the blossoms gently against his cheek. From the slope they could + look down into the length of Egypt's main street. “Why, there goes Tasper + Britt toward his office and he actually waved his hand to a man—honest! + The spring does soften folks. If he does know something about the inside + of the dreadful puzzle, as you and I have talked so many times, I do + believe I can coax him to tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want you to coax him, dear. Squire Hexter has put the thing up to + Britt, man to man, and I think it better to let it stand that way.” + </p> + <p> + “But if we could get only a little hint to work from!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid you'll find him as stingy with hints as he is with everything + else. He does know—something! I would not put him above arranging + that frame-up that put me where I was found that night,” he declared, with + bitterness. + </p> + <p> + “No, Frank, I tell you again that I don't believe he knew it was going to + happen. When I stood there outside the curtain that night I was looking + straight at him, and at nobody else. I don't remember another face. Tasper + Britt is not actor enough to make up the expression that I saw. It was + simple, absolute, flabbergasted fright!” + </p> + <p> + They started down the slope and walked in silence. + </p> + <p> + “He's considerable of a coward,” Vaniman admitted, after his pondering. + “I'm depending on that fact, more or less. I don't believe he'll dare to + stand up as a witness in court and perjure himself. Squire Hexter has a + line of questions that he and I have prepared very carefully. Britt will + have to testify that I did not have sole opportunity. In considering + crimes, it's proving sole opportunity that sends folks to prison!” + </p> + <p> + She turned away her face and set her teeth upon her lower lip, controlling + her agitation. + </p> + <p> + “I'm trying to face the thing just as bravely as I can, Vona. On the face + of it I'm in bad! When I remember how Britt maneuvered with me, I feel + like running to him and twisting his head off his neck.” + </p> + <p> + When they arrived in front of Britt Block, Vaniman scowled at the stone + effigy in its niche. Then, when his eyes came down from that complacent + countenance, they beheld the face of Tasper Britt framed in his office + window. The Britt in the bank was distinctly in an ugly mood. And there + was a challenge in his demeanor, a sneer in the twist of his features. + </p> + <p> + “Vona, I'm going in there,” Vaniman declared. “There's got to be a + showdown, but it's no job for you!” + </p> + <p> + She offered neither protest nor advice. At that moment the young man was + manifestly in a state of mind which sudden resolution had inflamed with + something like desperation. When he strode in through the front door Britt + disappeared from the window. + </p> + <p> + Vona, following her lover, put her hand on his arm when he arrived in + front of the office door. “Don't you need me with you in there?” She could + not hide her apprehensiveness. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to hold myself in, dear! Don't be worried. But it's best for me + to see him alone.” + </p> + <p> + He waited until she had gone into the bank office. + </p> + <p> + He did not bother to knock on Britt's door. When he twisted the handle he + found that the door was locked. He called, but Britt did not reply. He put + his mouth close to the door. “Mr. Britt, I have some business to talk over + with you. Please let me in!” + </p> + <p> + He waited. The man inside did not move or speak. “I'm coming in there, + Britt, even if I have to kick this door down.” + </p> + <p> + But the threat did not produce any results. Vaniman stepped back and drove + his foot against the panel, but not with enough force to break the lock. + His kick was in the way of admonition. After a few moments Britt opened + the door; he had an iron poker in his hand. Vaniman marched in. “You don't + need any weapon, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I do, judging from the way you came rushing into this building. + Vaniman, I protest. I have said my say to your attorney. I have nothing + more to add.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not here to try the case, Mr. Britt. I'll confess that I did not + intend to waste my breath in talking with you. But I could not resist the + feeling that came over me a few moments ago.” He was standing just inside + the door. He closed it. “You informed Squire Hexter that you intend to + tell the truth at the trial. That's all right! I hope so. I have no + criticism to offer on that point. But there's a matter of man's business + between us two, and it belongs here rather than in a courtroom. Do you + intend to tell the truth about how you framed me?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand what you mean,” returned Britt, stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “I'll put it so that you can't help understanding, sir. You rigged a plan + to have me sleep in the bank nights.” + </p> + <p> + “That was your own suggestion. You asked to be allowed to sleep here.” + </p> + <p> + “You intend to say that in your testimony, do you?” + </p> + <p> + Britt took a firm hold on the poker. “I most certainly do.” + </p> + <p> + “You cooked up an excuse to send me off on a wild-goose chase in the + night.” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing about your going anywhere in the night—except that + Files's hostler is saying that you hired a hitch for some purpose.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman knew that appeal and protest would be futile—realizing the + full extent of Britt's effrontery. However, in his amazement he began to + rail at the president. + </p> + <p> + Britt broke in on the anathema. “I was not nigh the bank that night. I was + asleep in my own house. You'd better not try any such ridiculous story in + court—it will spoil any defense Hexter may manage to put up for you. + Vaniman, it's plain enough why you hired that hitch! Why don't you tell + where you hauled that money?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going to do to you what I ought to do, Britt. I'm into the hole + deep enough as it is! But let me ask you if any jury is going to believe + that I was lunatic enough to hire a livery hitch, if I was hauling away + loot?” + </p> + <p> + “It's my idea, Vaniman, that you were trying to work a hold-up game on the + bank, knowing that you were done here,” stated Britt, coolly. “But + something went wrong before you had a chance to offer a compromise. + Naturally, you thought we'd do 'most anything to keep our little bank from + failing.” + </p> + <p> + The young man beat his fist upon his breast. “Have you the damnation + cheek, Britt, to use me, the victim, to rehearse your lies on?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm giving you a little glimpse of the evidence. If the hint is of any + use to you, you're welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Britt, have you turned into a demon?” Vaniman demanded. He stared at the + usurer with honest incredulity. + </p> + <p> + “I've had enough setbacks, in recent days, to craze 'most any man, I'll + admit. But I'm keeping along in my usual course, doing the right thing as + I see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Britt, I have never done you an injury. Are you going to ruin me because + a good girl loves me?” + </p> + <p> + “I have too much respect for that young lady to allow her name to be + dragged into a mess of this sort,” stated the amazing Britt. “And I think + that she'll wake up after she has come to a realizing sense of what a + narrow escape she has had.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman stood there, his hands closing and unclosing, his palms itching to + feel the contact of Britt's cheeks. There was venom in Britt's eyes. This + outrageous baiting was satisfying the older man's rancor—the ugly + grudge that clawed and tore his soul when he sat alone in his chamber and + gazed on the girl's pictured beauty. Every night, after he puffed out his + light, he muttered the same speech—it had become the talisman of his + ponderings. “Whilst I'm staying alone here he'll be alone in a cell in + state prison.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman understood. + </p> + <p> + He turned on his heel and walked out of Britt's office. + </p> + <p> + In the street the young man met Prophet Elias, who was adventuring abroad + under his big umbrella. Vaniman was in a mood to poke ruthless facts + against his aches. “Prophet, you ought to know whether any of the folks in + this town believe that I'm innocent. Are there any?” + </p> + <p> + Elias, ever since he had flung to the cashier the sage advice about + keeping his eye peeled, had used texts rarely in his infrequent talks with + Vaniman. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, there are a few,” he said, with matter-of-fact indifference. “But + they didn't lose money by the bank failure.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you think about me?” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet cocked his eyebrow. “'Can a man take fire into his bosom, and + his clothing not be burned?' Britt, the bank, the girl! Three hot torches, + young sir! Very hot torches!” He walked on. Then he turned and came back + and patted Vaniman's arm. “You didn't keep your eye peeled! The young are + thoughtless. But four good old eyes will be serving you while you're—<i>away</i>! + Mine and Brother Usial's.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you!” said the young man, and he went on his way. He was reflecting + on that text the Prophet had enunciated. + </p> + <p> + Might it not apply as well to Tasper Britt? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <h3> + A PERSISTENT BELIEF + </h3> + <p> + Vaniman was indicted; he was tried; he was convicted; he was sentenced to + serve seven years in the state prison. He refused to allow Squire Hexter + to appeal the case. He had no taste for further struggle against the + circumstantial evidence that was reinforced by perjury. His consciousness + of protesting innocence was subjugated by the morose determination to + accept the unjust punishment. + </p> + <p> + The general opinion was that he was a very refractory young man because he + would not disclose the hiding place of the gold. + </p> + <p> + Even the warden of the prison had some remarks to make on that subject. + The chaplain urged Vaniman to clear his conscience and do what he could to + aid the distressed inhabitants of a bankrupt town. This conspiracy of + persistent belief in his guilt put a raw edge on his mental suffering. + </p> + <p> + His only source of solace was the weekly letter from Vona. Her fortitude + seemed to be unaffected; her loyalty heartened him. And after a time hope + intervened and comforted him; although Vaniman had only a few friends on + the job for him in Egypt, he reflected that Tasper Britt had plenty of + enemies who would operate constantly and for the indirect benefit of + Britt's especial victim. The young man felt that accident might disclose + the truth at any time. But every little while he went through a period of + acute torture; he had a wild desire to break out of his prison, to be on + the ground in Egypt, to go at the job of unmasking Britt as only a man + vitally interested in the task could go at it! + </p> + <p> + Sometimes his frenzy reached such a height that it resembled the + affliction that pathologists call claustrophobia. He stamped to and fro in + his cell, after the bolts had been driven for the night; he lamented and + he cursed, muffling his tones. And a man named Bartley Wagg, having taken + it upon himself to keep close tabs on Vaniman's state of mind, noted the + prisoner's rebellious restlessness with deepening interest and coupled a + lot of steady pondering with his furtive espionage. + </p> + <p> + Wagg was a prison guard. + </p> + <p> + After Vaniman was committed, Wagg complained of rheumatism and asked the + warden to transfer him from the wall where he had been doing sentry-go + with a rifle and give him an inside job as night warder. And the warden + humored Wagg, who was a trusted veteran. + </p> + <p> + Wagg made regular trips along the cell tiers during the night. He padded + as noiselessly as a cat, for he had soles of felt on his shoes. Many + times, keeping vigil when his emotions would not allow him to sleep, + Vaniman saw Wagg halt and peer through the bars of the cell. The corridor + light showed his face. But Wagg did not accost the prisoner. The guard + acted like a man who, whatever might be his particular interest in + Vaniman, proposed to take plenty of time in getting acquainted. + </p> + <p> + Once, after midnight, Wagg found the prisoner pacing; Vaniman dared to + relieve his feelings by groans, for the chorus of snores served as a + sound-screen. + </p> + <p> + “Sick?” inquired the guard, whispering. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “If you ever are, don't be afraid to call on me when I pass. I've got a + good heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you!” + </p> + <p> + “I've really got too good a heart to be tied up to a prison job,” + volunteered Wagg. “I hate to see sorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorrow is about all you have a chance to see in this place.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” admitted the guard, sliding away. + </p> + <p> + The warden had given Vaniman a bookkeeper's job. But the prison office was + a gloomy place and the windows were hatefully barred Through the bars he + could see convict toilers wheeling barrows of dirt. They were filling up a + lime-quarry pit within the walls. In the old days convicts had quarried + lime rocks. But in the newer days of shops the quarry was abandoned and + had been gradually filled with stagnant water. When the prison + commissioners decided that the pool was a menace to health, a crew was set + at work filling the pit. Vaniman envied the men who could work in the + sunshine. He was everlastingly behind bars; the office was not much better + than his cell. The bars shut him away from opportunity to make a man's + fight for himself. Every time he looked at a window he was reminded of his + helplessness. It seemed to him that if he could get out into the sunshine + and toil till his muscles ached he would be able to endure better the + night of confinement in the cell. + </p> + <p> + He blurted out that much of confession to Wagg when the guard discovered + him pacing in the narrow space a few nights later. + </p> + <p> + “I sympathize!” whispered Wagg. “I know all about your case!” Then Wagg + passed on. + </p> + <p> + The next night he halted long enough to say that, knowing all about the + case from what the newspapers printed, he realized just why Vaniman found + it so tough to be locked up. + </p> + <p> + Then Wagg refrained from saying anything for several nights. The prisoner + was quite sure that the guard had something on his mind outside of a mere + notion of being polite; in the case of Wagg, so hardened a veteran, + politeness to a prisoner would have been heresy. Wondering just what Wagg + was driving at, Vaniman found the guard's leisurely methods tantalizing in + the extreme. One night the prisoner ventured to take the initiative; he + stuck out his hand to signal the guard. + </p> + <p> + Wagg, it was manifest, was not so much a master of facial control that he + could suppress all signs of satisfaction. He looked pleased—like a + man who had employed tactics that were working according to plans and + hopes. + </p> + <p> + “Sick?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—heart and soul! Body, too! Isn't there any way of my getting a + job wheeling that dirt?” + </p> + <p> + Wagg made his noiseless getaway. He departed suddenly, without a word. + Until the next night Vaniman was left to wonder to what extent he had + offended the official. + </p> + <p> + But Wagg showed no signs of unfriendliness when he halted, after midnight, + at the cell door. “Feel any better?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon I understand. Of course I understand! Most of 'em that's in here + haven't anything special to look forward to when they get out. Your case + is different. Everything to look forward to! No wonder you walk the cell.” + </p> + <p> + On he slid, silently. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman had read the <i>Arabian Nights</i> tales, as they were divided in + the literal translation. He reflected whimsically on the methods of the + story-teller who, “having said her permitted say,” was wont to stop right + in the middle of a sentence for the sake of piquing interest in what was + to follow. + </p> + <p> + The next night the prisoner's interest was heightened into real amazement. + Wagg stuck his hand through the bars and waggled it invitingly. + </p> + <p> + “Take it!” he urged, sibilantly. + </p> + <p> + For a dizzy instant Vaniman was moved by the expansive hope that his + plight had appealed to this man; he hastened to take what Wagg offered. It + was a small cube of something. + </p> + <p> + “Eat it!” said the guard. + </p> + <p> + Holding it close to his face, to make an inspection in the dim light, the + young man caught the scent of the cube. It was a piece of soap. He made + sure by putting it to his nose. + </p> + <p> + “Just a little at a time—what you can stomach,” Wagg urged. He + passed on. + </p> + <p> + But Vaniman did not obey; he was unable to comprehend what this sort of + fodder signified; he broke the cube into bits, thinking that a saw might + be hidden. It was only soap—common soap. He put the bits away in the + portfolio he was allow to have in his cell. + </p> + <p> + Wagg was a bit testy the next night when Vaniman confessed that he had not + eaten any of the soap. + </p> + <p> + “You've got to show absolute confidence in me—do what I tell you to + do,” insisted the guard. + </p> + <p> + “I can't eat that soap. It will make me sick!” + </p> + <p> + “You've said it! But eat that soap—a little at a time—and see + what the prison doctor says. It isn't easy to fool prison doctors—but + I've been on this job long enough to know how.” + </p> + <p> + That was Wagg's longest speech to date. His earnestness impressed the + young man. He managed to eat a bit of the soap after the guard had + departed. He ate more in the morning before his release from the cell. He + put some crumbs of the soap in his pockets and choked down the hateful + substance when he found an opportunity during the day. + </p> + <p> + That night Wagg had a few more words to say on the subject. “One of the + biggest birds they ever caged at Atlanta fooled the doctors and got his + pardon so that he could die outside the pen. Did he die? Bah-bah! Soap! + Just soap!” + </p> + <p> + “So you think the pardon plan can be worked in my case, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon your eyes!” scoffed Wagg. “That isn't the idea at all!” + </p> + <p> + He fed the soap to the prisoner for many nights, but he did not give any + information. However, Wagg had the air of a man who knew well what he was + about, and Vaniman was desperate enough to continue the horrible diet, + having found that Mr. Wagg was a very touchy person when his policies were + doubted or his good faith questioned. + </p> + <p> + Then, one day the prison doctor, who had been observing Vaniman for some + time, took the bookkeeper into his office and examined him thoroughly; he + gravely informed the warden that the young man had symptoms of incipient + kidney trouble and ought to be less closely confined. + </p> + <p> + When Vaniman found himself out in the sunshine, intrusted with the + sinecure of checking up barrow-loads of dirt which convicts wheeled past + him where he sat in an armchair provided by the warden from his office, + the prisoner perceived that the Wagg policies were effective in getting + results. + </p> + <p> + Having added respect for Mr. Wagg's ability in general, Vaniman was not + surprised to find the guard following the favored prisoner into the new + field of operations. The young man was quite sure that the guard had not + opened up on his principal plan. + </p> + <p> + One morning Wagg came with a stool and a rifle and located himself close + beside the armchair; he sat on the stool and rested the rifle across his + knees and smoked a corncob pipe placidly. And there was plenty of + opportunity for talk, though Wagg obtrusively kept his face turned from + Vaniman's and talked through the corner of his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Now you see, I hope! In a prison you've got to step light and go the + other way around to get to a thing. I'm favored here, and I'm supposed to + be nursing rheumatism.” He leaned forward to knock out his pipe dottle and + found an opportunity to give Vaniman a wink. “I arranged to come off the + wall—knowing all about your case. I could ask to come out here, + having found that night work didn't help me! Sunshine is good. But you + couldn't ask for sunshine. When a prisoner asks for a thing, they go on + the plan of doing exactly opposite to what he seems to want. From now on, + having seen how I can operate, I expect you to do just what I tell you to + do.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman looked at the rifle. Wagg waved it, commanding a convict to hurry + past. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir! You've got to do just as I say!” insisted the guard when the + convict had gone out of earshot. + </p> + <p> + “How can I help myself?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mean that I'm going to team you around with this rifle! I + want you to co-operate.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think I can co-operate better if you give me a line on what all + this means?” pleaded the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “Sure and slow is my policy. I'm not just certain that I have you sized up + right, as yet. I'm of a suspicious nature. But I'm finding this sunshine + softening.” Mr. Wagg rambled on, squinting up at the sky. “Seven years is + a long while to wait for a good time to come. Figuring that your time will + be paid for at the rate of about ten thousand dollars a year, while you're + in here, helps to smooth the feelings somewhat, of course. But now that + you're in here you're counting days instead of years—and every day + seems a year when you're looking forward. The newspapers said it was about + seventy-five thousand dollars in good, solid gold.” + </p> + <p> + Wagg bored Vaniman with a side glance that was prolonged until a toiling + convict had passed to a safe distance. The young man was eyeing the guard + with a demeanor which indicated that the tractable spirit commended by Mr. + Wagg was no longer under good control. However, Vaniman did manage to + control his tongue. + </p> + <p> + After the silence had continued for some time, the guard slipped down from + the stool and marched to and fro with his rifle in the hook of his arm, + affording a fine display of attention to duty. + </p> + <p> + After he had returned to his stool, Wagg gave the ex-cashier plenty of + time to take up the topic. “Considering my position in this place, I + reckon I've said about enough,” suggested the guard. + </p> + <p> + “I think you have said enough!” returned Vaniman, grimly. + </p> + <p> + “What have you to say?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't take that money from the Egypt Trust Company. I don't know where + it is. I never knew where it went. And I'm getting infernally sick of + having it everlastingly thrown up at me.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I had you sized up better—but I see I was wrong,” + admitted Wagg. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you're wrong! You and the chaplain and the warden and the jury! + I didn't take that money!” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean I was wrong on that point,” proceeded Wagg, remorselessly. + “But I had watched you bang around your cell and I concluded that you was + ready to make about a fifty-fifty split of the swag with the chap who + could get you out of here. If you're still stuffy, you'll have to stay + that way—and stay in here, too!” + </p> + <p> + He took another promenade, pursuing his regular policy of starting the + fire and letting the kettle come aboil on its own hook. + </p> + <p> + “What good would it do me to escape from this prison—to be hounded + and hunted from one end of the world to the other?” Vaniman demanded, when + Wagg had returned to the stool. “I do want to get out. But I want to get + out right! I have a job to do for myself when I'm out of here!” Mr. Wagg + nodded understandingly. “And that job is right in the same town where I + have been living.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly!” agreed the guard. “And speaking of a job, you don't think for + one moment, do you, that I'd be earning a fifty-fifty split by boosting + you over that wall or smuggling you out of the gate to shift for yourself? + Small wonder that you got hot, thinking I meant it that way. My plan will + put you out right! My plan is a prime plan that can be worked only once. + Therefore, it's worth money.” + </p> + <p> + “Damn it, I haven't the money!” Vaniman, exasperated by this pertinacity, + was not able to control his feelings or his language. + </p> + <p> + “It's too bad you are still at the point where you <i>think</i> you + haven't got it,” returned Mr. Wagg. “I'm a terrible good waiter. Reckon I + have showed that kind of a disposition already. When you get to the other + and sensible point where you want to be out of here, and out right, with + nobody chasing and hectoring you, you and I will do business on the + fifty-fifty basis. It may seem high,” he pursued. “But all prices are high + in these times. They're so blamed high that I'm in debt, simply trying to + give my family a decent living. The state won't raise my wages. The state + practically says, 'You'll have to do the best you can!' The state owes me + a living. So I'll grab on to the assets that the state has hove into my + reach, and will speculate as best I know now.” + </p> + <p> + “You think I'm your asset, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “You're not worth a cent to me or yourself until I operate. And when + you're ready to have me operate—fifty-fifty—give me the high + sign. And something will be done what was never done before!” + </p> + <p> + Then Wagg carried his stool to the lee of a shop wall, seeking shade—too + far away for further talk. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <h3> + AND PHARAOH'S HEART WAS HARDENED + </h3> + <p> + By the wiles of Wagg and a soap diet Frank Vaniman had been able to secure + his modest slice of God's sunlight. + </p> + <p> + There was aplenty of that sunshine in Egypt. It flooded the bare hills and + the barren valleys; there were not trees enough to trig the sunlight's + flood with effective barriers of shade. + </p> + <p> + Tasper Britt walked out into it from the door of Files's tavern. + </p> + <p> + He had just been talking to the landlord about the tavern diet. His + language was vitriolic. Even Vaniman could not have used more bitter words + to express his detestation for soap as a comestible. + </p> + <p> + Britt's heat in the matter, the manner in which he had plunged into the + diatribe all of a sudden, astonished Mr. Files tremendously. Britt seemed + to be acting out a part, he was so violent. Usually, Britt did not waste + any of the heat in his cold nature unless he had a good reason for the + expenditure. There seemed to be something else than mere dyspepsia + concerned, so Files thought. He followed Mr. Britt and called to him from + the door. Britt had stopped to light his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “I've had my say. I'm all done here. Let that end it,” declared the + departing guest. + </p> + <p> + There were listeners, the usual after-dinner loafers of the tavern's + purlieus. Mr. Britt did not seem to mind them. He even looked about, as if + to make sure of their numbers. + </p> + <p> + “All you needed to do was to complain in a genteel way, and I would have + been just as genteel in rectifying,” pleaded Files. + </p> + <p> + “The people of this town are still saying that I'm a hard man. If that's + so, I'm waking up to the reason for it—your grub has petrified me. + My real friends have noticed it.” Here was more of Britt's unwonted + garrulity about his private concerns. “Some of those friends have taken + pity on me. I have been invited to board with the Harnden family.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Britt did not look around to note the effect of that piece of news. He + gazed complacently up into the sunshine. + </p> + <p> + He made quite a figure—for Egypt—as he stood there. Mr. Britt + had “togged out.” His toupee, when he first flashed it, had signified + much. But the manner in which he had garbed himself for summer was little + less than hardihood, considering the sort of a community in which he + lived. He was “a native.” The style of his attire declared that he was + completely indifferent to any comments by his townsmen—and such a + trait exposed in a New England village revealed more fully than his + usurious habits the real callousness of the Britt nature. There was not a + man in sight who did not have patches either fore or aft, or both! Mr. + Britt wore a light, checked suit with a fitted waist, garishly yellow + shoes, a puff tie of light blue, and a sailor straw with a sash band. He + was a peacock in a yard full of brown Leghorns. But nobody laughed at Mr. + Britt. Nobody in Egypt felt like laughing at anything, any more. They were + accepting Britt, in his gorgeous plumage, as merely another strange item + in the list of the signs and wonders that marked the latter days in Egypt. + </p> + <p> + More tawdry than ever appeared Prophet Elias's robe in that sunshine, + though his umbrella did seem to comport better with the season. He stood + in front of Usial's home. For a long time he had been keeping his tongue + off the magnate of the town. For some weeks he had been away somewhere. To + those who indulgently asked where he had been he replied tartly that he + had volunteered as a scapegoat for the woes and sins of Egypt, had gone in + search of a wilderness, and had come back because all other wildernesses + were only second-rate affairs compared with the town from which he had + started. + </p> + <p> + The Prophet seemed to feel that the appearance of Mr. Britt required + comment. He raised his voice and made that comment: + </p> + <p> + “'And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, + how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin; and yet I say unto you + that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.'” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet bestowed a momentary benefit on gloomy Egypt—the + listeners did manage to crease their countenances with grins; Britt + surveyed those grins before he turned his attention to Elias. But all he + did turn was his attention—silent, bodeful, malicious scrutiny. The + onlookers were considerably surprised by Britt's silence; they wondered + what controlled his tongue; but they were not in doubt on one point—every + man of them knew that when Tasper Britt wore that expression it meant that + he had settled upon the method of his revenge in the case of one who had + offended him. + </p> + <p> + After a few moments Britt turned from his stare at the Prophet and dropped + what was nigh to being a bombshell; it was more effective because it had + nothing to do with the matter in hand. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, fellow townsmen! We all know that we ought to put our shoulders + to the wheel and do something for poor Egypt. I propose to start off.” He + pointed to the old Britt mansion. “I'm going to tear down my house.” + </p> + <p> + The men of Egypt goggled at him. + </p> + <p> + “Aye! And start off with it?” queried the Prophet. “Good riddance!” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Britt was not troubling himself about the mouthings of Elias. + </p> + <p> + “I shall put a crew on it to-morrow. A city contractor will arrive here + this afternoon with equipment and men. But he can also use all the local + men who want to work. All who will pitch in can hire with him at the + regular scale of wages. As soon as the site is cleared I shall start work + on a new house. The plans are drawn. I have them here.” + </p> + <p> + He snapped the rubber bands off a roll which he carried under his arm. He + exhibited a watercolor facade elevation, stretching his arms wide and + holding the paper in front of his face. The men came crowding around. They + saw the drawing of a pretentious structure with towers and porticoes. + Britt, holding the architect's broad sheet so that his features were + hidden, explained the details of his project in regard to rooms and + grounds. There was a hateful expression on the hidden face; it was the + face of a man who hoped he was stirring jealous envy in those whom he + wished to punish. + </p> + <p> + “It will be a mansion to the queen's taste, when you get it done,” + observed one man; he took advantage of the fact that Britt could not see + him and winked at a neighbor. But if the man hoped to get a rise out of + the builder in regard to a possible queen, he was disappointed. + </p> + <p> + Another citizen was more venturesome: “I'm taking it for granted that you + don't intend to keep old-bach hall in a house like that, Tasper!” + </p> + <p> + Britt took down the shield. He displayed a countenance of bland + satisfaction. “I don't think I'll be allowed to do it,” he retorted, + answering jest with jest. “You know what women are when they see a + good-looking house needing a mistress.” He rolled the paper up carefully. + “And now, talking of something sensible, I hope you're going to turn out + in good numbers when that contractor begins to hire. And pass the word!” + </p> + <p> + Nobody showed much enthusiasm. One man with a querulous mouth suggested: + “It will seem like helping waste money, tearing down a stand of buildings + that ain't in any ways due to be scrapped; I ain't sure but what it will + seem like a worse waste of money, building a palace in a town like this. + Don't you expect to be taxed like Sancho?” + </p> + <p> + “Until we get some kind of legislation or court action to make our town + acts legal, the taxation question isn't worrying me much,” said Britt, + grimly. “I'll take my chances along with the rest of you on getting an act + allowing us to compound with creditors.” + </p> + <p> + “Probably can be arranged,” said a man with the malice against the usurer + that prevailed in the oppressed town. “We're sending a good man to the + next legislature.” + </p> + <p> + But Britt, in that new mood of his, was refusing to be baited. He began to + look about. “Where is that person who calls himself a Prophet?” + </p> + <p> + The others joined with Britt in making a survey of the landscape. Nobody + had been paying any attention to Elias, whose voice had been stilled since + the one-sided affair with Britt. + </p> + <p> + “There he is,” announced a man. + </p> + <p> + The Prophet was patrolling. He was marching to and fro in front of Britt's + house. Then he walked in through a gap in Britt's fence and went to the + house and peered in at one of the windows. He had lowered and folded his + big umbrella and carried it under his arm. + </p> + <p> + “I call on all of you to note what he did then,” called Britt. “He has + been doing that lately.” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet returned to the road. Then he seemed to be attacked by another + idea. He went back through the gap in the fence and peered in at another + window. + </p> + <p> + “I repeat, he has been doing that. I was getting ready to take proper + measures to handle him. Something better than talking back to a lunatic! + But I didn't reckon I'd have such good luck as this! Twelve men right here + for my witnesses! Look hard at him, men!” + </p> + <p> + They did look, though they did not comprehend what Britt's excited + insistence signified. He pulled out a notebook and pencil and handed it to + the nearest man. “Mark down two! Mark it down—and all of you take + due notice.” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet returned to the highway and came slowly pacing along toward + the group. + </p> + <p> + “All of you saw, did you? All of you ready to bear witness?” demanded the + magnate. + </p> + <p> + He stepped out in front of Elias when the latter came near. Britt shook + the roll of drawings under the Prophet's nose. “Listen here, my man! I + didn't bother to talk to you a few minutes ago. Now I'm talking. You've + been a vagabond in this town for a long time. The only thing that has + protected you from the law in such cases made and provided has been the + roof of a man who ought to be a tramp along with you. Right now, before + the eyes of a dozen citizens, you have committed two separate and distinct + breaches of the law. You have trespassed on my property. In the past I + have sent men to jail for sixty days for one offense of that sort. On my + complaint, backed by these witnesses, you'll see sixty days on one case—and + I'll have you re-arrested on the other count the moment you step foot out + of the jail.” He paused. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said the Prophet, mildly inquiring. + </p> + <p> + “I'm a fair man, and I call the attention of these witnesses to what I say + now. I'll give you a chance. Walk out of this town and stay out, and I'll + not prosecute.” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Do you refuse to go?” + </p> + <p> + For a man who dealt so exclusively in texts, the Prophet was rather + vulgarly blunt when he replied, “You bet!” + </p> + <p> + Britt received that manner of retort with the air of a man who had been + tunked between the eyes. It was some moments before he could go on. “Don't + you realize what the judge will say when I show up your willfulness?” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet was even more amazing in his new manners. He stuck out his + tongue, put his thumb to his nose, and wriggled his fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be condemned!” Britt gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Sure! When all the evidence is in about you!” + </p> + <p> + The magnate of Egypt lowered the roll that he had brandished so + constantly. After a few moments of silent challenge with the eyes, he + turned and walked away. + </p> + <p> + But he heard the mumble of men's laughter behind him, and his anger and + the determination not to be put down in this style in his own town helped + him to get back some of his self-possession. He whirled on his heels and + strode to the enigma of Egypt. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you, anyway?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + But Prophet Elias was his usual self once more. He had assumed that air + which a practical man like Britt found an aggravating, teasing pose or a + kind of lunacy with which common sense could not cope. Elias slowly spread + his umbrella. He stood beneath it and declaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'And Moses and Aaron did all these wonders before Pharaoh; and the Lord + hardened Pharaoh's heart, so that he would not let the children of Israel + go out of his land.'” + </p> + <p> + “You let me tell you something! There's one man going out of this land + mighty sudden—and he's going to the county jail in charge of a + constable.” + </p> + <p> + When Britt started away that time he kept on going. He went to the office + of Trial-Justice Bowman and swore out a warrant. A constable served it and + the Prophet was haled before the justice. On the evidence presented, + Bowman sentenced a person known as “the Prophet Elias” to serve sixty days + in the county jail. Within an hour after the Prophet's defiance he was on + his way with the constable in a side-bar buggy. + </p> + <p> + The Prophet had not opened his mouth to give out even one text. He had not + opened his mouth, either, to give his name; the writ designated him merely + by his sobriquet. But there was a queer little wrinkle at each corner of + that closed mouth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <h3> + NO STRAW FOR THE BRICKS + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Harnden banged his pulpy fist on the board at which so he had + declared, Tasper Britt was to sit. + </p> + <p> + “I have ruled a happy home by love in the past. Don't force me to rule it + otherwise now.” + </p> + <p> + He was obliged to lower his eyes to a level at last because his neck + ached. He was forced to turn those eyes in his daughter's direction, for + her gaze was of that compelling quality which causes the object of regard + to return the scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, I'm not lowering myself by taking in boarders,” the father + insisted. “I have become tied up in a business way with my friend Britt. + We need to be in conference right along. They're going to tear down his + house. Shall I let it be said that I left a friend ahungered and without a + roof? Shall—” + </p> + <p> + “Father, I'm no longer patient enough to listen to any more of that + nonsense,” said Vona. + </p> + <p> + “But it isn't nonsense,” put in the mother. “Poor Tasper is left without a + home. Files's vittles have nigh killed him. He was always used to home + cooking. He—” + </p> + <p> + “Please! Please!” protested the girl, impatiently. “We're three grown-ups. + Let's be honest with one another. I, at least, have been honest—ever + since I declared myself under this roof last winter.” + </p> + <p> + “If you're bound to put your father's and your mother's close friendship + for a man strictly on the business basis, we'll have it that way,” agreed + Mr. Harnden, trying to straightedge his little bunghole of a mouth and + failing. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, father! We shall get along better. I'm not in any position to + dictate in our home—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should say not!” exploded the master. + </p> + <p> + “But I have worked and turned in my money to help support it, and I have + my personal rights here.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden had more success in arranging the expression he assumed then; + he looked hurt; he had been very successful with that expression in the + past. “Any farseeing man has his ups and downs, Vona. Is it kind to twit + your father—” + </p> + <p> + She protested more impatiently still. “I am simply presenting the business + side of the matter. I say, I have earned some rights to be comfortable in + my own home. On the plea of friendship for a man whom I detest, you are + proposing to destroy that comfort. Is your friendship for that man greater + than your love for your daughter?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden rose and stuck out his frontal convexity and wagged a + forefinger. “Now you're getting off the question of business—just as + you accused me of getting off it!” He slapped his breast. “I'm a business + man these days. I'm no longer a man with visions, needing a daughter's + sacrifices, like you have twitted me of being. Keep still! I'm talking!” + he squealed. He was displaying more of the new and cocky demeanor that had + been his for some time. He had been especially set up for a few days prior + to his announcement that Tasper Britt was coming into the Harnden home as + lodger and guest at table. “Business it is! Britt will pay board enough, + seeing that he has come to my—<i>my</i> terms, so that your mother + can keep a hired girl for the first time in her life. Are you so selfish + as to want to have your mother—my wife—go on potwalloping in + the kitchen for the rest of her days? If that's so, you'll find that my + pride will override your selfishness.” + </p> + <p> + “Father, I will stay at home and do all the work, if you'll keep our home + from being desecrated by that man!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden reared his crest and advanced one foot. “I have raised my + daughter to be a lady and will keep her so! I'm now in a position to do it + without any of her help.” + </p> + <p> + Vona stood up then. But not to fling angry retort at her father! She knew + that she was able to conquer the raging self that was urging her to tell + both of them what she thought of their idiotic persistency in backing the + attentions of Britt. Being victor over herself in that conflict with self + where so many fail, she felt courage to battle in another quarter. Since + Frank had been penned up where he could not fight, she had felt that she + was the champion for their mutual interests, and she was resolved to keep + on valiantly. “Father, you know how I stand in the matter of Frank + Vaniman.” + </p> + <p> + “I have broken your engagement with that jailbird.” + </p> + <p> + “Vona, I have told you repeatedly that I will never consent to your + marrying that man,” shrilled Mrs. Harnden. “What does the Bible say about + obeying your parents?” + </p> + <p> + The girl was tensely suppressing her emotions. “The outsiders merely know + that I am engaged to marry him. But both of you know that I am married to + him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden sat down in order to express his emotions; Mrs. Harnden stood + up. Their duet of disavowal of any such knowledge was keyed high. + </p> + <p> + “You heard me when I married him—in your presence—under this + roof. The legal formality can wait. But I am married. In my heart I am + married. It is enough for me until he comes back to me. And what God hath + joined together let not man put asunder!” She said it reverently, with all + her soul in her tones, all her woman's resolution of loyalty in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + They tried to say something, but in the face of her demeanor of firmness + their opposition was futile, and they probably realized it, for they + became silent and allowed her to speak on. + </p> + <p> + “If you do not choose to consider my feelings in the matter, I'll not + complain. You are master and mistress of the home. I tell you now, as I + have told you before, that if Tasper Britt had come out with the whole + truth Frank would not be in prison. You must not expect that I will sit at + table with a man who has so persecuted my—husband!” She hesitated a + moment before she spoke the last word. She caressed it with loving + inflection. A moment later her cheeks were burning hotly. She went out + into the hall, got her sunshade, and left the house. + </p> + <p> + She still had her work at the bank; the progress of liquidation was slow. + Tasper Britt, from his office window, saw her coming. She wore no hat. The + parasol framed the face that was still glowing after her battle for the + sanctity of her love. + </p> + <p> + “It's worth it!” he muttered; but not even to himself did Britt mention + what the price was. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden's comment, delayed for some minutes, was that the girl was + putting it almighty strong. + </p> + <p> + “It's her loyalty. She can't help it. She takes it from me,” declared the + mother, pouring another cup of tea for her shaken nerves. + </p> + <p> + “She does, hey?” Mr. Harnden's voice indicated that he was not commending + the quality mentioned. + </p> + <p> + His wife was decidedly tart in her retort that he ought to be thankful for + the loyalty that enabled her to put up with all the privations of the + past. + </p> + <p> + “Well, let the past be the past. I've got my feet placed now—and + that hired girl is coming to-morrow.” The idea of his new prosperity + revived Mr. Harnden's natural optimism. “That jailbird hasn't been away + from her long enough for her to be weaned from her foolishness about him. + He's safe away for seven years, and a whole lot can happen in that time—even + to that loyalty that women seem to set such store by. My friend Britt + comes here—into our family! That's understood. If Vona wants to eat + off'n the mantelshelf in her room, well and good till she's tamed. And now—to + work—to work!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden was truly very much up-and-coming those days. He rose and + shook out first one leg and then the other, with the manner of a + scratching rooster. The movements settled the legs of his trousers. He had + a new suit of his own. It resembled Tasper Britt's. That new suit and the + yellow gloves and the billycock hat excited some interest in Egypt; the + new hitch that Harnden possessed excited much more interest. He was + driving a “trappy” bay nag, and his new road wagon had rubber tires. Nor + was Mr. Harnden doing any more inventing, so he declared to the public. + The public, however, did declare behind his back that he must have + invented something in the way of a system to be able to wear those clothes + and drive that hitch. To be sure, there were some who insisted that the + matter of Vona was still potent with Britt and that Britt's money was + behind Harnden. But there were more who were certain that it was not the + style of Britt to invest in any such remote possibility as a girl who + openly declared that she proposed to wait seven years for the man of her + choice. + </p> + <p> + Harnden had a new business; he was selling nursery stock. But that + business did not account for his prosperity. He was taking town orders for + his goods—taking orders on the town treasury, orders that had long + been creased in wallets or had grown yellow in bureau drawers or had been + dickered about at a few cents on the dollar and accepted when a debtor had + nothing else with which to pay. Mr. Harnden said he was ready to take town + orders at any time. He optimistically declared that his faith in the old + town was firmly fixed. That optimism was entirely in accord with Mr. + Harnden's past professions; and nobody wondered much, because he was so + foolish. But he was not wholly a fool in that matter. He had only about a + fifty-per-cent faith in Egypt—he insisted on that much discount when + he took in a town order. Even at that rate, Ossian Orne did insist that + Harnden was a complete fool. Orne would not take town orders for his + nursery stock. But Orne's nose was out of joint, it was generally agreed. + Harnden's lithographs showed apples twice as big as Orne's book did; the + pears fairly oozed sweetness from their plump, pictured mellowness; there + were peaches that provoked folks to make funny noises at the corners of + their mouths when the optimistic Harnden flipped a page and brought the + fruit to view. Nobody had ever heard of a peach tree growing among the + rocks of Egypt. On the other hand, nobody supposed that a town order on + the Egypt treasury was worth anything, as things stood. There were folks + who bought peach trees! + </p> + <p> + And in the meantime there was much clatter in and about the old Britt + house, tumble of timbers and rip of wainscotings and snarl of drawing + nails. Out from the gaping windows floated the powdery drift of the + plastering which the broad shovels had tackled. The satirists said that it + was noticeable that the statue of Tasper Britt in the cemetery had settled + down heavier on its heels, as if making grimly sure that Hittie was + staying where she could not interfere. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime, also, Tasper Britt and a hired girl had become fixtures + in the Harnden home—and the hired girl was quite in love with Vona + and in entire sympathy with her stand; the girl brought to Vona's room the + tidbits of all the meals and offered to put tacks in Britt's doughnuts if + that would help matters any. + </p> + <p> + Vona was entirely serene in her companionship with her father and her + mother. As for Tasper Britt, in sitting room or hall, on the street or on + the lawn of the Harndens, he was ignored as completely, yet sweetly, as if + he were an innocuous dweller in the so-called Fourth Dimension—to be + seen through—even walked through—a mere shade, uninterred, + unhonored, and unwarranted. + </p> + <p> + Tasper Britt, relentlessly on the job of punishing those who had poisoned + his pride and his peace of mind, acknowledged to himself that the attitude + of this girl was reacting on him in the way of more acute punishment than + he was dealing out to anybody just then, except to Vaniman. Through the + latter the girl was punished. But that punishment had steeled her to the + stand she was making in the case of Britt. The god of the machine pondered + on the case and constantly found himself in a more parlous state of mind + because he did ponder. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden tried his best to cheer the morose Britt. Some days the + usurer-suitor wanted to cuff the optimist; some days he felt that he would + go crazy unless Harnden could extend some hope, suggest some way of + changing the girl's attitude. + </p> + <p> + All the time Mr. Harnden was very cheerful and extremely busy; his nag + kicked up the dust along all the roads. His book of lithographs was + dog's-eared with much thumbing, but he had served as a human vacuum + cleaner in sucking up most of the town orders. Mr. Harnden was very free + with information, customarily. But when folks asked him whatever in the + world he expected to do with those town orders he was reticent as to any + details of his plans. He considered that his optimism of faith in the + future of the town covered the matter. He said so. He let it go at that. + </p> + <p> + One day Harnden roamed far afield and went to the shire. + </p> + <p> + The next day he came back from the shire. + </p> + <p> + After supper he sat in a wicker chair on the lawn with Tasper Britt, who + was wearing a new suit of white flannel and who scowled when Vona passed + along the walk without even a glance in that direction, though Britt had + twitched up his trousers leg to show a particularly handsomely clocked + sock. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden did a lot of talking that evening. Every now and then, as if + to fortify his optimistic courage, he declared, “After all, business is + business—and the trend of the times is to make the most of + opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + Britt was showing interest in what Harnden was saying—interest and + satisfaction, too. But all at once that interest was diverted and the + smooth satisfaction was wrinkled by a scowl. Britt swore roundly and + struggled up from his chair. + </p> + <p> + Prophet Elias was passing along the street. He flapped his hand in a + greeting contemptuously indifferent and went on his way toward Usial's + cot. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I was intending to tell you about him,” avowed Mr. Harnden, “but I've + had more important things to talk over!” + </p> + <p> + Britt gave to this blunderheaded news purveyor the tail end of the + malevolent stare that he had been bestowing on the Prophet's back. + </p> + <p> + “I heard about it when I was over to the shire town. A city lawyer showed + up the other day and deposited cash bonds and got out a writ, and got + Elias out, too, and the case has been appealed. Looks like the Prophet has + footed it back here again. But I suppose you can arrest him on that other + case of trespass.” + </p> + <p> + Britt did not show especial alacrity in starting anything else in the case + of the new arrival in town. He sat down. “Who was the lawyer? Who sent + him?” + </p> + <p> + “Guess he didn't say. Let the money do the talking for him. And money can + talk! Now, as I was saying, to get back to our regular business, it's up + to you to name the ones that Dowd will tackle. Say, where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + Britt was on his feet and moving rapidly. “Somewhere to do some thinking + away from that carpet-loom, shuttle-tongued, infernal mouth of yours!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden, astonished and much hurt, watched the usurer till he tramped + into Britt Block. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Harnden had too much important business of his own on his mind to + use time in wondering how a Prophet had managed to get out of jail. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <h3> + BLOOD OUT OF TURNIPS + </h3> + <p> + In the past Mr. Harnden had regularly referred to Egypt as a good + jumping-off place; he emphasized the jest by pointing to the ledge + outcroppings which indicated that the landscape would not sag under the + weight of the most energetic jumper. Then away he would go! + </p> + <p> + His detractors said that he was in the habit of coming home when affairs + were in such a bad way with him that he could not stay anywhere else. + </p> + <p> + His wife and daughter had never admitted anything of the sort, even to + each other. They affectionately welcomed Mr. Harnden when he came; after + he had stoked the fires of his faith, and they had darned his socks and + mended his shirts, they gave him the accustomed encouraging and loving + Godspeed when he went away again under a full head of optimism. They + always agreed with him, on each going-away, that this was surely the time + when Opportunity was waiting outside. + </p> + <p> + But for many weeks Opportunity had seemed to be camping with Mr. Harnden + right in his own home town. He was brisk, radiant, and apparently + prosperous. + </p> + <p> + Therefore, when he announced in the bosom of his family that he proposed + to go away for a time, his wife and daughter were frankly astonished. + </p> + <p> + It was directly after breakfast on the morning following Mr. Harnden's + return from the shire town. + </p> + <p> + He did not display his usual jocose manner when he referred to Egypt as a + jumping-off place. Vona found a sort of furtive uneasiness in the way he + glanced out of the window and fingered his vest-pocket equipment. And he + trod to and fro with the air of a man stepping on hot bricks. + </p> + <p> + “But you have said you are doing so well in your new business, father!” + Vona's straightforward gaze was disconcerting. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden kept on with his patrol. “Confound it. I've got to get into + towns where there's more dirt if I'm going to sell any more nursery + stock!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is that it? But I happened to go up in the attic and I found your + sample books thrown behind a trunk, and I was afraid—” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid of what?” he demanded, with childish temper. + </p> + <p> + “Afraid you were giving up what seems to be a sure thing. The other + ventures have been such uncertainties!” she returned, her business woman's + composure unaffected by his reproachful stare. + </p> + <p> + “The books were all smutched up—too many dirty fingers afoul of + them. I shall get new ones—providing I stay in that line.” He was + not convincing. “We'll see—we'll see! I've got to be moving. These + are busy times for me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you don't say when you're coming back, Joe!” quavered his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I begin to set dates now, when I never have in past times?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I suppose it's because we've got so used to having you at home,” she + confessed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm leaving matters in better shape than I ever did before,” said Mr. + Harnden, pompously. “I have been worried about my home in the past when I + have had to be absent on my business. We have Tasper in the house now. And + he will not only guard and protect, but he will pay as he goes. I may not + go far or stay long. Just let it stand that way. Tell inquiring friends + that. I'll keep you posted. You know what my business is; it takes me here—it + takes me there.” He gave his wife a peck of a kiss and patted Vona's + shoulder when he passed her. He picked up a valise in the hallway. + </p> + <p> + The girl followed him. “Father, always when you have been away, mother and + I have felt perfectly comfortable and safe here in our home. If Mr. Britt + hasn't the sense or the good taste to go somewhere else to board, won't + you suggest to him that he'd better do so?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing of the sort, Vona!” declared Harnden. “That contractor has + brought a lot of strangers here to work on Britt's house, seeing that the + men of this town are biting off their noses to spite their faces! I + wouldn't take a minute's peace, knowing that my home is unprotected, + unless I felt that a friend of mine was here as guardian. Oh, I know what + you mean! But I have the safety of my family to consider instead of a + girl's whims.” + </p> + <p> + She did not argue the matter. His peppery impatience was increasing. This + time he was not departing with his customary bland hopefulness. She knew + the sort of selfishness her father possessed and how he avoided scenes + that troubled his smug serenity. But on this occasion he seemed to be + impelled by some urgent reason outside of mere anxiety to be away from + complaining tongues. + </p> + <p> + He hurried out of the house and went to the stable, and she said no + further word. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later he drove away, flinging a kiss to his womenfolks from + the finger tips of the yellow gloves. + </p> + <p> + He headed directly out of the village and drove at a good clip. + </p> + <p> + However, one might have concluded that Mr. Harnden's destination was not + as clearly settled in his mind as the haste of his departure suggested. + When he came to four corners he pulled up and looked to right and to left + and to the straight ahead. Mr. Harnden was too well acquainted with all + the roads of Egypt and its environs to be confused by anything except + strictly personal and peculiar doubts which had nothing to do with the + matter of destination. He looked up into the heavens, as if he really + wished that he might be able to escape from Egypt by flight. Then he did + literally what the Yankee phrase suggests by way of synonym for taking + counsel—“he looked between the horse's ears.” He narrowed his eyes + in meditation and spoke aloud. “I reckon it's only general nervousness on + account of overwork and women's foolishness. There ain't one chance in ten + that they'll get around to it to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Arriving at that comfortable conclusion, Mr. Harnden lighted a cigar and + chirruped to his horse and drove straight on. + </p> + <p> + The road zigzagged through an alder swamp for some distance, and the horse + footed along slowly because a portion of the way was patched with sapling + “corduroy.” And with the impulse of a man who had been obliged to waste + time, and saw an opportunity to get on, Harnden whipped up when he was + again facing a smooth road. Therefore he came suddenly around the bend of + the alders into cleared country and abreast a farm. It was a farm made up + of the alluvial soil of the lowlands and was a rather pretentious tract of + tillage, compared with the other hillside apologies of Egypt. And the + buildings were in fairly good repair. It was the home of Jared Sparks + Grant, the first selectman of the town. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harnden did not look to right or left as his horse trotted past. He + did not appear to be interested in the affairs of Egyptians that day—even + in the case of the town's chief executive. When Harnden was hailed + raucously he did not pull up, though he heard his name. After a few + moments a gun banged behind him. + </p> + <p> + “I'm saving the other barrel,” the voice announced, after Harnden had + steered his horse from the gutter into the road; the animal had been + frightened by the pattering of shot in the foliage of a tree overhead. + “You'll get it straight, Harnden, unless you drive back here!” + </p> + <p> + When Harnden wheeled the horse and returned he perceived a dooryard group + which he had affected not to see a few moments before. + </p> + <p> + There were Jared Sparks Grant, his son, his womenfolks, his hired man; Mr. + Harnden recognized all of them, of course. He also recognized + Deputy-sheriff Wagner Dowd from the shire town. Dowd had a couple of + helpers with him. It was plain that the shotgun which had halted Mr. + Harnden had been very nigh at hand and ready for use; there was a look + about the folks in the dooryard which suggested an armed truce, now + prolonged, for the handling of the new arrival. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you realize what's going on here?” demanded Selectman Grant, his + weapon in the hook of his arm. + </p> + <p> + “No!” asserted Mr. Harnden. + </p> + <p> + “I know a blamed sight better! You can't look at this deputy sheriff + without turning redder than one of the apples in that fake picture book of + yours. You know what you have been doing in this town.” + </p> + <p> + The selectman's tone was offensively harsh and loud. Mr. Harnden was moved + to show a little spirit, having been cornered—and feeling protected + by the presence of an officer of the law. “I have been doing business!” + </p> + <p> + “Scooping in town orders, you mean!” + </p> + <p> + “Taking them in the due course of my business, Mr. Selectman. I had a + right to do it!” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you do with those orders?” + </p> + <p> + “I passed them on—still in the course of my business.” + </p> + <p> + “And you don't know into whose hands they have come?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no!” + </p> + <p> + The selectman stepped close to the carriage and brandished his gun. “While + this town was staggering along, trying to find a way out, only a hellion + would take and make a club out of those orders and hit us the last and + final clip with 'em. You've done it, Harnden! For the sake of the dirty + money you've done it. They were letting those orders rest easy till we + could get the legislature and have things put into some condition where + we'd know what's what. Through your work some land pirate has got hold of + those town orders. There isn't a cent in the town treasury. You know it.” + </p> + <p> + He whirled away from Harnden and shook the gun at the deputy sheriff. + </p> + <p> + “I sha'n't believe your law, Dowd, till I've been and talked with Squire + Hexter.” + </p> + <p> + “Go and talk! But in the meantime a good lawyer has told me what to do and + has given me the documents, and I'm not trying the case in your dooryard. + I have levied on those oxen and I shall take 'em along.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear that, Harnden? That's what you have done to your town,” + bellowed the infuriated selectman. “He says there's a law allowing a + creditor to levy on the property of any citizen of a town to satisfy a + judgment. Judgment has been secured on those town orders. They are jumping + on me first.” + </p> + <p> + “It's what the lawyer told me to do,” insisted the officer. “'Start with + the selectman,' says he. 'That shows the others where they get off.' + Grant, I'm here with the papers and the right to act.” He advanced close + to the selectman, waggling admonitory forefinger. “I've been excusing your + feelings. I don't blame you! This is tough. It's the penalty you pay for + living in such a town. But I don't propose to stand for any more of that + gunplay. Hand it over!” + </p> + <p> + Grant hesitated. The officer snatched away the gun, broke it down, and + pulled out the undischarged shell. He put that into his pocket and shoved + the gun under the seat of a wagon. “You can have this gun back after the + war is over. Now to business! You claim that the oxen are exempt because + you have no horses. All right! I see you have a dozen cows. I'll take + three of those. I'm fair, you see! You're only entitled to one cow. But + keep nine. I'm going to spread the thing around town till I have enough to + satisfy this judgment. It's for one hundred and ninety dollars. What say, + now? Do you want to pay a fine for obstructing an officer?” + </p> + <p> + Selectman Grant shook his head. The flame of his rage had died down into + sullen rancor. He went along to Harnden's carriage and suddenly nipped + that gentleman's nose between toil-calloused index and middle fingers. + “They tell me there's no law against doing this,” he said between his + yellow, hard-set teeth, as he twisted at the nose, while Harnden's eyes + ran water. “If there is a law, I hope you'll stay handy by in this town + and prosecute while we're heating the tar and getting the feathers ready.” + </p> + <p> + Sheriff Dowd took advantage of Selectman Grant's preoccupation with + Harnden. He gave off orders to his helpers and they lowered the bars of + the barnyard and started away with the cows. + </p> + <p> + There was a general disintegration of the group. Mrs. Grant led the + lamenting womenfolk into the house. Mr. Harnden did not really extricate + his nose; Grant twisted so violently that he broke his own grip, and his + victim laced the whip under the horse's belly and escaped. + </p> + <p> + Within ten minutes Selectman Grant was whipping his own horse in a + direction opposite to that which Harnden had taken. Mr. Grant was hot + after law. + </p> + <p> + Squire Hexter gave him the law, and cold comfort. + </p> + <p> + “They can do it, Jared. Outsiders can get hold of unpaid town orders and + put on the screws if they're that heartless. It isn't done once in a dog's + age. But, as I say, it can be done when a creditor is ugly enough. Harnden + didn't say, did he, just who brought the orders?” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't have believed him if he did say! But he didn't say.” + </p> + <p> + “And you don't know the man who secured judgment?” + </p> + <p> + “Never heard of him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will try to trace the matter, Jared. No, keep your wallet in your + pocket. There's no charge. It's a case where the interests of the citizens + in general are concerned. I'm the regularly elected town agent, as you + know!” The Squire smiled. “I'll take a town order for my pay.” He looked + out of the window. “It's about time for somebody else to come larruping up + here after law! Don't hurry, Jared! Wait and hear what's happened to the + neighbors!” + </p> + <p> + The selectman sat gloomily, elbows squared on his knees, and waited. + Almost opposite the Squire's office the rattle-te-bang business on Britt's + premises was going on. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder whether Tasper will dare to go ahead and build his palace after + he hears the latest news,” suggested the Squire. “You must be told, Jared, + that after the live stock of the town has been thinned down to the + essentials permitted by law, then the farms and general real estate can be + levied on.” + </p> + <p> + Grant lifted his haggard face and stared at the Squire. “Then, outside of + the cook stove and my clothes, I don't know whether I'm worth a blasted + cent, hey? They can dreen me slow with a gimlet, or let it out all at once + with a pod auger, can they? That's what the law can do <i>to</i> me, you + say! What can it do <i>for</i> me, Squire Hexter?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Jared, they'll take your cows over to the shire and auction them + off for what they'll bring. You can sue this town and recover the real + value of the cows, along with interest at twelve per cent. That is to say, + you can get judgment against the town for that amount.” + </p> + <p> + “And then I can go over to my neighbor's and grab away any loose property + I can find of his?” + </p> + <p> + “You can do it!” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Squire, that makes it nothing except a game of 'tag, you're + it,' and a case of 'I've got my fingers crossed'! The whole of us running + around in circles, and the lawyers picking up all the loose change we drop + from our pockets. Where do we wind up?” + </p> + <p> + The Squire shook his head slowly and reached down and stroked one of Eli's + ears. “Eli was telling me that Jones thought he had invented perpetual + motion when he tied a piece of liver to a pup's tail and set the pup to + revolving; but the pup wore out.” + </p> + <p> + Grant sat for some minutes and harkened to the bang of the hammers across + the way. “I don't understand how a farseeing man like Tasp Britt dares to + build a good house here,” he growled. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the pup may be worn out by the time it is finished—or those + towers may mean that he intends to list it as a meetinghouse and have it + exempted from taxation, Jared. We shall see!” + </p> + <p> + But whatever it was that the selectman saw, as he sat there and stared at + the wall of Squire Hexter's office, it evidently was not serving in the + way of comfort. + </p> + <p> + The Squire's prediction about other seekers for law was fulfilled before + long. The deputy sheriff had proceeded on his travels. The afflicted + parties came up the Squire's stairs. Arden Young reported that three of + his best cows were driven away. George Jordan and his cousin J. O. Jordan + each surrendered two faithful moolies. It was plain that Sheriff Dowd + proposed to make sure that there was auction material enough to yield one + hundred and ninety dollars, along with the costs. + </p> + <p> + “Jared,” suggested the notary, “you'd better have an accounting and find + out how many of those town orders were issued when the reckless spirit was + on. Somebody has decided to milk the old town. It is being done + scientifically, seeing that this first mess is so modest. But we need to + know about how many messes we're expected to give down.” + </p> + <p> + Inside of a fortnight there were two more milkings. + </p> + <p> + At about that time Tasper Britt started proceedings to foreclose a couple + of mortgages. The debtors despondently declared that they would not + attempt to redeem the property; they told Britt that he could have it for + what he could get out of it. The usurer tried to show disinclination to + take over real estate in Egypt, but he did not make a very good job of the + pretense. He had the air of a man who expected to be obliged to tussle for + something, but had had the something dropped into his grasp when he merely + touched the holder's knuckles. + </p> + <p> + Britt had a map of the town in his office desk. He began to color sections + with a red crayon. According to Mr. Britt's best judgment in the matter, + he was in a fine way to own a whole town—a barony six miles square—at + an extremely reasonable figure. From the selectman down, nobody seemed to + feel that Egypt property was worth anything. As to beginning suits against + the town, nobody felt like paying lawyers' fees and piling up costs. It + was like tilting against a fog bank. And in a veritable fog bank of doubt + and despair the unhappy Egyptians wandered around and around. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <h3> + THE TAUT STRING SNAPS + </h3> + <p> + Frank Vaniman's mother was allowed to visit him once a month at the + prison. She was not present at his trial. She had respected his earnest + wishes in that matter. + </p> + <p> + When she came to him she smiled—she did not weep. When she smiled he + wanted to weep. He realized how much that display of calm courage was + costing Martha Vaniman. He remembered how bravely and steadfastly she had + brought that same heroine's quality to the support of his father when she + had taken Frank with her to the prison; they used to walk in through the + gloomy portal hand in hand, and, though her face was serene, her throbbing + fingers told him what her heart was saying to her. + </p> + <p> + Her husband had thankfully accepted that little fiction of her fortitude; + her son, under like circumstances, did the same. Between mother and son, + as between husband and wife, was the bond of an implicit faith in the + innocence of the accused. Love was not shamed, no matter how the outside + world might view the matter. + </p> + <p> + The prison warden was a fat man, full of sympathy. He gave the mother and + son the privileges of his office, and to those reassuring surroundings the + mother brought Frank's sister on one of the regular visits. + </p> + <p> + After Mr. Wagg's guile gave Vaniman his outdoor job, the mother brought + Anna each month, for the school vacation season was on. The sun was bright + out there in the yard. One could look up into the fleecy clouds, over the + walls, and forget the bars and the armed guards. + </p> + <p> + In fact, one day, Anna's ingenuous forgetfulness of the true situation + provoked real merriment for the little party—Guard Wagg included. + Anna surveyed apprehensively several particularly villainous-looking + barrowmen who passed and expressed the devout hope that Frank always saw + to it carefully that he locked his bedroom door nights. + </p> + <p> + Before all the zest of that joke had evaporated, Mrs. Vaniman departed; it + was a part of her helpful tact in alleviating the grievous situation in + which Frank was placed. She always came with the best little piece of news + she could provide for the meeting; for the parting she reserved a bit of a + joke. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wagg chuckled for a long time after the visitors went away. Gradually + his face became serious. “Of course, I have to sit here and listen to + what's said, because that's my duty. But, as I have told you before, all + family matters simply pass into one ear and out of the other.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm mighty grateful for the way you have treated us,” said Vaniman. + </p> + <p> + “The fact that we haven't done business as yet hasn't changed me—never + will change me. That mother of yours is so fine a woman that she deserves + every favor that I can grant her, for her own sake. And, she being so fine + a woman, I was sorry to hear what you wormed out of her this day—that + she has gone back to work in the store again.” + </p> + <p> + “It was the one big happiness in my life in Egypt, Mr. Wagg, to feel that + at last my mother was having the little rest and comfort that she + deserved. I used to look ahead to the time when I could give her what I + was able to give her while I was at work. I had a dreadful struggle with + her, getting her to leave her work. The only way I ever did get around her + was to complain that she was spoiling my prettiest dream by staying in the + store. And now it's all to do over again. I haven't even the realization + of the dream to help me here.” + </p> + <p> + “It's tough—realizing what you could do if you had the chance, and + not being able to do it,” averred Mr. Wagg. He lighted his pipe and slid + off his stool. “A woman earning her living these days has to do a terrible + lot of hard work in seven years.” + </p> + <p> + And having, after his usual custom, lighted a fire under the kettle, Mr. + Wagg went to a distance and allowed the contents to boil. + </p> + <p> + The contents did boil that day, when Vaniman had an opportunity to do some + concentrated thinking. + </p> + <p> + That morning he had received his weekly letter from Vona. She confessed to + him that for some weeks she had refrained from telling him that Tasper + Britt was a member of the household. She explained under what + circumstances Britt was there and what her attitude was and would continue + to be. She had not written anything about the matter, she said, on account + of her anxiety to keep petty troubles and worries away from one who was + suffering from such cruel injustice. But now that her father had gone away + for an indefinite stay, leaving Britt as general guardian, she wrote to + Vaniman to anticipate any rumors which might reach the young man from + another quarter. + </p> + <p> + She did not state that this intrusion by Britt into her home was perpetual + persecution where she was concerned; Vaniman felt that she did not need to + say so. His imagination pictured the situation. He had become morbid. He + admitted it, but he could not help himself. He had done his best to keep + his judgments sane and his hopes untarnished. But he was judging Britt by + what Britt had already done, and he was in a mood to believe that Britt + would be able to go ahead and accomplish a lot more in the way of hideous + deviltry. The thought of Britt in that house—a girl there with no + other protection than the presence of a silly mother—made for agony + of apprehension that was excruciating. + </p> + <p> + One of his most precious dreams had just melted into drab reality—his + mother was compelled to go back to her toil. + </p> + <p> + His other dream—the one that was consoling him through the dreary + wait of seven years behind bars—was threatened by the malevolence of + a man who was showing himself to be a veritable fiend in his machinations. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman put some questions to himself. Who on God's green earth had a more + imperious call to be out—to be free to fight for himself and the + innocent? Would not a lie be holy if it should open prison doors and allow + a guiltless man to go forth and battle with the guilty? Did not the end + justify all the means? The state had declared that his liberty must be + forfeited. Had the state the right to take away his reason? Vaniman told + himself that he was on the straight road to lunacy. + </p> + <p> + He leaped up, in the frenzy of his determination forgetting that there + were preliminaries yet to be attended to. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down there, Convict Two-Seven-Nine, or I'll bore ye!” bawled Guard + Wagg, with a mighty volume of tone. A deputy warden was crossing the yard. + He flourished a commendatory salute to the vigilant warder. + </p> + <p> + “Good stuff, Bart! Always on your job, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Always!” agreed Mr. Wagg. + </p> + <p> + The warden went on his way and the guard marched to the convict with a + manner which expressed a determination to give No. 279 an earful. He stood + over Vaniman, who had dropped back to the chair, and the two of them + swapped stares. + </p> + <p> + “I want to get out—I want to get out!” whimpered Vaniman. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wagg nodded. + </p> + <p> + “What must I do?” + </p> + <p> + “Whack up with me—fifty-fifty. Haven't I told you times enough?” + </p> + <p> + “But, I mean, what must I do to help?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't need any of your help. I only want you to say that you'll lead me + to that money.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman drew a deep breath. “I will lead you to that money.” + </p> + <p> + “Some men would make you swear that you know just where the coin is,” + proceeded Wagg. “But I'm playing my own hunch in this thing on that point. + Furthermore, I have talked with a chap named Bixby.” He looked hard at the + ex-cashier. “Bixby tied your little game into knots, didn't he?” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman admitted that fact by a rueful sag of his chin. + </p> + <p> + “Confidence—mutual confidence in each other!” Mr. Wagg walked away. + When he came back past Vaniman, patrolling, he snapped: “No more talk! No + more need of talk. Never can tell when talk may trip us. From now on, sit + tight!” + </p> + <p> + After that, though days passed, Wagg had not one word for the amelioration + of the convict's impatience. Then, one day, Wagg changed his job again. + Vaniman was kept at the same work, if work it could be called. He caught + glimpses of Wagg. The guard was busy on the opposite side of the big pit. + He had two or three convict helpers. They began to operate drills in the + side of a rocky hillock which towered considerably above the level of the + yard. + </p> + <p> + News circulates inside prison walls despite the inhibition on + communications between the inmates. Vaniman got information piecemeal from + convicts who stopped near him on the pretense of spitting on their hands + to get a new grip on their barrow handles. He learned that the plan was to + mine the hillock and rig a blast that would tip it into the pit for + filling. The barrow work was proving too slow an operation and the prison + commissioners wanted the outside men put back into the shops where they + could earn money for the state. + </p> + <p> + It was evident that Guard Wagg was having a great deal of trouble with his + helpers. He was continually bawling them out with a violence whose volume + reached the ears of Vaniman. + </p> + <p> + One day Wagg perceived the warden inspecting the work from the edge of the + pit near Vaniman; the guard came trotting around. + </p> + <p> + “Warden, I'm an expert on quarry work, as you know,” he panted. “I'm doing + my best to show you that I haven't forgotten what I learned over at + Stoneport, and to back up what I promised you and the commissioners after + I gave you the tip as to what could be done with that hill. Much obliged + to you for allowing me all the dynamite I need. But, demmit! I haven't got + anybody with brains to help me handle it. It's notional stuff, sir. It + hates a blasted fool.” He pointed a finger at the men across the pit. + Their striped suits suggested the nomenclature he used “Those potato bugs + will do something to blow us to blazes sure'n there's air in a doughnut + hole!” + </p> + <p> + The warden showed his concern. “Don't you know of some man who is used to + dynamite?” + </p> + <p> + “That ain't it, sir. A fool gets used to it, till he's too cussed + familiar. I want a man with brains enough to be polite to it.” + </p> + <p> + The warden, making a general survey of the scene, beheld Vaniman. “A man + who knows enough to be a bank cashier ought to have brains, Wagg. How + about Number Two-Seven-Nine?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wagg contemplated Vaniman and took plenty of time for thought. “I'll + try him,” he said, without enthusiasm. “I hadn't thought of him—but + I'll try him.” + </p> + <p> + Directed to do so by the warden, Vaniman went to his new work with Wagg. + The latter exhibited no especial symptoms of satisfaction at securing such + a helper. He told the young man that his particular care would be the + dynamite—to handle the boxes, store them in the little shed, unpack + the sticks, and follow the drills, planting the rendrock ready for the + blast that was to topple the hillock into the pit. Mr. Wagg explained to + the warden, after a time, that the dynamite could be planted more safely + and to better advantage when the drillers were off the job. Therefore, + Vaniman was detailed to help during the noon hour while the prisoners were + at dinner. + </p> + <p> + But, even when they were alone together, day after day, Mr. Wagg + maintained his reticence. Once in a while he did wink at Vaniman. The + winks grew more frequent when Mr. Wagg began to connect up the dynamite + pockets in the hill with wires. One afternoon, near knocking-off time, he + stepped into the shed where Vaniman was covering up his boxes for the + night. “When you leave your cell in the morning,” said the man who had + promised freedom, “hide in your pockets all the letters and little + chickle-fixings you intend to carry away with you. You won't be going back + into that cell again, Number Two-Seven-Nine.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <h3> + NO VOICE FROM THE PIT + </h3> + <p> + It was a night of wakefulness and of tremors for Vaniman. His was the + acute expectancy of one who was about to set out on strange adventures, + but whose orders were sealed and whose destination was unknown. Wagg's + stolid appearance of knowing just what he was about had been a steadying + aid in helping the young man control his doubts; in issuing his final, + curt commands Wagg did not abate his confidence; Vaniman felt that he was + in no position to demand more candor. + </p> + <p> + He forced himself to eat his breakfast when it was pushed under his cell + door. The messes that were daily dabbed into the compartments of the tin + tray were never appetizing; that morning his emotions made everything as + tasteless as sawdust. But he ate for strength's sake; he did not know what + form of endurance would be demanded of him. + </p> + <p> + He put only a few of his letters into his pocket. Cells were inspected + every day after the convicts went forth to their toil. He did not dare to + excite suspicion by taking away any noticeable amount of his possessions. + </p> + <p> + The forenoon work went on as usual. And Mr. Wagg gave no signs that this + was the day of days according to his plans. He constantly warned the + convicts not to meddle with any of the wires. He was even peremptorily + short with a deputy warden who came poking around. The warden asked if + there was any danger. + </p> + <p> + “There's always danger when a hill is full of wired-up, canned thunder,” + stated Mr. Wagg. “I maintain, as I always have maintained, that it's + notional stuff. You'll kindly remember that I told you so.” + </p> + <p> + The warden departed with an air that revealed how much he had been + impressed. + </p> + <p> + With the crisis so near, irritability pricked Vaniman's state of nervous + tension. He began to resent Wagg's contemptuous silence in regard to + details. That the guard's plans were concerned in some way with the mined + hillock was evident enough. But an explosion which merely would create a + diversion to assist in an escape was not a device that would effectively + solve his difficulties, Vaniman reflected. Wagg's general stolidity made + him seem rather stupid; the young man felt that his own wits ought to be + enlisted in the affair. In the stress of circumstances he hankered to + co-operate instead of being a sort of Ludlam's dog, dumb and driven. + </p> + <p> + However, toward noon, Mr. Wagg was displaying a certain amount of tension + of his own and his demeanor did not invite complaints or recrimination. + The convict decided that there was nothing for it except to let Mr. Wagg + do the wagging. + </p> + <p> + When the noon bell clanged from the tower, the pit-job prisoners filtered + into groups from their occupation in the yard and others filed from the + doors of the shops. They shuffled their way in double lines through the + gaping door of the main building, received their tins of food, and went to + their cells. + </p> + <p> + As usual, Vaniman remained with Wagg. + </p> + <p> + The warders on the walls relaxed their vigilance when the heavy door was + closed behind the last men of the lines. The guards went into the sentry + boxes and set down the heavy rifles. + </p> + <p> + Wagg made a general survey of the scene. No person was moving in the open + area of the yard. The veteran of the guard was well acquainted with the + customary habits and movements of the noon hour. He knew that the men in + the main guardroom were reduced to a shift of two while the others went to + their dinners; the two men were in the habit of giving the deserted yard + only indifferent attention. But Mr. Wagg had provided against even casual + glances. + </p> + <p> + For purposes of his own, which a boss did not need to explain, he had + nailed boards together to form something like a door, six feet square. The + thing had been leaning against the dynamite shed for some days. + </p> + <p> + Quite casually, Mr. Wagg went and lifted away this square of boarding, + holding to the traverse braces on which the boards were nailed. He trudged + along, carrying it, and came to where Vaniman was standing, observing and + wondering. + </p> + <p> + “Scooch!” snapped Wagg. “Walk along. Don't show yourself past this + shield!” + </p> + <p> + It was a true shield. Wagg carried it straight up and down. Vaniman obeyed + instantly. He had a mental flash that Wagg did know exactly what he was + about in his tactics. Lacking all idea of the scheme, Vaniman had not the + heart to begin to ask for any details of the big plan at the crucial + moment. He allowed himself to be an automaton. It was easy to do one thing + at a time, as Wagg commanded; knowing nothing about what Wagg intended to + do. Vaniman was not in a position to delay matters by doubts as to the + best way of doing the thing. He walked behind the board screen, conscious + that his movements were hidden from the men in the guardroom and, for that + matter, from the eyes of anybody in the prison building. + </p> + <p> + After a walk of a few rods Vaniman found himself close to a big chimney; + it served a shop which had been unused since the crew had been at work on + the job of filling the pit. Wagg set down the shield on its edge, as if + needing to rest for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Open that chimney door and dodge in. Pull the door to behind you.” + </p> + <p> + At the base of the chimney Vaniman beheld the iron door provided for the + convenience of cleaners and repair men. The padlock of the door was + unhooked. He lifted the door from its latch, crawled into the chimney, and + pulled the door shut. A moment later, waiting in the stifling darkness, he + heard the rattle of metal against metal and the snap of the padlock. There + was the tramp of departing feet. Gradually he became able to see about him + in some degree. Away up above him was a square of sunlit sky at the top of + the shaft. He saw in one corner a large pail with a cover; inside it were + several bottles. Also, there was a bundle of clothing. + </p> + <p> + Judging from the amount of food, it was rather evident that Mr. Wagg + expected prison-bird Two-Seven-Nine to play chimney swallow for some + little time! + </p> + <p> + Wagg had made a quick job of locking in Vaniman. The guard tipped the + upper edge of the shield inward till it rested against the chimney. He + reached around the end of the boarding and snapped the padlock. Then he + lifted his burden and went on. + </p> + <p> + About that time a lazy man in the guardroom rolled slow gaze upon the + yard. He saw Wagg moving with the burden and watched until Wagg laid it + down flat on the ground. He opined that it was a part of the bomb-proof + shelter that Wagg proposed to build in order to watch the hillock-smashing + at close range. The other guard confirmed that opinion, having information + straight from Wagg, himself. + </p> + <p> + “When does she bust?” + </p> + <p> + “Next week, so he cal'lates!” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Wagg, returning slowly, keeping to the side of the pit farthest + from the hillock, was at that moment down to seconds in his figuring how + long it would be before the crawling fire on a fuse would reach and sever + a cord and trip a certain trigger. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon she's about due,” muttered Mr. Wagg. He stopped without easy + jumping distance of the corner of a shop and slowly lighted his pipe as an + excuse for stopping. + </p> + <p> + His reckoning was correct. + </p> + <p> + The hillock heaved. The mining had been skillfully done; the mass of rocks + and earth was hoisted from behind and slid toward the pit. There was a + tremor of the ground under the prison and its yard as if Thor had thunked + viciously with his heaviest hammer. When startled men shot glances from + the windows that were handiest for observation, the hill was toppling into + the pit. In the forefront was the dynamite shed, splintering under the + tons of moving rock. Instantly the last sliver of the shed was swallowed + up, and then other tons of dirt and rock went piling into the pit, burying + the shattered structure in crashing depths from which lime-rock dust came + puffing in clouds. + </p> + <p> + On the edge of the pit a man was dancing wildly in an aura of dust. The + man was Wagg. He came staggering away from the pit, his arms folded across + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I saw him!” he squalled, when officers met him in their race across the + yard from the prison. “He was in the shed. I told him to keep away from + them wires. I've been telling everybody to keep off'n them wires. But + everybody has been bound and determined to fool with 'em.” He pulled down + his arms and shot accusatory digit at the deputy warden whom he had + previously rebuked. “Only this day I had to warn you not to fool with them + wires. He must have done it. I saw him go under. It's Gawd-awful. I'll + never forget it—how he looked. Gimme water!” + </p> + <p> + He sucked from the edge of the tin dipper which a man brought, suffling + like a thirsty horse. He rolled up his eyes and surveyed the warden, who + had arrived. + </p> + <p> + “Number Two-Seven-Nine—you say he has gone?” The warden's + countenance registered honest horror; but Mr. Wagg's simulated horror was + even more convincing in its intensity. + </p> + <p> + “He's gone! He's under the whole of it!” Wagg dropped the dipper and + collapsed on the ground. “My nerve is all busted, Warden. I sha'n't ever + have any more grit to be a guard. I ask to be discharged. Here and now I + beg to be fired!” + </p> + <p> + “I'll arrange a furlough for you, Wagg,” said the warden, with + understanding sympathy. “You're entitled to a lay-off with pay. It was a + terrible thing to see!” + </p> + <p> + “And his mother!” mourned the guard. “Break it to her easy!” + </p> + <p> + “A dreadful—dreadful affair,” insisted the warden. + </p> + <p> + He started toward the edge of the pit. “And the prison commissioners, the + way state finances are, will never go to the expense of having all that + rock moved to dig him out.” + </p> + <p> + “Probably not, seeing that he's under the whole of it,” agreed Wagg. “He + was a likable chap, spite of what he had done to get in here. Poor + Two-Seven-Nine!” + </p> + <p> + One of the inside guards had arrived at the scene of mourning. He was + greatly excited. “And I guess it's poor Two-Eight-Two! He's missing from + the noon count-up, Mr. Warden!” + </p> + <p> + Wagg struggled upon his feet. He was not simulating the new phase of his + emotions. He looked distinctly frightened. “There's only one under there. + I saw him go. Who is Two-Eight-Two?” + </p> + <p> + “One of the pair sent down from Levant for breaking and entering in the + nighttime.” + </p> + <p> + “He wasn't in my crew—he wasn't on outdoor work,” shouted Wagg. + </p> + <p> + “What was his job?” demanded the warden. + </p> + <p> + “Harness shop,” reported an officer. He called to another guard and + started into the building indicated. + </p> + <p> + All those in the yard waited anxiously, their eyes on the door where the + guards had entered. Promptly the officers came out. One propelled a + convict, clutching the collar of the dingy prison coat; the other carried + a length of narrow ladder that was fashioned from strips of leather. “I + reckon he hid out to work on this,” said the guard. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you know that you couldn't get away with anything of that sort?” + the warden demanded, angrily. + </p> + <p> + The convict looked past the warden, straight into the eyes of Wagg. “You + never can tell what you can get away with till you try it,” Two-Eight-Two + declared. There was a touch of insolence in his manner. + </p> + <p> + “Into the doghole with him!” the warden commanded. + </p> + <p> + Wagg surveyed the departure of the convict. The man contrived to twist his + head around and look behind him; and he disclosed a grin. But he was + hampered by the clutch on his collar and Wagg was not sure that the grin + was intended for him, though the consciousness that the convict might have + beheld what was on the inner side of that shield of boards was a thought + which troubled Mr. Wagg's complacent belief that a good job had been well + done. + </p> + <p> + He continued to watch the man until the narrow door which opened from the + yard, admitting to the doghole cells, swallowed up the convict and his + guard. All that time a sort of quivery feeling was inside Wagg. He + actually found himself in frantic mental search of some kind of a lie to + be used in case the convict whirled and pointed to the big chimney and got + over an accusation. But the man did not look around again. + </p> + <p> + “I can plainly see that you are in a bad way, Wagg,” affirmed the warden. + Fervently did Mr. Wagg agree in his heart. “Your leave of absence dates + from this moment, if you say so.” + </p> + <p> + “I may have to go on to stone work again if I don't get back my grit, + warden. I'd like to have the run of the yard for a day or so, in order to + look over just how that blast worked. Seeing that it cost a human life, + I'd like to get full value of experience out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Come and go as you like, Wagg. I'll lend you a key to the small door + beside the wagon entrance in case you don't want to ring in through the + guardroom.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wagg expressed his gratitude in proper terms and allowed that he would + go and lie down for a time in order to calm himself. Again he urged the + warden to break the news gently to Vaniman's mother and respectfully + requested that Guard Wagg's sympathy be included in the condolence in the + official letter. + </p> + <p> + The newspapers of that afternoon contained an account of the tragic + happening at the state prison. + </p> + <p> + That night, too, Vona Harnden kept vigil, her door locked against her + mother, whose fatuous commonplaces of commiseration were like files + against the raw surface of the girl's agony. + </p> + <p> + The front parlor of the Harndens had been converted into a sleeping room + for Tasper Britt. Vona's room was over the parlor. She could hear the + rasping diapason of his snoring. He appeared to be sleeping with the calm + relaxation of a man who had been able to eliminate some especial worries + from his mind. + </p> + <p> + Furthermore, that night, the chairman of the prison commissioners had a + talk with the warden over the telephone. The warden made a guess as to how + many thousands of tons of rock were piled above the body of the + unfortunate victim. + </p> + <p> + “The taxpayers will never indorse the project of digging out that pit to + recover the body of a convict, no matter who he is,” declared the + commissioner. “I don't mean to sound brutal, but we must let it stand as + it is. Enter the reports of witnesses and declare the man officially dead. + Here is one case, at least, Mr. Warden, when there's no doubt about a man + being dead.” + </p> + <p> + However, shortly after twelve o'clock that night—and the night being + particularly black with an overcast sky—Bartley Wagg opened the iron + door of the big chimney and called forth Frank Vaniman and led him out + through the little door at the side of the carriage entrance. + </p> + <p> + There was a conveyance waiting there, a good-sized van, drawn by a + solid-looking horse. Mr. Wagg lifted the flap of the van's cover. + </p> + <p> + “Crawl in!” he commanded. “You'll find plenty of room along with the rest + of the camping kit. Roll yourself up in the tent and take it easy. My + nerves have been shocked by the terrible affair and I'm going into the + mountains to recuperate. Doctor's orders!” He was grimly serious. + </p> + <p> + He mounted the seat of the van and drove away with his passenger and the + outfit. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <h3> + THE SHADE WHO STALLED + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Wagg did not hurry. He used several days for his trip to Egypt. He + drove leisurely along roads which led through small towns and + out-of-the-way places. That plan afforded him opportunity and excuse for + pitching a tent to serve as shelter during the night stops. And after the + tent was pitched and the dusk descended, Vaniman was able to come + thankfully from the hateful restraint of the van and stroll along the + woodland aisles and get the kinks out of his anatomy. + </p> + <p> + But, although he eased his body, he was unable to ease his mind. He had + not expected to enjoy his questionable freedom, anyway. Liberty was of + value to him only as he might be able to use it in his fight for his + rights as an innocent man. He could not freely use his liberty until he + had cleared his name and thereby justified his escape from the prison. Now + he was wondering whether he would have allowed Wagg to proceed as he did + had the guard apprised him of the full details of the plan. The sweat of + anguish stood out on him as he pondered in the jolting van; he found no + pleasure in the respite of the peaceful woods. + </p> + <p> + By the plot of Wagg he had dealt his loved ones the cruel blow that sudden + death inflicts on the affections. In spite of what he hoped to gain from + his freedom, Vaniman was accusing himself, realizing what his mother, his + sister, and Vona were suffering. It was his nature to draw fine + distinctions in points of honor; he was ashamed in the presence of Wagg; + and in the consideration of the interests of self, he felt that his + liberty was exacting too great a price from others. To all intents and + purposes, outside the knowledge of one man to the contrary, he was dead, + and he had deprived his best beloved of hope and peace of mind. The one + man in the secret profanely declared that if Vaniman made an attempt to + communicate with any person in the world until their particular business + had been settled, the whole project was in danger. “I don't care how much + dependence you put in your mother's good sense. She's a woman, and women + slop over when they're all wowed up! She'd have to tell your sister, + wouldn't she? She couldn't let your sister go on suffering. And your + sister's too young to be trusted. Vaniman, the toughest part is over for + 'em. That's a cinch! They'll go on sorrowing, of course, but they'll be + feeling more reconciled every day. Mourners always do. Mourners can't help + seeing the bright side, after a time. Think of that and quit your + foolishness. You have made a trade with me. Till your part of that trade + is carried out you ain't a free agent to do what you want to do in your + own affairs.” + </p> + <p> + The worry over his inability to carry out that trade was mingled with the + young man's general bitterness of regret because he had challenged Fate so + boldly. + </p> + <p> + “There's one thing about it,” Mr. Wagg pursued, “the quicker you come + across with me the sooner you can do what you darnation want to on your + own hook. I have worked a thing that could be worked only once. You're out—and + you're out right. Nobody is chasing you. Take another name, show up in + some other part of the country, and you'll live happy ever after.” + </p> + <p> + He dwelt on that theme whenever the two talked, and he played all the + variations. Furthermore, he complained because Vaniman was not showing his + gratitude in more hearty fashion. “I catch you looking at me like a + youngster would look at a bumblebee crawling across his bare foot. I don't + ask to be taken into your bosom as your main and particular chum—understand + that! But while there's business on between us I expect pleasant looks, + even if you don't feel like handing me conversation.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wagg was doing practically all the talking on that trip. He had + emerged from his cocoon of taciturnity. He explained that naturally he was + a great talker, but that prison rules had pretty nigh paralyzed his tongue + and he was trying to get it back into good working order once more. + </p> + <p> + He made an especial point of vaunting himself upon the success of his + scheme of deliverance. He tackled the thing from all angles. He played it + up as the greatest achievement that ever had been worked in behalf of a + convict. Mr. Wagg, serving as board of appraisal of his own feat, kept + boosting the value. It was evident that he was suspecting that Vaniman, + out and free, was in the mood that is characteristic of the common run of + humanity: urgent desire is reckless about price; possession proceeds to + haggle and demur. + </p> + <p> + “And there's one thing about it,” insisted Wagg, “we've got to keep on + going ahead. We can't back up. We can't dissolve partnership. And the + trade has got to stand as it was made—fifty-fifty.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going back on the trade.” + </p> + <p> + They were sitting close to each other on a tussock behind their little + tent. Mr. Wagg leaned close and bored Vaniman with earnest gaze. “We'll + fetch Egypt on to-morrow's hitch. Of course, you're going to stick close + to me, and you can bet that I'm going to stick close to you till the + whack-up has been made. No shenanigan! Now, seeing how far I have gone in + doing my part, don't you think it's about time for you to come across?” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman spread his hands. “How can I? Wait till we get to Egypt.” Right + then he had no notion of what he was going to do when he arrived in Egypt. + He had not dared to look the proposition squarely in the face. He did not + even analyze his feelings. He was dimly conscious that he was pitying + Wagg. That ambitious person was in for a grievous disappointment. To be + sure, Wagg had insisted on following a current belief and persisted in + building his hopes on a fallacy and had forced human nature until weak + human nature had snapped under the strain. Wagg had refused to believe the + truth; he had preferred to indulge his own delusion in regard to the + treasure of the Egypt Trust company. Nevertheless, Vaniman was ashamed—and + he was afraid. + </p> + <p> + Britt was the crux of the situation—that was evident enough! Britt + knew where the coin was. Vaniman was sure on that point. Britt had so + maneuvered that wild-goose errand to Levant that he had made the affair + furnish opportunity to himself and fix the odium on Vaniman. In spite of + what the young man knew of Britt's lust for money, he believed that the + usurer had worked a scheme to ruin a rival instead of merely operating to + add to his riches. But Vaniman knew Britt well enough to reach the + conclusion that, once having the hard cash in his possession, and the + blame fastened on another man, Britt was allowing avarice to stand pat on + the play. + </p> + <p> + But if, now being on the job in person, he could rig a scheme to make + Britt disclose, what could be done for coadjutor Wagg? There was a reward + posted for information leading to the recovery of the money. Britt had + offered that reward. He had made quite a show of the thing in the public + prints. He pledged himself to pay the sum of two thousand five hundred + dollars from his own pocket, and Vaniman bitterly realized just why Britt + had adopted that pose. Would Wagg be content with the sop of the reward? + </p> + <p> + The man who had been declared dead knew that he must play for time. He ran + over various plans in his head. He did not feel like blurting out the + truth to Mr. Wagg and asking what that effectually compromised gentleman + was going to do about it. He needed Mr. Wagg. He thought of pleading that + the summer landscape was so much different from the winter lay of the + land, when the snow was heaped in the gullies and on the hills, that he + was bothered in remembering just where he had planted the treasure that + night; he reflected that he might show Mr. Wagg a hole in the rocks and + assert that some of the persistent Egyptian gold hunters had undoubtedly + located the money and taken it for themselves; being moved to more + desperate projects, he meditated on the plan of coming across to Wagg with + the whole story, showing him that Britt must be guilty, and thereby + turning a blackmailer loose on the magnate with plenty of material to use + in extorting what Wagg might consider fair pay for the work he had put in. + </p> + <p> + But Vaniman was freshly free from prison walls. Just then he was + psychologically incapable of standing up for himself as a real man ought. + His sense of innocence had not been able to withstand that feeling of + intimidation with which a prisoner becomes obsessed. Right along with him + was the man who had been persistently his guard in the prison. Wagg's + narrow rut of occupation had had its full effect on his nature. His + striated eyeballs had a vitreous look; they were as hard as marbles. + Vaniman knew that he could not look at those eyes and tell a convincing + lie. In view of Wagg's settled convictions in the matter of the treasure, + the real truth might be harder to support than a lie. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman went into the van like a whipped dog into a kennel and lay awake + and wrestled with his difficulties. + </p> + <p> + During the progress of the pilgrimage the next day Wagg halted frequently. + Vaniman could hear the conversations between his charioteer and the + natives of the section. Mr. Wagg was seeking information and at the same + time he gave out a modest amount of revelation about himself and his need + of a retired spot where he might recuperate. He explained that he wanted + to find a camp in some place so remote that nobody would be coming around + jarring his nerves. + </p> + <p> + Eventually he got on track of what he wanted. A native told him about an + abandoned log house on the top of a mountain called “Devilbrow.” + </p> + <p> + “They used it for a fire-warden station in the days when Egypt had enough + timber to make it an object to protect it,” said the man. “You'll be + plenty lonesome up there. You can get your wagon within half a mile. Pack + your truck on your hoss's back and lead him the rest of the way. That's + what I used to do. I was warden till I found myself trying to carry on + conversations with tumblebugs and whippoorwills.” + </p> + <p> + When Wagg had driven along far enough so that the native could not + overhear, he hailed Vaniman through the trap in the top of the van. + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that Devilbrow within grabbing distance of what we're after?” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman returned a hearty affirmative. He had been able to see those + craggy heights from his window in Britt Block. The thought that what he + wanted to grab and what Mr. Wagg wanted to grab were not exactly mated as + desired objects did not shade his candor when he asserted that Devilbrow + was just the place from which to operate. + </p> + <p> + “All right!” chirruped Wagg. “Us for it!” He displayed the first + cheeriness he had shown on the trip. He whistled for a time. Then he sang, + over and over, to a tune of his own, “Up above the world so high, like a + di'mond in the sky.” This display of Wagg's hopeful belief that the + fifty-fifty settlement was near at hand served to increase Vaniman's + despondency. + </p> + <p> + Obeying the native's instructions as to the route, Wagg soon turned off + the highway and drove along a rutted lane which whiplashed a slope that + continually became steeper. Soon he pulled up and told Vaniman to get out + and walk and ease the load on the horse. Wagg got down and walked, too. + </p> + <p> + The trail up Devilbrow was on the side away from the village of Egypt. The + way was through hard growth. There were no houses—no sign of a human + being. Wagg's cheerfulness increased. And he said something which put a + glimmer of cheer into Vaniman's dark ponderings. + </p> + <p> + “There's no call to hurry the thing overmuch. If I recuperate too sudden + and show up back home it might look funny, after the way I bellowed about + my condition. There's plenty of flour, bacon, and canned stuff in that + van. I reckon we'd better get our feet well settled here and make sure + that nobody is watching us; the money is safer in the hole than with us, + for the time being. My pay is going on and the future looks rosy.” + </p> + <p> + A cock partridge rose from the side of the lane and whirred away through + the beech leaves that the first frost of early autumn had yellowed. + </p> + <p> + “And I've got a shotgun and plenty of shells! Son, let's forget that we + have ever been in state prison. In the course of time that place is about + as wearing on a guard as it is on a convict.” + </p> + <p> + The log camp was behind a spur of the rocky summit and was hidden from the + village below. Wagg commented with satisfaction on the location when they + had reached the place. The van had been concealed in a ravine which led + from the lane. The work of loading the horse with the sacked supplies, and + the ascent of the mountain, had consumed hours. Twilight was sifting into + the valleys by the time they had unloaded the stuff and stabled the horse + in a lean-to. + </p> + <p> + There was a stove in the camp, and the place was furnished after a fashion + with chairs and a table fashioned from birch saplings. The blankets of + Wagg's camp equipment made the bunks comfortable. + </p> + <p> + Wagg had been the cook as well as the captain of the expedition. He did + better that evening with the wood-burning stove than he had done with the + oil stove of his kit. + </p> + <p> + After supper, before he turned in, Vaniman went out on a spur of Devilbrow + and gazed down on the scattered lights of the village of Egypt. As best he + could he determined the location of the Harnden house. He felt as + helplessly aloof as if he were a shade revisiting the scene of his mortal + experiences. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV + </h2> + <h3> + THE FIRST PEEP BEHIND THE CURTAIN + </h3> + <p> + The next day Wagg went out and shot two partridges and contrived a stew + which fully occupied his attention in the making and the eating. He had + suggested to Vaniman that he'd better come along on the expedition after + the birds. Vaniman found a bit more than mere suggestion in Wagg's manner + of invitation. With his shotgun in the hook of his arm he presented his + wonted appearance as the guard at the prison. It was perfectly apparent + that Mr. Wagg proposed to keep his eye on the promiser of the fifty-fifty + split. But Wagg did not refer to the matter of the money while they + strolled in the woods. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, days went by without the question coming up. + </p> + <p> + Wagg had previously praised himself as a patient waiter; the young man + confessed in his thoughts that his guardian merited the commendation. Wagg + was plainly having a particularly good time on this outing. He displayed + the contentment of a man who had ceased to worry about the future; he was + taking it easy, like a vacationer with plenty of money in the bank. On one + occasion he did mention the money in the course of a bit of philosophizing + on the situation: + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that, when you look at it straight, it's stealing, what I'm + doing. I've seen a lot of big gents pass through that state prison, + serving sentences for stealing. Embezzlement, forgery, crooked stock + dealing—it's all stealing. They were tempted. I've been tempted. + I've fell. I ain't an angel, any more than those big gents were. And you + know what I told you about mourners chirking up, after the first blow! I + figure it's the same way in the bank case. They have given up the idea of + getting the money back. They're still sad when they think about it, but + they keep thinking less and less every day. They've crossed it off, as you + might say.” + </p> + <p> + The two who were bound in that peculiar comradeship were out on the crag + where they could look down upon the distant checker board of the village. + Vaniman, in the stress of the circumstances, wondered whether he might be + able to come at Wagg on the sentimental side of his nature. + </p> + <p> + “The little town must have gone completely broke since the bank failure. + Innocent people are suffering. If that money could be returned—” + </p> + <p> + He did not finish the sentence. Mr. Wagg was most distinctly not + encouraging that line of talk. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Vaniman, when you got away with that money you had hardened + yourself up to the point where you were thinking of your own self first, + hadn't you?” + </p> + <p> + The young man did not dare to burst out with the truth—not while + Wagg was in the mood his expression hinted at. + </p> + <p> + Wagg continued: “Well, I've got myself to the point where I'm thinking of + my own self. I'm as hard as this rock I'm sitting on.” In his emphasis on + that assertion Wagg scarred his knuckles against the ledge. “After all the + work I've had in getting myself to that point, I'm proposing to stay + there. If you try to soften me I shall consider that you're welching on + your trade.” + </p> + <p> + Wagg made the declaration in loud tones. After all his years of + soft-shoeing and repression in a prison, the veteran guard was taking full + advantage of the wide expanses of the big outdoors. + </p> + <p> + “What did I do for you, Vaniman? I let you cash in on a play that I had + planned ever since the first barrow of dirt was dumped into that pit. + There's a lifer in that prison with rich relatives. I reckon they would + have come across with at least ten thousand dollars. There's a + manslaughter chap who owns four big apartment houses. But I picked you + because I could sympathize with you on account of your mother and that + girl the papers said so much about. It's a job that can't be done over + again, not even for the Apostle Peter. Now will you even hint at + welching?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not!” + </p> + <p> + But that affirmation did not come from Vaniman. It was made in his behalf + by a duet of voices, bass and nasal tenor, speaking loudly and confidently + behind the two men who were sitting on the ledge. + </p> + <p> + The younger man leaped to his feet and whirled; the older man struggled + partly upright and ground his knees on the ledge when he turned to inspect + the terrifying source of sound. + </p> + <p> + So far as Vaniman's recollection went, they were strangers. One was short + and dumpy, the other was tall and thin. They wore slouchy, wrinkled, cheap + suits. There was no hint of threat in their faces. On the contrary, both + of the men displayed expressions of mingled triumph and mischief. Then, as + if they had a mutual understanding in the matter of procedure, they went + through a sort of drill. They stuck their right arms straight out; they + crooked the arms at the elbows; they drove their hands at their hip + pockets and produced, each of them, a bulldog revolver; they snapped their + arms into position of quick aim. + </p> + <p> + Wagg threw up his hands and began to beg. Vaniman held himself under + better control. + </p> + <p> + But the men did not shoot. They returned the guns to their pockets and + saluted in military fashion, whacking their palms violently against their + thighs in finishing salute. + </p> + <p> + “Present!” they cried. Then the dumpy man grinned. Wagg had been goggling, + trying to resolve his wild incredulity into certainty. That grin settled + the thing for him. It was the same sort of a suggestive grin that he had + viewed on that day of days in the prison yard. + </p> + <p> + “Number Two-Eight-Two!” he quavered. + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing!” The dumpy man patted the tall man's arm. “Add one, and you + have Number Two-Eight-Three—a pal who drew the next number because + we're always in company.” + </p> + <p> + “And we're here because we're here,” stated the other. + </p> + <p> + The short man fixed his gaze on the ex-cashier. “You don't realize it yet, + but this is more of a reunion than it looks to be on the surface. You two + gents have seen how we're fixed in the gun line, and we hope the + understanding is going to make the party sociable.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be thinking that this is only another case of it being proved how + small the world is, after all,” remarked the tall man. “Not so! Not so! We + have followed you two because we have important business with you. We have + had a lot of trouble and effort in getting here. Bear that in mind, + please!” + </p> + <p> + The new arrivals were quite matter-of-fact and Wagg was helped to recover + some of his composure. “The two of you are three-year men—robbery in + the nighttime,” he declared, out of his official knowledge. “What in blue + blazes are you doing outside the pen?” + </p> + <p> + “Attending to the same business as you are—after a slice of the bank + coin,” replied the short man, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + Wagg got to his feet and banged his fists together. “Do you dare to walk + right up to a guard of the state prison and—and—” He balked in + his demand for information; Mr. Wagg was plainly afflicted with a few + uncomfortable considerations of his own situation. + </p> + <p> + “We do!” the convicts declared in concert. Then the dumpy man went on: + “And whatever else it is you're wondering whether we dare to do, we'll + inform that we dare. Once on a time we had occasion to express our opinion + of a bank. I wrote out that opinion and left it where it would be seen. + Not exactly Sunday-school language, but it hit the case.” He turned away + from Vaniman's frenzy of gasping interrogation. He confined his attention + to Wagg. “A prison guard, say you? You're a hell of a guard!” + </p> + <p> + “Opinion indorsed!” said the other convict. + </p> + <p> + For a few moments there was complete silence on the summit of Devilbrow. + Somewhere, on an upland farm in the distance, a cow mooed. Then a rooster + challenged all comers. + </p> + <p> + “That's the word, old top!” agreed the tall man. “It expresses my + feelings,” He clapped his hands against his legs and cried in his tenor, + imitating the singsong of the rooster, “We're here because we're + he-e-ere!” + </p> + <p> + Then he and his fellow sat down on a ledge outcropping that overtopped and + commanded the position of the other men. The convicts surveyed Vaniman and + Wagg with a complacent air of triumph. “Are you willing to take things as + they stand, or do you feel that you can't go ahead till your curiosity has + been scratched?” inquired the short man. + </p> + <p> + “Curiosity!” stormed the ex-cashier. “Do you dare to call the feeling I + have in me curiosity?” He thumped his fist against his breast. + </p> + <p> + “And how about my feelings, with escaped convicts racing and chasing all + over this country?” shouted the guard. “What has happened to that prison + since I've been off my job?” + </p> + <p> + “One at a time!” The dumpy man put up his hand to shut off the stream of + questions that were pouring from Wagg. “The young fellow has his innings + first. He has more good reasons for rearing and tearing. It's easy enough + to get out of a state prison when you have a trick that can be worked + once.” He winked at Wagg. Then he directed his remarks strictly at + Vaniman. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to talk free and open. We're all in the same boat. We're a + couple of pots, and both of you are kettles, all black. Now, listen! I'm + Bill.” He stuck his finger against his breast and then tagged with it his + pal at his side. “He's Tom. Bill and Tom have been humble and hard-working + yeggmen, never tackling anything bigger than country stores and farmers' + flivvers. Once on a time they were in a barn, tucked away waiting for + night, and they heard a man running a double shift of talk—beating + down the farmer on the price of cattle and blowing off about gold coin + hoarded by the bushel in a rube bank.” + </p> + <p> + Stickney's unruly mouth! Vaniman understood. “So, says Bill to Tom: 'Why + not go up like everything else is going up these days?' Says Tom to Bill: + 'I'm on.' We took our time about it, getting the lay of the land. We went + down to the big burg to buy drills and soup and pick up points on how to + crack a real nut. Equipment up to that time had been a glass cutter and a + jimmy for back windows and padlocks.” + </p> + <p> + He was humorously drawling his confession. He stopped talking and lighted + a cigarette. Impatience that was agony urged Vaniman, but he controlled + himself. Wagg did not venture to say anything. His thoughts were keeping + him busy; he was mentally galloping, trying to catch up with the new + situation. + </p> + <p> + “And let me tell you that when Bill and Tom got back up here, they had + colder feet than the weather accounted for. General headquarters, that + camp!” He jerked thumb gesture toward the log cabin. “It had been our + hang-out in times past when we operated in this section. Handy place! + Finally got up courage enough to go to the job. Fine night for it! + Deserted village. Peeked into Town Hall and saw the general round-up. + Light in the bank. Bill was boosted up by Tom and got a peek over the + curtain. One fellow inside adding figures—much taken up. Bank-vault + door wide open. Front door unlocked. Crawled in. Kept crawling. Crawled + into bank room. Grille door wide open. Bill up and hit fellow with rubber + nob-knocker—it snuffs, but is not dangerous. Tom is handy by with + the chloroform—always carried it for our second-story work.” + </p> + <p> + The young man began to stride to and fro, striving by using his legs to + keep from using his tongue. + </p> + <p> + The narrator snapped the ash off his cigarette. “Bill and Tom looked at + each other. Did they expect such easy picking? They did not. The stuff had + been fairly handed to 'em. They dragged the stuff out—all the sacks + of it. Transportation all planned on. Couple of handsleds such as we had + seen leaning up against the houses in the village. Slipped the fellow into + the vault with his hands tied and shut the door with a trig so that he + couldn't kick it open right away. Idea was that anybody stepping in later + would think he had gone home; we intended to put out the light; nothing + desperate about us; we wouldn't shoot the bolts. Bill said to Tom that + there'd be a hunt for the fellow when he failed to show up at home, + wherever he lived, and he'd sure be pulled out of the vault in good + season. Thoughtful, you see! Not bloody villains. Simply wanted time for + our getaway. Slow pulling up this hill with handsleds! But we slit a bag + to make sure of what we would be pulling. And we kept on slitting bags. + And—” the short man shook his head and sighed. “You say it, Tom. I'm + trying to be sociable in this talk with these gents—showing a full + and free spirit in coming across with the facts. But I don't trust + myself!” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I!” declared Tom. “We'd better not spoil a pleasant party.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Bill wrote his sentiments, as they occurred to him at the time. + Then we heard somebody hollering at the front door that we had left open. + We ran and jumped behind the door of the bank office. The fellow who + galloped in ran a few times in circles and then he galloped out. He might + have noticed a rhinoceros if the rhino had risen up and bit him. But he + paid no attention to Bill and Tom behind the door. And Bill and Tom walked + out. And we managed to get clear of the village just as that Town Hall + crowd broke loose. + </p> + <p> + “Says Bill to Tom, when they were on their way: 'It's plain that banks are + bunk, like everything else these days. Let's stick to our humble line + where we know what we're doing.' But, having been studying bank robbing, + we had got ourselves nerved up to take desperate chances—and we + bulled the regular game in Levant. Coarse work, because we were off our + stride. All due to the bank. The bank stands liable for damages. We're up + here collecting. Cashier, consider what regular and desperate cracksmen + would have done to you! Considering our carefulness where you were + concerned, and the trouble we have been put to in getting out and chasing + you, what say?” + </p> + <p> + Again Vaniman got a strong grip on his emotions. He was a fugitive; these + cheeky rascals had his fate in their hands; he was not in a position to + reply to their effrontery as his wild desire urged. He did not dare to + open his mouth just then with any sort of reply; he did not trust himself + even to look their way. + </p> + <p> + “Think it over,” advised the short man, composedly. “But please take note + that there are now four of us in on the split, and that quartering it + makes easy figuring.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wagg was not composed. This threat to disrupt his fifty-fifty plan + brought him out of something that was like stupor. “You belong back in + state prison, and I'll see to it that you're put there.” + </p> + <p> + The man who called himself Bill was not ruffled. He waved his arm to + indicate the spread of the landscape. “Doesn't being up here above the + world lift you out of the rut of petty revenge? Can't you see things in a + broader way? I can. I feel like praising you for that job you put up to + get our valuable friend out where he can help all four of us. For many a + day, after I saw that you had this friend out in the yard and were + interested in him, I tended less to making harness pads and more to + watching you through the shop window. I was interested in the gent, too. + Tom and I had made up our minds to be as patient as possible for seven + years—and then be rusticating up in these hills, right on hand to + help him in the chore of digging it out of whatever hole it's hidden in. + Couldn't let you monopolize him—absolutely not, Mr. Guard! Do you + think I was hiding out that noon only by luck and chance? No, no! I saw + you monkeying with the chimney door that forenoon. I saw how you were + hopping around and I got a good look at your face. Says I to myself, Tom + not being handy, 'There's something to be pulled off, and I'll make sure + how it is pulled.' That's how I happened to be on the business side of + that shield, Mr. Guard. It was good work. It leaves our friend pretty + comfortable, so far as the dicks are concerned. Tom and I have got to keep + dodging 'em. We didn't have your advantages, you know—Tom and I + didn't! We simply did the best we could in getting out—realizing the + value of time.” + </p> + <p> + The short man was employing a patronizing tone, as if accomplishing an + escape from state prison was merely a matter of election of methods. All + of the guard's official pride was in arms. He advanced on the convict and + shook a finger under his nose. “How did you get out? You don't dare to + tell me. It was an accident. You didn't use any brains. You don't dare to + tell, I say!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, I do!” The convict was placid. “I'll tell you because you'll + never dare to open your mouth on the matter. Furthermore, you've got to + understand the position Tom and I are in right now in regard to a third + party. That party is a trusty—he gets out in three months from now + and has been having the run of the corridors as a repair man.” + </p> + <p> + Wagg growled something. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, he will!” asseverated the convict. “He'll come out on time! A + fine show of yourself you'll make trying to dutch him. The pen is mightier + than the sword, but inside a prison pen the little screw driver has 'em + all faded when a trusty is the repair man. Cell door, tier door, attic + door—all attended to; ventilator grating likewise. Rope in + ventilator, up rope—out goes rope and down rope! Roof, wall, drop! + Rear window of second-hand shop. Outfit! Hike! Good start, till morning + shows the cot dummies! Truss rods of Wagner freight, blind baggage to + Levant on the 'tween-days train. Into the bush—and here!” + </p> + <p> + “With this added by me,” put in the other convict. “That trusty was a pal + in the old days. He understands his friends' financial interest is in this + thing, and how we needed to get out sudden to tend to that interest. We + have given him our word. He took that word like it was a certified check. + And he's going to cash in on that word!” + </p> + <p> + “He sure is!” declared the short man. “We pass words instead of checks in + our business, and a man who lets his promise go to protest is crabbed for + keeps. We have incurred obligations so as to get in at the split.” He + spread out his palm and tapped a digit into the center of it. “Cash—here!” + </p> + <p> + “Strictly on a business basis, of course,” said the tall man. “We don't + call for a special split for that trusty. It's a personal debt incurred by + Bill and me. We ask nobody to pay our personal debts. All we ask is that + debts due us be paid. And we're drawing a sight draft on you gents. Bill + and I are probably only a few jumps ahead of the dicks. Where's the coin?” + </p> + <p> + He brutally thrust the question at Vaniman. The young man turned to Wagg, + seeking support in that crisis, believing that the affair could be held on + the basis of two against two in the interests of further dilatory tactics. + Wagg had been showing indignant protest against the demands of the + interlopers. But his corrugated face was smoothed suddenly. He had + evidently decided to cash in on the new basis. “That's what I want to know—and + what I have been trying to find out. Where's the coin?” + </p> + <p> + The realignment—three against one—was menacing. Vaniman + surveyed the faces—the glowering demanding countenances, the eyes in + which money lust gleamed. He knew that the men were in a mood where the + truth would serve him in sad stead. He had no knack as a liar. He + understood how little chance he had of convincing those shrewd knaves by + his inept falsehoods in that extremity. He had already meditated on the + plan of running away from Wagg. His reasons for escaping from this + intolerable baiting were now threefold. + </p> + <p> + “It's too near sunset for a job that will take us a long way through the + woods,” he blurted. + </p> + <p> + “I'll admit I'm so tired I can't count money till I've had a night's + sleep,” confessed the short man. “But you make your promise now and here, + Mr. Cashier. When?” He emphasized the last word. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + “A promissory note—dated and delivered. Don't let it go to protest. + That's language you can understand, Mr. Bankman.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman walked off toward the cabin and the three men followed him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI + </h2> + <h3> + THE SHOW-DOWN + </h3> + <p> + His troubles and his trials had not wholly dulled youth's sense of the + ludicrous in Vaniman. He sat down that evening to the meal that had been + prepared by Guard Wagg, late of the state prison, for three fugitive + convicts, also late of that institution. The chimney of the kerosene lamp + was smoky and the light was dim, therefore Vaniman's grin was hidden from + his companions. Undoubtedly it would have produced no especial wonderment + in them if they had noted his cheerful visage. They were decidedly + cheerful, themselves. Mr. Wagg was no longer exhibiting the official side + of his nature; he was receiving compliments on his biscuits. The three who + had aligned themselves against Vaniman seemed to be getting along in a + very friendly fashion, being bound by a common interest. + </p> + <p> + From biscuits in hand the conversation passed to the prison fare in + retrospect. Wagg admitted that the fare was a disgrace to the state. From + that point it was easy to go on and agree with the short man and the tall + man that the prison was mismanaged generally and that a man was lucky in + being able to get away from such a place—no matter whether he was a + guard or a prisoner. The incongruous friendliness increased Vaniman's + amusement. + </p> + <p> + He looked at the two knaves who had recently enlightened their victim in + such a matter-of-fact manner. He admitted that the comedy overbalanced the + tragedy, in view of the fact that the job had resolved itself into petty + sneak-thievery. Taking into consideration the trick money they had found, + there was considerable farce in the affair. However, Vaniman, looking + ahead to the threatening to-morrow, perceived tragedy looming again. + </p> + <p> + Victim, criminals, guard of the criminals, they were breaking bread in a + temporary comradeship of a bizarre nature—a money quest. But that + money interest which bound them of an evening would be a disastrous + problem on the morrow, if one man attempted to stand out against three. + </p> + <p> + The one man made up his mind that there was a risky resource for him—to + flee and take his chances alone in the woods; he had decided to put his + own personal interpretation on the promise, “To-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + Right after supper he turned into his bunk, in order to simulate slumber + and avoid the questions that he could not answer. + </p> + <p> + The two new arrivals had had much to say about their weariness. He + expected that they would promptly eliminate themselves as obstacles to + flight. Mr. Wagg, at any rate, had shown a confiding disposition all + along. + </p> + <p> + But the tall man and the short man conferred <i>sotto voce</i> and let it + be known that they had suspended payment of confidence currency for the + time being. + </p> + <p> + “The idea is,” explained the short man, “this being a pleasant party, and + all interests being common, it would be a shame to have it broken up. Tom + will sit there in the door for two hours—then he wakes me and I sit + there. We're not accusing anybody inside of wanting to leave; but who is + sure that somebody from the outside may not stroll along and want to come + in? Seeing that we went down to the pen from Levant, it may be thought—providing + they do any thinking at the state prison—that we have come back here + to start in where we left off. On the other hand, providing they don't do + any thinking, they may come up into this section because a reasoning man + never would believe we'd take chances by coming back into an old stamping + ground. Either way it's looked at, we've got to be careful. Therefore, we + hope that gents of a pleasant party will consider this double-shift + arrangement as being for the general good of all hands.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wagg was pleased. He said so unhesitatingly, but not tactfully. He + declared that he would mortally hate to be surprised keeping the company + he was in. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman was able to stay awake through most of the two watches. But the + short man on sentry go was more vigilant than the tall man had been; two + hours of sleep and the keen hope for the morrow conspired to keep the + guard alert. In despair the young man loosed his hold on the hateful + verities and slipped into slumber. + </p> + <p> + He was suddenly awakened by a pinching grip on his arm. He opened his eyes + upon broad day and upon the face of the tall man. He was aware that the + short man was shaking Wagg awake in the next bunk. “Two men coming up the + side of the mountain; got a slant at 'em through the trees; they're after + us!” + </p> + <p> + “Sho!” demurred Wagg. “They're only bird hunters.” + </p> + <p> + “We're taking no chances on 'em being jailbird hunters! Are there any + holes here in the rocks?” + </p> + <p> + “Plenty,” stated Wagg. “And the three of you better hunt them holes, no + matter who is coming.” + </p> + <p> + The short man, the tall man, and Vaniman needed no urging on that point. + They ran, crouching low, and scrambled out of sight among the ledges of + the craggy peak of Devilbrow. + </p> + <p> + Wagg lighted his pipe and went out and sat on the bench beside the camp's + door, and when the two early visitors came puffing up the hill and + confronted him he was to all appearances enjoying the delights of a bland + fall morning and the comfort of an unruffled conscience. He jumped to his + feet and hailed one of the men with a great show of cordiality; the man + was one of the deputy wardens of the state prison. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wagg hopefully and guilelessly expressed the conviction that the + officer had followed along into the wilderness in order to join in the + process of recuperation. + </p> + <p> + The deputy asserted that Mr. Wagg was wrong to the extent of a damsite, or + something of the sort, and reported some recent happenings at the state + prison, Mr. Wagg listening with appropriate, shocked, official concern. He + opined that it was a long shot, figuring that the convicts had fled back + to the region of Levant. The warden agreed. “But the Old Man is bound to + have us tip over every flat rock, Bart. He got a call-down for that + accident—and this matter on top of it has made him sore. I'm up here + this far because I got a line on you at Levant.” + </p> + <p> + “You did, hey?” Mr. Wagg gazed off across the landscape, as if wondering + how much of a trail he had left. + </p> + <p> + “You dropped 'recuperates' like a molting rooster drops feathers, Bart,” + averred the warden, jocosely. “That was my trail. Reckoned I'd come and + tip you off so that you can do a little scouting for the good cause.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wagg threw out his chest. “You can leave this hill section to me. + Always on the job! That's my motto.” + </p> + <p> + The deputy said he knew that, stated that he would probably spend a week + along the highways and in the villages of the section, got a drink of + water from a spring near at hand, and departed with his aide. + </p> + <p> + And after the two were far down the slope, Mr. Wagg called in his + campmates with the caution of a hen partridge assembling the brood after + the hunter has passed. “It means that we've got to stick close by this + camp and mind our business for a week, at any rate,” he said, after he had + reported the conversation. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman could not keep the complacency out of his countenance. He caught + the short man squinting at him with a peculiar expression. “It would be + mighty dangerous for any one of us to go far from this camp,” said the + young man. + </p> + <p> + “It sure would!” agreed the convict, sententiously. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman was promptly conscious that his innocent air had not been + convincing. + </p> + <p> + He became more fully aware of that fact when the tall man and the short + man resumed guard duty that night, turn about. It was plain that they + proposed to hang grimly to the token in their possession until the token + could be cashed in for the coin. + </p> + <p> + The confinement behind prison bars had tested Vaniman's powers of + endurance; this everlasting espionage by the men who had set themselves + over him tried him still more bitterly. They lacked the sanction of the + law which even an innocent man respects while he chafes. While that + situation continued he was prevented from taking any step toward clearing + up his tangled affairs. He could look down on the roofs of the village of + Egypt and meditate savagely—and that was all. Vona had apprised him + of Britt's plans regarding a mansion. He could see that structure was + taking shape rapidly. Men swarmed over it like bees over a hive. He did + not doubt the loyalty of the girl. But he was left to wonder how long her + loyalty to the memory of a dead man would endure. + </p> + <p> + Day by day, through dragging hours, he suffered from the agonizing + monotony of the camp. But the future offered only a somber prospect. After + this respite in the insistence of the treasure seekers, he could expect + only ugly determination when they dared to make a move in the matter. They + had plenty of leisure for talk. They were already spending that money! + Wagg was even more impatient than the others. + </p> + <p> + Though Vaniman had been cruelly tortured by thoughts of the injustice that + had been visited on him, by his reflections that the Egyptians had shown + him no consideration, he had nursed the hope that he might contrive to + give them back their money after he had dragged from Britt the truth. + </p> + <p> + But at last, in his new spirit of loneliness, in the consciousness that no + man's hand was offered to him in the way of help, he entered upon a new + phase of resolution. He had gone into prison with youth's ingenuous belief + that the truth would prevail. He had permitted a lie to aid in prying his + way out, and now he was paltering with evasions and making no progress + except toward more dangerous involvement. One afternoon sudden fury swept + the props out from under caution. + </p> + <p> + He leaped up from the rock on which he had been sitting, pondering, the + rumble of the conspirators' conversation serving as obbligato for the cry + his soul was uttering. He was between them and the sunset sky. + </p> + <p> + “The truth!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + The three men peered at him, shading their eyes. He seemed to tower with + heroic stature. He came at them, shaking his fists over his head. + </p> + <p> + “You are thieves and renegades. I don't believe you know the truth when + you hear it. But you're going to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + He tackled Wagg first. He set the grip of both of his hands into the slack + of the shoulders of the amazed guard's coat and yanked Wagg to his feet + and shouted, with his nose barely an inch from Wagg's face, “I told you + the truth at first. I said I didn't know where the money was. You gave me + a chance to get out by a lie. I'm human. I took the chance.” + </p> + <p> + He threw Wagg from him with a force that sent the man staggering; the + guard stumbled over a rock and fell on his back. + </p> + <p> + He turned on the convicts. By his set-to with Wagg he had gained their + full attention. “You low-lived scoundrels, do you know an honest man when + you lay eyes on him? I declare that I am one. Dispute me, and I'll knock + your teeth down your throats—guns or no guns. I don't know where the + money is. I never touched that money. I didn't know what was in those + sacks. If you were decent men, with any conception of an oath before God, + I'd swear to the truth of what I say. I won't lower myself to make oath! I + make the statement. And now let some of you—or all three of you—stand + up in front of me and tell me that I'm lying. Come on! It's an open + field!” + </p> + <p> + They did not stand up. Wagg merely sat up. + </p> + <p> + “Say something! Some one of you! Say something!” pleaded Vaniman through + his set teeth. + </p> + <p> + The convicts kept their sitting. Vaniman went on adjuring them to stand up + and say something. They showed no resentment when he called them names, + and they indicated no relish for battle. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on a minute!” pleaded the short man. “You seem to have your mind + well made up as to what we'd better not say. I may have to eat + state-prison grub again, and I'll need my teeth. Won't you kindly drop a + hint as to what would suit you in the line of talk?” + </p> + <p> + “You can tell me whether you think I'm handing you the truth or not.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are,” agreed Bill, readily. + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” asserted Tom. + </p> + <p> + “How about you, Wagg?” Vaniman demanded, resolved on clearing the matter + up once for all. + </p> + <p> + But the lethargic Mr. Wagg was manifestly unable to turn his slow wits on + the single track of the mind and start them off in the opposite direction. + </p> + <p> + “No matter about him now,” said the short man. “Give his mind time. A + toadstool grows fast after it gets started.” + </p> + <p> + This meek surrender helped Vaniman to regain his poise. “If you're willing + to take the truth from me, men, I'll meet you halfway. You have been frank + and open with me. Men who pretend to be better than you, they have lied to + me and about me. That's why I was sent to state prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Tom and I couldn't do business like we do if we lied to folks of our + kind. Didn't we cash in our word to the trusty? Being in the hole, as you + are right now, you'll excuse me for saying that we consider you one of our + kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” returned the young man, accepting that statement at face + value. + </p> + <p> + The short man lighted a cigarette and pondered for a few moments. “You + didn't take the money. Tom and I believe what you say. Wagg will catch up + with the procession later. All right, Vaniman! But seeing how anxious you + were to get out and up here, it's likely that you have a pretty good idea + as to who did take the money. If you need any help in squaring yourself, + I'll call your attention to the fact that here are a couple of gents who + have a little spare time on their hands.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman was then in no mood to balance the rights and the wrongs of the + case. “I have started in on the basis of the whole truth, and I'm coming + through, men. I'm following your lead. I was framed in that bank matter. + There was a man who had the opportunity to exchange junk for that gold. He + made that opportunity for himself by working on my good nature. The man is + Tasper Britt, who was the president of that bank. He took the money. He + knows where it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he is the only one who knows?” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally, he wouldn't be passing the word around.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a bank man—you had the run of the premises—you had a + chance to know the general style of his ways! What do you guess he did + with it?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sticking to the truth—and what I actually know. I'm not + guessing.” + </p> + <p> + “Not even when you say he took the money?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't see him take it. But he had a private entrance to the vault. + Everybody was so determined to plaster the guilt on to me that no move was + made against Britt on account of that back door of his. I was railroaded + by perjurers—and Britt was the captain of 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a corner on 'most everything these days, but it's really too bad + for a man like Britt to have a corner on so much valuable knowledge,” + sighed the short man. + </p> + <p> + And the tall man sighed and agreed. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wagg was catching up. With the appearance of a man who had been + running and was out of breath he panted, “What's—what's gong to be + done about it?” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman made no suggestions. Having cut the knot of his own entanglement + where these men were concerned, he felt no spirit of alacrity about + inviting them farther into his personal affairs; he realized that he had + merely shifted the course of their dogged pursuit of that money. In spite + of his feelings toward Britt, he was dreading what might come from the + disclosures he had just made. He had reason to distrust the tactics such + men might employ. His relief arising from the show-down was tinged with + regret; he was still sorry for the innocent losers in Egypt. To employ two + escaped convicts and a recreant prison guard in his efforts to prevail on + Britt and secure the rights due an innocent man promised to involve him + more wretchedly. + </p> + <p> + “Vaniman, suppose you take command and give off your orders,” said the + short man. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't any sensible plans. I admit that. I have been so pestered and + wrought up by the everlasting bullyragging about the devilish money that I + haven't had a chance to figure out a way of getting at the man who has + ruined me,” Vaniman complained. He strode to and fro, snapping his + fingers, revealing his sense of helplessness. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we sleep on the thing—the whole four of us,” suggested the + short man. “I said sleep, please note! This general show-down has cleared + the air up here a whole lot, I'll say! And Wagg has steered away the + dicks! They won't be strolling in, and till we have settled on a plan I'm + sure nobody will feel like strolling out. The night watch is disbanded.” + </p> + <p> + He marched off toward the camp. The others trailed on behind him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII + </h2> + <h3> + THE STIR OF THE YEAST + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Delmont Bangs was naturally of an observant nature. While he was in + Egypt he was keeping his eyes particularly wide open. He was looking for + two men wanted by the state. Mr. Bangs was the deputy warden who had gone + up to the summit of Devilbrow in order to view the landscape o'er and pass + the word to Mr. Wagg. Mr. Bangs rode along every highway and byway, day + after day, not missing a trick. He was not especially sanguine in regard + to locating the missing convicts in that section, but he was obeying the + warden's orders; after a day or so he was also obeying an impulse to + satisfy his curiosity in lines quite apart from his official quest. + </p> + <p> + He spent his nights at Files's tavern and grabbed his meals wherever he + happened to be. + </p> + <p> + But after a time he found that housewives were unwilling to give him + anything to eat. He was sure that they had not soured on him because he + was a state catchpole. When he first arrived in town and gave out the news + of his mission and issued a general call for tips he was welcomed heartily + by everybody; the women, especially, hoped that he would find the villains + and put them where they could not threaten unprotected females. Mr. Bangs + had not been able to spend his money for food at farmhouses; the women + would not accept any pay, and gave him their best. + </p> + <p> + However all at once they could not be induced to give food or even to sell + it. They acted as if they did not care to be bothered; some of them + declared that they were too busy to do cooking. They would not allow Mr. + Bangs to stick his nose into their houses; they snapped refusal at him + from behind doors only partially opened and foot-braced. + </p> + <p> + Men with whom Bangs conversed wore an air of abstraction. They plainly + were not interested in Mr. Bangs or in the convicts whom he was pursuing. + He tackled them on all sorts of subjects, hoping to hit on the topic which + was absorbing so much of their attention. He went so far as to ask them + bluntly what they were carrying on their minds besides hair. Those who + were not surly looked scared. + </p> + <p> + Even the barn doors were no longer frankly open. There was a mysterious + sort of subsurface stir everywhere. There was expectancy that was ill + disguised. Mr. Bangs, a stranger, perceived that strangers, for some + unexplained reason, had ceased to be popular in Egypt. One day a man + gruffly told him that detectives would do well to go off and do their + detecting in some other place. That was pretty blunt, and Mr. Bangs + informed his helper that he, personally, had had about enough of the + gummed-up, infernal town. He declared that he was going to leave. Mr. + Bangs was more certain about his departure when he arrived back at Files's + tavern that evening. Mr. Files informed him that there would be no more + accommodations at the tavern after that night. Mr. Files, questioned, + refused to say whether he intended to close the tavern or was merely going + away; he would reveal nothing about his further plans. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs went out and sat on the porch bench with his helper, and + irefully asked that bewildered person what the ding-dong the matter was + with the dad-fired town, anyway? + </p> + <p> + In default of specific knowledge the aide tried to be humorous. He told + Mr. Bangs that it looked as if the hive was getting ready to swarm. His + facetiousness fell flat; Mr. Bangs scowled. The helper became serious. + </p> + <p> + “I've been watching the old hystrampus they call the Prophet. Everywhere + we've been the past few days, he seems to be just coming or just going. + Noticed him, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I've noticed him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what his religious persuasion is, because he hasn't done any + talking where I could overhear him. But he seems to be getting busier all + the time. Do you know what he preaches?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm working for the state prison, not the state insane asylum.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” drawled the other, “though I don't know what he's preaching, the + general fussed-up condition here in this town reminds me of what happened + in Carmel when I lived there as a boy. One of them go-upper preachers + struck town. He finally got most of our neighbors into a state of whee-ho + where the womenfolks made ascension robes for all concerned and the + menfolks built a high platform and they all climbed up on it and waited + all one night for Gabr'el's trump to sound.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that got to do with this town?” demanded Mr. Bangs, impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Why, considering how near busted the town is—and all the timber cut + off and the farms run out—I wouldn't wonder a mite if the right kind + of a preacher could get 'em into a frame of mind where they'd be willing + to start for anywhere—even straight down, provided they couldn't + arrange matters so as to go straight up, like the Carmel folks planned on. + Not as how I say that these folks are going to get up and hump it out of + Egypt! But there's a whole lot of restle-ness in 'em! That's plain enough + to be seen!” + </p> + <p> + “If there's half as much of it in 'em as there is in me, right now, + they'll all follow me when I drive out of town in the morning,” declared + Mr. Bangs. “And what that king pin, name o' Britt, is building that palace + over there for is beyond my guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Expects to grab off the girl of the Vaniman case,” said the aide, who had + put himself in the way of hearing all the local gossip. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs lighted a fresh cigar. “Say, I'd like to find out whether this + stir here is a go-upper proposition. I'd join the party and go up, too, if + I thought I could locate that cashier and find out where he hid that mess + of gold.” + </p> + <p> + “Try the ouija board,” giggled the aide. + </p> + <p> + However, in his desperate desire for information in general Mr. Bangs + proceeded to try something which suited better his practical turn of mind. + </p> + <p> + He hailed Prophet Elias, who had appeared in the open door of Usial + Britt's shop. The gloom of the autumn evening was deepened by vapor which + came drifting from the lowlands after the night air had chilled the + moisture evoked by the sun from the soil. The open door set a patch of + radiance on the dun robe of the dusk. The light spread upon the vapor, was + diffused in it, furnished an aura of soft glow in the center of which + stood the robed figure. + </p> + <p> + Deputy Bangs's first hail, when Elias opened the door and stood revealed, + was contemptuously brusque; he used the tone he commonly employed toward + his charges in prison; he perceived at first only the queer old chap, the + dusty plodder of the highways, the man of cracked wits. Bangs spoke as an + officer, peremptorily: “Say, you! Come over here. I want to talk with + you!” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet made no move, either with his feet or his tongue. In the haze + that lay between him and Bangs, the man of the robe seemed to tower and to + take on a mystic dignity which had been lacking in the candid light of + day. After the silence had continued for some time Bangs spoke again. His + new manner showed that his eyes had been reprimanding his tongue. “Excuse + me! I didn't mean to sound short. But would you kindly step across here? + Or”—the eyes certainly had shamed the tongue and had humbled it—“or + I'll come over there, if you'd rather have it that way.” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet strode along the misty path of light and stood in the middle + of the road. “Talk—but I must ask you to talk to the point and in + few words. I have no time to waste on gossip.” + </p> + <p> + “All right! Few words it is! What's the matter with this town all of a + sudden?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask Pharaoh. The kingdom is his.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't get you!” + </p> + <p> + The deputy's helper pulled his chief's sleeve and hissed some rapid words + of explanation, more fruit gathered from local gossip. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, so that's what you call him? However, I'm asking you. You ought to + know. I've seen you all over the lot, talking with everybody.” + </p> + <p> + “Ask Pharaoh!” repeated the Prophet, sonorously. + </p> + <p> + The helper nudged Bangs with a swift punch. “If you feel like taking that + advice, boss, here's your chance. There's Tasper Britt.” + </p> + <p> + The magnate of Egypt was revealed suddenly, coming from the direction of + his new mansion. He strode past Elias. “Ask Pharaoh!” advised the Prophet + once more, and Britt halted. He came back a few steps and addressed the + men on the tavern porch: + </p> + <p> + “Can't a man who is deputy warden of our state prison find something for + amusement better than stirring up a lunatic?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not trying to find amusement—not in this town,” returned Mr. + Bangs. “I'm after information. He refers me to you—or so I take it!” + </p> + <p> + “What information?” + </p> + <p> + “There's something the trouble in this town and I'd like to know what it + is.” + </p> + <p> + “There it is,” barked Britt, pointing to Elias. “That's the principal + trouble—a lunatic spreading lunacy like smallpox.” + </p> + <p> + “But what is it all about?” insisted Bangs, “What's this new excitement?” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing about any excitement, sir. I attend to business instead of + gossip. If you can make it your business to take this pest to state + prison, where he probably belongs if his record could be dug up, the town + of Egypt will be all right again.” + </p> + <p> + “Pharaoh, I have a message of comfort for you,” stated the Prophet. “This + night do I depart from the land of Egypt. I go and I shall not return.” + </p> + <p> + For some moments Britt did not find words with which to reply. Then he + mumbled something about good riddance and shaking the dust from the feet. + </p> + <p> + “I shall shake all the dust from my feet this side of the border line,” + said Elias. “Your land of Egypt cannot spare any soil.” + </p> + <p> + “You are getting away just in time,” rasped the usurer. “I have been + tolerating you since you got back from jail because I've been too busy to + tend to your case.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” commented Elias, mildly. + </p> + <p> + This subtle humility goaded Britt's wrath more effectually than the + Prophet could have prevailed with resentful retort. + </p> + <p> + “The next time it wouldn't have been a bailable trespass case. Do you dare + to tell me why you kept looking in at the windows of my house?” + </p> + <p> + “I was looking for the closet.” + </p> + <p> + “What closet?” + </p> + <p> + “For the closet where you keep the skeleton. But rest this night in peace, + Pharaoh. I am going away.” + </p> + <p> + “I can sleep better for knowing that you are out of this town.” + </p> + <p> + “Then promise me that you will sleep to-night—sleep soundly. That + thought will cheer me as I go on my way.” Britt started along, making no + reply. “I bespeak for you sleep without dreams,” the Prophet called after + him. “Your dreams, Pharaoh, might be colored with some of the realities—and + that would be bad, very bad for your peace of mind.” + </p> + <p> + Once more Britt strode back from the vapors. “Are you trying to provoke me + to smash my fist into your face? Are you trying to cook up a blackmail + damage suit by the advice of that crook lawyer who bailed you out? I'm + beginning to see why a lawyer was enough interested in you to get you back + into this town.” + </p> + <p> + “You guess shrewdly, Pharaoh. You have avoided the deep plot against your + wealth. Let the thought make you sleep soundly to-night. I'm glad to make + my confession and hope it will add to your peace of mind.” + </p> + <p> + Usial Britt had appeared in the door of his cottage; he leaned lazily + against the jamb. “It will be a fine night for sleeping,” he remarked, + amiably. “This fog is sort of relaxing to the nerves!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold one moment, Pharaoh!” pleaded Elias. The appearance of the hated + brother had started the magnate off once more. “I am anxious to make your + night a peaceful one. If you see me go away, knowing that I shall not + return again before your face, the comfort of your knowledge will lull you + to sleep. Wait!” + </p> + <p> + He stepped to the door of the cottage, reached inside, and secured a long + staff. He picked up from the floor a huge horn—a sort of trump. He + settled the curve of the instrument over his shoulder. He blew a long and + resounding blast. Then he marched away, taking long strides. He loomed in + the first stratum of the vapor, the radiance from the open door showing + him as an eerie figure; then the fog swallowed him up. Every few moments + he sounded a mighty blast on the trump. The blare of the horn rolled + echoes afar in the murk. Steadily the volume of the sound decreased; it + was plain that the Prophet was traveling at good speed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be dimdaddled!” grunted Mr. Bangs. His was the only comment on + the departure of Prophet Elias from the land of Egypt—that is to + say, the only comment passed by the group in front of Files's tavern. + Tasper Britt went his way toward the Harnden home, his lodgings still. + Usial Britt closed his cottage door. Bangs found the sticky chill of the + fog uncomfortable. He and his helper went in and upstairs to their rooms. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE SHADE WHO MEDDLED + </h3> + <p> + Sometime in the night Vaniman awoke, not suddenly, or with the sense of + having been disturbed, but torpidly, with the feeling that he had been + especially deep in slumber. He recovered his senses slowly. Therefore, + only gradually did he become aware of a peculiar new condition of affairs + in the camp. He wondered idly, trying to make up his mind as to what was + different in the place this night. He heard the “yeak-yeak” of the + crickets outside. He heard nothing else. Then he understood. His three + comrades were not vocalizing their slumber in snores. He had endured the + torture philosophically night after night. + </p> + <p> + His surprise awakened him fully. He listened, but he could not hear the + sound of breathing. He rolled out of his bunk and investigated. The light + in the camp was merely the reflection of the paler hue of the night + outside, filtering through the open door and the single window. But he + perceived that he was alone in the place—the bunks were empty. + </p> + <p> + His primitive life in the camp had inured him to new habits; he had been + removing only his shoes and his coat when he went to bed. He pulled on his + shoes—he did not bother with coat or hat. He rushed out of doors and + called aloud, hoping that his panic was exaggerating his apprehensions. + There was no answer. + </p> + <p> + Then his fears took definite shape and sought for confirmation. He ran to + the horse hovel. The animal was gone. + </p> + <p> + Standing there, bitterly conscious of what had happened and acutely aware + of what was likely to happen with those three miscreants on the trail of + the treasure that they coveted, Vaniman accepted his full measure of + responsibility. He did not excuse the passion which had prompted him to + open his heart in regard to Tasper Britt. It was plain that they intended + to unlock the secret of the money by the use of Britt, going to any + lengths of brutality the occasion might demand. To get at Britt they would + be obliged to invade the Harnden home. The thought of what might develop + from that sortie wrought havoc in Vaniman's soul! His fears for Vona and + her mother spurred him to action even more effectively than his conviction + that his own cause was lost if the men were able to force the money from + Britt. If they were captured it would be like them to incriminate Vaniman + as an accomplice; if they got safely away with the treasure there could be + no revelations regarding Britt's complicity in its concealment. Britt + certainly would not tell the truth about what had happened to him; the + fugitives would hide their secret and their plunder. + </p> + <p> + If ever a victim of devilish circumstances had a compelling reason to play + the game, single-handed and to the full limit of desperation, so Vaniman + told himself, he was the man. + </p> + <p> + He ran from the hovel to the peak of the crag that overlooked the village + of Egypt. He beheld below him a vast expanse of grayish white, the fleecy + sea of the enshrouding vapor. He heard no sounds, he saw no lights. He had + no notion of the hour. Wagg had accommodated him with the time of day, + when he asked for it, just as Wagg loaned him a razor and doled his + rations, persistently and with cunning malice working to subdue the young + man's sense of independence. + </p> + <p> + But in this crisis all of Vaniman's courage broke from the thralls in + which prison intimidation and a fugitive's caution and despair had bound + it during the months of his disgrace. + </p> + <p> + No matter how long the others had been on their way! They would be obliged + to go the long route around the hill, and were hampered by the van; their + grim forethought in taking the vehicle to transport their booty, as if + they were sure of succeeding, was another element that wrought upon + Vaniman's temper. + </p> + <p> + As he was, without coat or hat, he leaped from the crag, as if he were + trying to jump squarely into the middle of the village of Egypt. He had + taken no thought of the steepness of the slope or the dangers of descent. + He slipped and rolled for many rods and a rain of rocks and earth followed + him and beat upon him when he caught a tree and clung to it. He went on + more cautiously after that; blood trickled from the wounds on his face + where the sharp edges of rocks had cut. He thrust himself through the + scrub growth, opening a way with the motions of a swimmer, his hands + scarred by the tangled branches. There were other steep places that were + broken by terraces. When he was down from the rocky heights on which the + vapor did not extend and had entered the confusing mists, he was obliged + to go more slowly still, for he narrowly missed some nasty falls. + </p> + <p> + Fierce impatience roweled him. He would not allow himself to weaken his + determination by thinking on what he would do after he arrived at the + Harnden home. He had set that as his goal. Above other considerations he + placed his frenzied resolution to protect Vona. He realized that he must + protect her even from himself—from the shock she would suffer by his + unprefaced appearance, this lover who would come like one risen from the + dead! The scoundrels who came seeking Britt in her home would not be as + terrifying as the visitor who would seem to be a specter—the shade + of the convict whom a mountain had crushed, so said the official reports + of the tragic affair. + </p> + <p> + The fact that he was rushing to meet in combat three men, armed and + desperate, worried him less than his anguished concern in behalf of the + girl who was unprepared for his advent by hint or warning. + </p> + <p> + At last he came to the pasture slopes where he was more sure of his + footing. He ran. When he heard the rumble of wheels he stopped in order to + listen, trying to distinguish the location of the sound in the fog, which + made direction uncertain. He knew it must be late. Few vehicles were moved + in Egypt after dark. He suspected that what he heard was the van. + </p> + <p> + However, he was puzzled by what he was hearing. Either there were many + vehicles, or else the echoes were playing pranks in the mists which + enwrapped all objects. Under the pall of fog all sounds were exaggerated. + To right and left, near at hand and far away he heard the rumble of + wheels, the creak of whiffletrees, and the plodding feet of animals. + </p> + <p> + He heard, too, an occasional, dust-choked bleat or a plaintive lowing. + </p> + <p> + But a sound that was repeated regularly he could not understand, nor could + he determine the direction from which it came. It was sound diffused like + the fog itself. It was mellowed by distance. He recognized the notes as + the winding of some sort of a horn or trump. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman's ears were telling him nothing definite. He hurried on down the + hill so that he might make his eyes serve him at closer range. In order to + see what was going on in the highway he was obliged to go close to the + wall which bordered it; though the fog hindered, it helped, for in the + obscurity he was well hidden among the bushes. + </p> + <p> + First he saw a hayrack go past. Two horses drew it. It was piled high with + household goods, and women and children were on top of the load. Two cows + were hitched on behind. By the time the fog had hidden this conveyance a + wagon of the jigger type rumbled past. It was as heavily loaded as the + hayrack. He heard other vehicles coming—he heard still others far + down the road on their way. + </p> + <p> + He was urged by a furious desire to shout—to ask what all this + meant. But he did not dare to run such risks. There was a wall between him + and the rest of humanity until his sorry affairs could be straightened. + </p> + <p> + The highway gave him a clew as to his whereabouts; he had been lost in + that wallow of vapor, unable to distinguish north from south. He retreated + from the wall and stooped as he ran along behind the screen of the wayside + alders. He had an affair of his own to look after, no matter what the rest + of Egypt was doing. + </p> + <p> + In spite of his haste, he carefully scrutinized each item in this singular + parade of the night, keeping near enough to the road for that purpose. It + seemed like some sort of a migration. He wondered how comprehensive it + was. He wanted to be sure that nobody in whom he was especially interested + passed him without his knowledge. There was every kind of an equipage that + would convey people or property. Nobody was talking. So far as was + possible, the human beings in the procession seemed to be trying to make a + secret of the affair. Mothers hushed their children when the youngsters + chattered or whimpered. Men merely whispered commands to the horses. + </p> + <p> + All at once Vaniman beheld the van. It was holding a place in the parade + and was moving with the decorous slowness of the other vehicles. On the + driver's seat with Wagg were the two convicts. The comrade whom they had + deserted waited until it had passed; then he ran out into the road and + ducked along close to the rear of it. + </p> + <p> + They were coming away from the village of Egypt. To what extent had they + succeeded in their rascally errand? What burden were they conveying? + Vaniman could not curb his wild desire to find out. He had had plenty of + experience in dodging into that van. He lifted the flap and leaped in. + There was black darkness in there. He put out his hand cautiously. It + touched a man. The move that the man made was a sort of fruitless + struggle, indicating that his limbs were secured in some way. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman, in that crisis in his affairs, was not affected by squeamishness. + He used his hands. He immediately discovered that the man was tied up hand + and foot with torn cloth, strips of sheets or something of the kind. The + man's only apparel was a nightshirt. Around his neck, so Vaniman's touch + told him, was a leather cord to which keys were attached. Tasper Britt had + told his cashier that he always carried his keys to bed with him in that + fashion, and he had advised Vaniman to employ the same caution. + </p> + <p> + This prisoner in the van was certainly the magnate of Egypt. Vaniman found + that a towel was bound tightly across the bearded mouth; the young man + even ran his hand over the bald pate, now divested of its toupee. + </p> + <p> + There was no gold in the van. Vaniman made sure of that after he had + satisfied himself as to the identity of Britt. + </p> + <p> + While the young man was endeavoring to steady his whirling thoughts, + striving to plan some course of action by which he could turn the + situation to his personal benefit, his attention became taken up in + another quarter. Through the trap he heard the voice of the short man. + “Quick! Off the road. Nobody's in sight!” + </p> + <p> + The van lurched and the front of it dipped with a violence that drove + Vaniman and Britt against the end. Up came the front and the rear sagged. + Then the van went bumping and swaying over uneven ground. The claw-clash + of the branches of trees against the sides informed Vaniman that the men + had driven into the woods. + </p> + <p> + When the vehicle halted, the young man crawled forward and huddled down + into as compact a ball as he could make of himself. + </p> + <p> + He heard the three men dismounting. “I'll tell the world that this is a + handy night for us, whatever it is that's going on in this burg!” It was + the voice of that ever-ready spokesman, the short man. “There would have + been a head at every window if we had been obliged to go teaming around + all by ourselves, in the night. But they wouldn't have noticed a couple of + giraffes and a hippopotamus in that procession.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't see that they even paid any attention to those women squalling + upstairs when we did the job,” was the tall man's opinion. “Handy night, + say you? Why, that man we braced up to and asked where was Britt's + boarding house, he seemed to have so much of his own business on his mind + that he wasn't wondering a mite what our business with Britt might be.” + </p> + <p> + “Get busy!” said the other convict. “That business is only just + beginning.” + </p> + <p> + There was a stir of feet. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” It was the voice of Wagg, mumbling cautiously. “Tie your + handkerchiefs over your faces like I'm doing.” + </p> + <p> + “Right!” the short man agreed. “Always leave 'em guessing when you say + good-by!” + </p> + <p> + A few moments later Wagg lifted the flap; Vaniman saw him outlined against + the fog. The convicts reached in and pulled Britt out, and the flap was + dropped. + </p> + <p> + “Look out!” the short man warned. “Loosen that towel only a little and + hold your clutch on his gullet, bo! We're not any too far from that road, + and we'll understand the good news if he'll only whisper it.” + </p> + <p> + After a few moments he went on. “Man, we've got you—got you foul! + You know where that gold coin is. Shut up! No argument. You tell us where + it is. Then you won't get hurt. If you don't tell us, you <i>will</i> get + hurt. Get busy with your mouth!” + </p> + <p> + In spite of his abhorrence at this method of extorting the truth, Vaniman + was conscious of a feeling of comradeship with the three rapscallions at + that moment. They were merely seeking loot. He was seeking the + re-establishment of his honor and his love. He waited in the tense + silence, straining every nerve to hear. No sound came to him. He wondered + whether Britt, cowed, was whispering the information. + </p> + <p> + “Get busy, I tell you!” + </p> + <p> + Evidently the prisoner was obstinate. + </p> + <p> + Minute after minute the short man labored with the captive, the snarl in + his insisting voice deepening into the diapason of malevolent threat. + </p> + <p> + But Britt said no word. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman, feeling that all the prospects of his life were at stake, decided + to play a waiting game. In spite of their culpable motive, the men outside + were serving as his aides in the crucial moment. They were demanding + information which the usurer owed to the innocent. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very well,” said the master of ceremonies. “We'll go on with the rest + of the program, then. One of you bring that side lamp and light it. And + help me get this towel tighter. He's going to try some squalling.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman saw the flare of the lamp past the edge of the flap. He set his + teeth and decided that he would not interfere. When he heard sounds which, + muffled in the towel, were like the whines and grunts of a tortured + animal, he stiffened his determination to await the issue. + </p> + <p> + “Now loosen the gag and let him talk! I reckon he has found something to + say.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman heard louder groans. But Britt gave out no information. + </p> + <p> + “Back with the talk-tickler! Hold it closer! The same foot! We've got a + good start on that one.” + </p> + <p> + The man in the van felt his gorge rising, in spite of the fact that the + victim was a relentless persecutor of others. The stifled accents of agony + were dreadful. + </p> + <p> + After a time the short man spoke. Into three words he put the venom of a + malice that would not be gainsaid. “Now, damn you!” His tone hinted at no + regret for what had gone on before; it suggested that there was more to + come; it was compelling demand that the captive should employ the respite + that was offered. + </p> + <p> + Britt began to babble; there was a suggestion of partial mania in his + tones. Vaniman could not understand what he was saying, but the sharp + questions that were interjected by the manager of the affair—the + queries that gimleted for additional information—suggested the line + of confession that Britt was giving forth. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—in the bank! Where in the bank? . . . I heard that, but where? + . . . In the basement, hey? Well, where in the basement? . . . Concrete + block hey? . . . Come across! . . . Along here with that lamp, bo! . . . + Exactly where is that block?” + </p> + <p> + Through Vaniman there flooded something that was almost a delirium of + derring do. He did not know just what he would be able to perform—one + against three. He did not dare to wait for any farther developments in the + thing. He was possessed by the frantic fear that the knaves would use + their information and beat him to the treasure. That the money was + somewhere in the basement of Britt Block was enough for him at that + juncture. He decided that the time for stealth was past. He would proclaim + the news. He would tell his story. He would trust the case to the fair + judgment of men. + </p> + <p> + He scrambled forward in the van and made a hasty survey of the situation. + Britt was stretched on the ground. The two convicts were kneeling side by + side, bending over their captive, and the short man was still plying Britt + with questions. Their backs were toward the man in the van. Wagg was + kneeling at Britt's feet, holding the carriage lamp, shielding the flare + with a curved palm. + </p> + <p> + The posture of all three of them invited the attack that Vaniman instantly + decided on. He could not hope that he would be offered a better + opportunity. + </p> + <p> + He flung aside the flap, he leaped from the opening. Spreading his knees, + he landed on the convicts, a knee on each back, and then he brought his + hands toward each other with all his strength, cuffing their skulls + together with a resounding crack. They fell across Britt. Vaniman was on + his feet while Wagg was rising; the guard's slow mind was operating + ineptly on his muscles. The young man felled Wagg with a vicious blow + under the ear. + </p> + <p> + The convicts, knocked senseless, were on their faces, pinning Britt to the + ground. The butts of the bulldog revolvers in their hip pockets were + exposed. Vaniman snatched out the weapons. He aimed one of the revolvers + at Wagg, who had struggled to his knees. “Your knife! Throw it to me! + Quick!” + </p> + <p> + Under the menace of the gun Wagg obeyed. + </p> + <p> + The young man pocketed the guns for a moment. He rolled the reviving + convicts off Britt and slashed the prisoner's bonds and tore the towel + from his face. It was in his mind to force Britt to crawl into the van. He + was regarding Britt as his chief witness and principal exhibit in the + exposure he proposed to lay before the people of Egypt. In the back of + Vaniman's head there may have been some sort of consideration for the man + who had ruined him—scruples against leaving him with those renegades + who had tortured him. However, the young man was conscious of the more + compelling motive—to carry Britt along with him, to force Britt, + before the eyes of men, to uncover the hiding place of the treasure. + </p> + <p> + He trained his guns on the three men, backing away from them in order to + have them at a safe distance. Britt was on his knees. He was staring at + Vaniman with unblinking eyes in which unmistakable mania was flaming. The + attack on him in his bed that night, the blow that had stunned him so that + the assailants might tie him up, the ride in the strange conveyance, the + dreadful uncertainty of what it was all about—these matters had + wrought cruelly upon the victim's wits. The torture by the flame had + further unsettled his mind. And at that moment, coming down from the + heavens, so it seemed, a dead man had appeared to him. + </p> + <p> + Britt's recent experience had rendered him incapable of surveying the + thing from a normal viewpoint. He saw the man whom he had disgraced by + plot and perjury, the man who was buried under tons of rock, so the state + had officially reported, the man to whose return after seven years of + punishment Britt had been looking forward with dread. He had slept more + peacefully since that tragedy had been enacted at the prison. Britt was + not admitting that this was a human being in the flesh. Already partially + crazed by the manhandling from which he had suffered, he peered at this + apparition, a mystic figure in the aura of the fog—the shade of + Frank Vaniman, so his frantic belief insisted—and leaped up, + screaming like a man who had gone stark, staring mad. + </p> + <p> + Before Vaniman had time to issue a command Britt ran away along the lane + by which the van had entered the wood. He was an extraordinary figure in + flight. His night robe fluttered behind as he ran. For the most part he + hopped on one foot; he yelped with pain when he was obliged to set the + blistered foot on the ground in order to recover his balance. + </p> + <p> + Vaniman did not stay to threaten the three men. He had their weapons and + he did not fear them. + </p> + <p> + He ran after Britt. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX + </h2> + <h3> + THE FOX WHO WAS RUN TO EARTH + </h3> + <p> + Vaniman's first impulse was to overtake the fugitive. He wanted to have + Britt in his grip, holding to him, forcing him to confess and restore. + </p> + <p> + But when Britt reached the highway and started in the direction of the + village, saner second thought controlled the pursuer. Britt had become a + self-operating proposition; Vaniman felt that, although sudden fright were + spurring Britt, a fear more inherently characteristic was pulling the + usurer on his race to the village—he had betrayed the hiding place + of hard cash! He was rushing to protect it. By running to the treasure + Britt would be betraying something of more moment to Vaniman than gold. + The young man kept his distance, keeping the quarry in sight, running a + few feet behind Britt in the fog. + </p> + <p> + In the mist the two were like the flitting figures of a fantasy. The road + was still well filled with wains and pedestrians, following after those + who had gone on ahead. The wains stopped; the pedestrians halted and gaped + and gasped. Women cried out shrilly. Vaniman and Britt furnished an + uncanny spectacle. The eyes which beheld them saw them only for an + instant; the fog's curtain allowed each observer scant time to determine + what these figures were. Britt, hairless, his face sickly white, his night + gear fluttering, was as starkly bodeful as if he were newly risen from the + grave, garbed in death's cerements. Vaniman's presence on the scene added + to the terrifying illusion produced by Britt. + </p> + <p> + This pursuer had been officially proclaimed dead. They who beheld believed + they saw a dead man. The face was smutched with blood. The eyes were wide + and were set straight ahead. Vaniman was taking no chances on losing the + man whom he was chasing. + </p> + <p> + After the first thrill of horror, wild curiosity stung the men of Egypt. + They dropped the reins, those who were driving horses, and joined those + who had turned in their tracks and were following the phantoms of the + night. + </p> + <p> + In this fashion, with the rout and rabble behind and Vaniman close on his + heels, Tasper Britt arrived at Britt Block—and even the statue in + its niche seemed to goggle with amazed stare. + </p> + <p> + Britt did not stop to lift the loop of the leather thong over his head; + with a fierce tug he broke the cord. He unlocked the door and rushed in. + </p> + <p> + After Vaniman followed, the men outside hesitated only momentarily. Their + numbers gave them courage. They crowded into the corridor. Some of them + were carrying the lanterns which they had used to light the way of the + procession of carts. + </p> + <p> + Britt did not enter his office; he ran the length of the corridor and + flung open the door which led to the basement. The pursuers kept on at the + heels of Vaniman. But they took the precaution to allow the men with the + lanterns to go ahead. + </p> + <p> + Britt went frantically at his work, paying no attention to anybody. In + fact, he did not seem to realize that others were present. There was a + heap of furnace wood in one corner of the basement; he began to heave that + wood in all directions. One of the lanterns was smashed by a billet. The + men in the place were obliged to dodge the flying sticks. Britt worked as + if he were alone in the place. He talked to himself. “Demons are after it. + Demons and dead men! The demons sha'n't have it. I told 'em where it was. + But I'll take it away. The demons brought hell fire to make me tell. They + brought a dead man. But they sha'n't have it.” + </p> + <p> + “He's gone raving crazy!” cried an onlooker in shrill tones. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, men! Let's catch him and tie him up,” suggested somebody else. + </p> + <p> + But they were prevented by fears which were made effective by influences + which did not seem to partake wholly of human qualities. + </p> + <p> + In their concentrated interest in the active Britt they had been + disregarding Vaniman, who was restraining himself, standing outside the + radiance of the lanterns. + </p> + <p> + The next instant he leaped into the sight of all of them. He stood between + them and Britt. He pulled his weapons. His blood-spotted face seemed a + vision of the unreal; but the guns were unmistakably the agents which a + human being would employ in an emergency. And there was a businesslike + click in his tone. “Stand back, the whole of you! This is a show-down. + Tasper Britt is confessing that he is a thief and a liar. Use your eyes.” + </p> + <p> + They cowered back from the threat of the guns and did use their eyes. They + saw Britt uncover a section of the basement floor of concrete. They saw + him locate an iron ring that was cunningly concealed under a little square + of concrete which he pried up with his finger nails. He tugged at the ring + and lifted a slab. The men with the lanterns raised them high. The light + glinted on gold—gold coins in bulk, naked of sacks. + </p> + <p> + A man had come thrusting through the crowd in the basement, hurrying in + from the outside. It was Squire Amos Hexter. It was hard to determine from + his expression which spectacle he found the more astounding—Frank + Vaniman at bay, in the flesh, or the gold coins that Tasper Britt was + dipping with both hands, sluicing them upon the concrete in jingling + showers. + </p> + <p> + Squire Hexter did find his voice. “Good God!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + “God is good!” said Vaniman. He threw the weapons into a far corner of the + basement. “Squire Hexter, take charge of this thing. Here are plenty of + witnesses.” + </p> + <p> + The Squire went forward slowly. His lips moved without the sound of spoken + word. He set the clutch of his hands on Vaniman's arms. He stared long and + earnestly into the young man's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I can't talk now,” Vaniman quavered. + </p> + <p> + And the Squire seemed to know, out of his sympathy with men, that there + was something for that case better than words. He put his arms around + Vaniman and kissed him. “Come along home with me to Xoa, sonny.” + </p> + <p> + Britt struggled to his feet, and groaned when his weight came on the + tortured flesh. He looked about as if searching for something. “A basket!” + he muttered. “I must find a basket.” + </p> + <p> + He started forward and saw Vaniman in the hook of the Squire's arm. + Whether increase of his mania or some sort of remorse prompted his + utterance was not clear. “Take it back to Tophet with you! I didn't mean + to keep it. I didn't know how to give it back. I took it so that they'd + pen you up, out from under my feet. But even a thousand tons of rock can't + pen you. I'm done trying. If this is what you're chasing me for, take it! + Keep away from me.” + </p> + <p> + He went through the crowd, beating his way with his fists. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we hold him, Squire?” called a man. + </p> + <p> + “Let him alone for just now! He can't go far in that shape. We'll attend + to him after a little while.” The Squire pulled himself together with the + air of one who saw that the situation needed a commander. He singled + responsible men from the crowd and ordered them to take charge of the + coin. + </p> + <p> + “Come away with me,” he urged Vaniman. “This is no place for our talk.” + </p> + <p> + When they walked out of the building they saw no sign of Britt. “We'll let + him alone,” insisted the Squire. “There'll be no use in asking him + questions till he's in his right mind. He'll probably get back his wits + when he gets back his clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “Squire Hexter, what's happening in this town to-night. What—” + </p> + <p> + “All in good time, sonny! Let's get home where Xoa is.” + </p> + <p> + There were lights in the Squire's house. In spite of the fog, Vaniman + perceived that there was a gray hint of dawn in the heavens. More acutely + was he wondering what this universal vigil in Egypt signified. But + reaction had overtaken him. He was in the mood to accept commands of any + sort. He walked on in silence. + </p> + <p> + “You must stay out here till I break the thing to Xoa!” + </p> + <p> + The young man clung to the trellis of the porch for a few moments until + Xoa flung wide the door. Supported in her embrace, he staggered into the + sitting room. + </p> + <p> + “Cry, sonny! Cry a little,” the Squire adjured him. “Put your head on + Xoa's knee and have it out. It will tide you over till your own mother can + comfort you.” + </p> + <p> + But wild desire for knowledge burned the sudden tears out of Vaniman's + eyes. “Where is Vona? What is happening?” + </p> + <p> + “We'll see to it mighty quick that Vona knows, sonny. The right word must + get to her in the right way. Mother will know how. Mother, you'd better + attend to it.” + </p> + <p> + She agreed with that suggestion, but first she brought a basin and water + and soft cloths and solicitously made more presentable the young man's + face. + </p> + <p> + While she ministered to him he told them what had been happening in his + affairs. + </p> + <p> + “You're alive. That's the main point. Now, Xoa,” urged the Squire, “go to + Vona before some lunatic tells her something to scare her to death!” + </p> + <p> + The good woman hastened away, her smile reassuring the lover. + </p> + <p> + For some time the Squire regarded Vaniman with an expression into which + some of the old notary's whimsical humor began to creep. “So it struck + you, did it, that you had dropped back into town on a lively night? I was + expecting quite a general stir, myself. But I'll confess that the thing + hit me as livelier than what I had looked for when I was sitting here and + heard a man holler outside that your ghost had chased Tasper Britt into + his office. You see, the plan was not to have Tasper disturbed by any + human beings this night. We all hoped he would sleep sound. Everybody + proposed to tiptoe when passing in the neighborhood of the Harnden house. + But to have a ghost come and chase Tasper around town was wholly outside + the calculations of the human beings in Egypt this night.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid I don't see any joke hidden in this proposition, Squire,” the + young man complained. + </p> + <p> + “Son, it's a joke, but it's so big and ironic that only one of those gods + on high Olympus is big enough and broad-minded enough to be able to laugh + at it. Some day the folks of this town will be able to look back on this + night and laugh, I do hope. But not now. They're too much wrought up. + They're too busy. Hold on! I'm going to let another man explain the thing. + He's in a position to pass out information more to the point than anything + I can hand you. I'll simply say this. When you saw what you beheld in the + fog this night, you were seeing a revised version of the Book of Exodus + acted out in real life. The Children of Israel, of this day and date, are + departing from the land of Pharaoh, current edition. With their flocks and + their possessions, their wives and their children, they are on their way + to The Promised Land. And now, if you'll step into the parlor with me I'll + introduce you to the promiser.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman followed + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX + </h2> + <h3> + THE PROMISED LAND + </h3> + <p> + There was a big man in the parlor, a hearty-looking man, manifestly of the + metropolis, patently of the “good sport” type. He was walking up and down. + With his tweed knickerbockers, his belted jacket, his diamonds in his + scarf and on his fingers, he was such an odd figure in the homely + surroundings that he produced on Vaniman a surprise effect. The young man + surveyed the stranger with the interest one might take in a queer animal + in a circus van; the big man's restless pacing suggested a caged creature. + But he took not the least interest in Vaniman, an unkempt individual + without a coat. + </p> + <p> + “Hexter, what did happen, anyway? I thought you were never coming back. I + had a good mind to chase you up, though it would be poor judgment for me + to show myself to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “This has happened!” The Squire pointed to Vaniman. The big man cocked an + inquiring eyebrow, looking at the Squire's exhibit with indifference. + “Colonel, this is Frank Vaniman. You know all about the case!” + </p> + <p> + The stranger stepped back so hastily that he knocked over a chair. + </p> + <p> + “Know about the case!” he bawled. “No, I don't know about it, either, if + this is the man the mountain fell on—or whatever it was that + happened. What kind of con is this you're giving me, Hexter?” + </p> + <p> + “This is the man, sir. What I mean by saying you know about the case is + that you have agreed with me that an innocent man was railroaded into + prison, after I gave you the facts. He is out through a trick worked by a + prison guard. He'll give us the details later. Just now it's more + important for you to be told that Tasper Britt, by his own acts, has + confessed that he robbed the Egypt Trust Company.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be damnationed!” blurted the big man, with such whole-souled + astonishment that the mode of expression was pardonable. “And I thought + that plenty and enough was happening in this town for one night!” + </p> + <p> + “Frank, this is Colonel Norman Wincott. He has well understood your case + from what I have told him. Now he will understand better. Colonel, won't + you allow Frank's story to wait? He is in a dreadfully nervous state, poor + chap. And I'm afraid he'll go crazy on our hands if he isn't enlightened + right away about what is going on here to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Wincott strode across the room and slapped Vaniman cordially on + the shoulder with one hand and pumphandled with the other. “Plenty of men + have escaped from state prison. There's a special novelty about a story of + that sort. But let me tell you that I'm the only man in the world who has + ever put over a proposition such as this one that is on the docket right + here and now. I don't blame you for being interested.” It was plain that + the colonel entertained no mean opinion of himself and his projects. “All + is, Vaniman, I hope your making a two-ring affair of it hasn't taken the + attention of the folks off the main show.” + </p> + <p> + “It has only added to the general effect,” affirmed the Squire. “It's a + clincher. Folks don't care now because Tasper Britt is awake. He has got + plenty of business of his own to attend to without calling in sheriffs to + slap on attachments.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good! The easier the better,” returned Colonel Wincott. “But when I + hired you to look after the law part, Hexter, I reckoned you could counter + every crack he made. Sit down, Vaniman!” He picked up the chair he had + overturned and took it for himself. “You have seen the parade, some of + it?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw a great deal of it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And you don't know where it's headed for?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + The colonel leaned back and regarded the Squire with the satisfied + contentment of a cat who had tucked away the last morsel of the canary. + Then he winked at Vaniman. “Young man, did you ever hear of Wincott's Pure + Rye?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Glad of it! Hope you never were familiar with any other brands. However, + enough men did know about it in those dear, damp days beyond recall to + make me independent of the pawnshop, to say the least. And, having cleaned + up a good pot with whisky running down men's gullets, I reckoned I'd see + what I could do with water running downhill. Do you get me at all so far?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't suppose you would. I'm only shuffling the deck. Now for the deal! + Awhile ago I came up into this state from the South and I bought the + unorganized township that bounds this town on the north. It had gone + begging for a buyer because it's mostly pond and water power. But it's + what I wanted. And, having bought it, I used my check book and got some + good lobbyists on the job and I got a conditional charter from the + legislature. That is to say, it becomes a town charter automatically the + moment I can report a certain number of inhabitants—not mere men, + but families, regularly settled. Do you see?” + </p> + <p> + “I surely do begin to see, Colonel Wincott.” + </p> + <p> + “Vaniman, if I had gone to the cities and advertised for settlers, what + kind would I have got? Probably only a bunch of aliens dissatisfied + already; if they weren't sore on general conditions I couldn't coax 'em to + move. And aliens are always moving. I wanted some of the old breed of + Yankee pioneers. That's what my folks were, 'way back. I took a sly peek + into the town of Egypt. Good folks, but no opportunities here. Everything + gone to seed. Up in my township a new deal with a fresh deck! Plenty of + timber, plenty of rich land—and mills going up. Confound it! I + propose to be boss of a real town—not a wild land plantation!” + </p> + <p> + He suddenly shifted his posture. He came forward in his chair and set his + elbows on his knees. “Say, Vaniman, I got Hexter's opinion a few days ago + when I opened up to him and hired him to attend to the law. But I want to + ask you now what you think of my real-estate agent?” + </p> + <p> + The young man shifted his bewildered gaze from the colonel's jovial and + inquiring visage to the Squire's equally cheerful countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Known to Pharaoh and the modern Children of Israel as the Prophet Elias, + Frank,” explained the notary. “I have heartily indorsed his good work. + Furthermore, he knows well how to keep a secret and how to train others to + keep one. Tasper Britt went to bed this night without one inkling of what + was about to happen. He did not know that he was to be left here without + men to toil and pay him his twelve per cent. He has town debts. He has the + bare acres he has foreclosed on—he has the tumble-down houses. He + has the paupers on the poor farm. He—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Squire! I forgot about those paupers,” broke in the colonel. “I + want a town that's fully rounded out. A few paupers belong in a town so + that they may serve to remind others folks that they must keep busy and + avoid the poor farm. And even the paupers will wake up and go to work in + my town! Work will be in the air. I'm going to send a wagon after those + paupers. Britt is no sort of a man to be allowed pets; he'll let 'em + starve.” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly,” agreed the Squire. “I'll say, further, Frank, that when the + Prophet started off last evening, blowing his trump to sound the signal + for the migration, Britt stood and saw him go—and never guessed what + it meant.” + </p> + <p> + “I heard that horn—I wondered.” + </p> + <p> + “He's a good blower,” stated Colonel Wincott. “He blew all the props out + from under the man Britt. Solidly grounded on texts, Elias is! Vaniman, a + brand-new scheme needs a resourceful operator.” He patted the top of his + head. “Pardon me for flattering myself. I invented the system and the + Prophet played it.” + </p> + <p> + Then Colonel Wincott leaned back, stuck his thumbs into the armholes of + his vest, and rocked on the hind legs of the chair. “I played a hunch,” he + went on. “I was going through Scollay Square in Boston one evening and I + heard a street evangelist holding forth. He was preaching on the subject, + 'Bondage.' Sin he called Pharaoh. And he was hammering the hearers with + texts from Exodus. The idea hit me. I hung up beside the curb till he was + through preaching, then I invited him to take a ride with me in my car. + And a wise old bird I found him to be! No hypocrite! Doing his best to + help his fellow-men, but always hep! Never out of a city till I pulled him + up here. Likes the country now. Going to be the regular preacher in my new + town. No more robe-and-umbrella business, of course. That was my idea. I'm + inclined to be a little circusy in my notions. He stood for it. The scheme + helped him to put over what he couldn't have got away with by ordinary + means.” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman remembered those flashes of worldly wisdom in the Prophet, and was + enlightened. His countenance revealed his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “Had you guessing?” demanded the colonel. “Nothing like starting folks to + guessing. Keeps up the interest. One by one Elias snipped the cords that + bound the folks to the soil of this place. Did a fine job. They're going + to thrive after they are transplanted. Even Squire Hexter is going to + bring up the rear guard, after he has finished here with the loose ends of + the law needed in the case.” + </p> + <p> + “It's to be a clean sweep, Frank,” the Squire affirmed. “Even Usial and + his press; the new town will be in his legislative class.” Then he looked + long at Colonel Wincott, who was rocking on the legs of his chair. + </p> + <p> + “I know mighty well what you want to say to me, Squire Hexter,” stated the + object of the regard. “You don't need to say a word, though. I'll do the + saying. Vaniman, you have had a raw deal. But you'll soon be through the + woods. I'm going to have a bank in my new town. You're going to be the + boss of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Just a moment before you say anything, Frank,” expostulated the Squire + when Vaniman, choking with doubts and gratitude both, attempted to speak. + “I propose to start at once for the shire town. I'll begin with the county + attorney. I'll have your name cleared inside of twenty-four hours.” + </p> + <p> + “And don't bother with any Dobbins for that job,” declared the colonel. + “Use my car. My chauffeur is hiding it in the bush a little ways from + here. And now, Vaniman, give me all your attention,” he went on, with the + pride of a successful performer. “I'll tell you what's going to happen + over across the line in my town. It's going to interest you. You have been + a man of affairs and you can grasp what I'm saying.” + </p> + <p> + But Vaniman did not seem to be grasping even that introduction of the + subject. He had heard hurrying footsteps outside the house. + </p> + <p> + “You'll never listen to anything that will stir your blood like what I'm + going to tell you of my plans for the future,” insisted the colonel. + </p> + <p> + But a tremulous voice called: “Frank! Frank!” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman leaped from his chair and turned his back on the man who proposed + to stir the blood of the listener. + </p> + <p> + Squire Hexter hurried to Colonel Wincott and whispered information which + caused the master of The Promised Land to elevate his eyebrows + understandingly. + </p> + <p> + “Great Caesar! Why, sure!” he blurted, and popped up out of his chair. + </p> + <p> + Following the Squire, he tiptoed to the door and stood on one side when + the notary opened and peeped out. + </p> + <p> + “Vona!” called the Squire, gently. “The boy is in here. Come!” + </p> + <p> + She ran past them into the room. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Wincott ducked out and the Squire followed and closed the door. He + closed it slowly, softly, reverently, and then turned a smiling face of + compassionate understanding toward Xoa and the colonel. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI + </h2> + <h3> + THROUGH THE GATES OF THE DAWN INTO “LIBERTY” + </h3> + <p> + There was a hush in the Squire's house. The three who were in the sitting + room discussed affairs, subduing their tones almost to whispers. + </p> + <p> + When somebody tramped on to the porch and pounded on the door, the + interruption was startling. + </p> + <p> + The Squire went and opened the door and disclosed Deputy-Warden Bangs of + the state prison. But when Bangs made a step forward the notary bulked + himself in the doorway with all the dignity his modest size would permit. + </p> + <p> + “I'm led to believe that you have in this house an escaped convict, name + of Vaniman,” declared the officer. + </p> + <p> + “Don't your prison records show that the convict named Vaniman is + officially dead, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll admit that; but if what I have heard since I was routed out of my + bed is so, those records will have to be revised.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no control over your records,” returned the Squire, grimly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs made another step forward. + </p> + <p> + “But I have full control over my own house, sir. You cannot come in.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you stand in the way of a deputy warden of the state prison?” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly do until he presents himself in my door with a proper search + warrant, instead of coming here on the strength of mere hearsay.” + </p> + <p> + “I tried to get a warrant,” the officer confessed. “But I can't locate the + trial justice.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear that he is moving,” was the Squire's dry retort. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be the only one in the place who isn't moving,” said Bangs, + craning his neck to peer past the keeper of the door. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm simply delaying my departure a few days in order to close up some + matters of business.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell you that if you're concealing a convict in this house you'll + have more business than what you plan on. I'm up here—” + </p> + <p> + “As you have reported to me and all others, you're up here to find two + escaped prisoners, sir. Very well! They are not in my house. But I have + heard from them. They were seen a very short time ago in the stretch of + woods near here known as Baniman's Bower. If you hurry you may catch + them.” + </p> + <p> + Bangs displayed prompt interest. He showed more when the Squire added: + “They may be already captured. I learned, also, that a man who has been a + prison guard was in the same locality. You officials seem to be very + vigilant!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs choked back some sort of a threatened explosion. He stood there, + shifting from foot to foot. Then he blurted: “Say, you seem to be the most + level-headed man in this town. I'll go chase those convicts if your tip is + a straight one. But tell me! Am I having the nightmare, or are all these + things really happening around here?” + </p> + <p> + However, Squire Hexter did not try to comfort the perturbed Mr. Bangs just + then. The notary stepped out on the porch, closing his door behind him. He + stared into the graying murk of the night and the fog. That fog was + showing a light which was not that of the dawn. It was a spreading, + baleful, reddening glare, and after a few moments it covered all the sky. + </p> + <p> + Then men began to shout. There was an especial uproar from one quarter. + The Squire knew that in the direction of the hullabaloos were located the + camps in which were lodged the imported workmen who had wrought into solid + structure the plans of the mansion that Britt had held in pictured form + before the eyes of Egypt. + </p> + <p> + The feet of running men pounded along the highway. Somebody cried, in + clarion tones, “It's Tasp Britt's new house!” + </p> + <p> + The Squire ran into the road, and Bangs followed. + </p> + <p> + The notary hailed a little group of men who came rushing from the + direction of the main part of the village. “Why aren't you bringing the + tub? Fetch Hecla! Quick, men!” + </p> + <p> + “She's gone!” panted one of the group. + </p> + <p> + “Gone?” + </p> + <p> + “There wasn't any wagon left behind, Squire, and they had to haul that + gold. They hove it into Hecly's water tank and formed a guard, and she's + been a whole half hour gone!” + </p> + <p> + At that juncture a man came running to them from the direction of the + fire. The Squire recognized him as the boss of the carpenters. “Mr. Britt + is in that house. I saw him through a window. But it's a furnace from top + to bottom.” + </p> + <p> + The Squire opened his mouth as if query, urgently demanding utterance, had + pried apart his jaws. “How do you think the fire—” But he promptly + closed his mouth and set his lips tightly. He shook his head with the + manner of one who did not require information. Then he turned and hurried + to his house. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Wincott and Xoa were on the porch, lighted by the great, red torch + whose radiance was flung afar by the reflector aid of the fog. + </p> + <p> + “It's Britt's house—and Britt is in it,” he told them. “Colonel, + your man Friday had over many times one text that fits this thing. 'Can a + man take fire into his bosom, and his clothing not be burned?'” + </p> + <p> + He went to Xoa and patted her arm. “Better go inside, mother. It isn't a + good thing to be looking at. Where are the children?” + </p> + <p> + Frank and Vona answered that question by appearing in the door. They were + honestly affected by the news the Squire gave them. Vona hid her face + against the young man's breast. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to be a self-operating proposition,” stated Colonel Wincott. + “And about all anybody can do is to let it flicker!” + </p> + <p> + Vaniman was clearly not the captain of his soul in those distressing + circumstances. He was displaying symptoms of collapse. Squire Hexter noted + and acted. + </p> + <p> + “Wincott, this boy must not stay here in this town any longer. If that + prison guard runs afoul of him before I get matters under way at the + shire, Frank will be galloped back to his cell in order to make a + grandstand play. I've got to be going. Take Frank under your wing. Get him + over the border.” + </p> + <p> + “Surest thing in the world!” declared the hearty colonel. “Got a hitch?” + </p> + <p> + “My horse and double-seater. Come along to the stable—you, too, + Frank. Xoa, bring him one of my coats and a hat!” + </p> + <p> + Vona leaped away from her lover and faced the Squire. “I shall go with + him, wherever he may go!” she said, with the fire of one who expected to + meet opposition. + </p> + <p> + But the Squire grinned. “Why, girl, of course you'll go! I wouldn't grab + life-saving medicine away from a sick man. Take your mother along, and God + bless the whole of you on the way.” + </p> + <p> + That way was toward the north, on the heels of the wains and the flocks + and the herds and the men and women and children of the migrating + population of Egypt. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Wincott occupied the front seat with Mrs. Harnden. By the time he + had teamed the Squire's fat little nag along for a mile he had succeeded + in calming Mrs. Harnden's hysterical spirits. He induced her to quit + looking over her shoulder at the great torch that lighted luridly the + heavens above the deserted town. “It's a pillar of fire by night, madam, + as you say! But that's as far as it fits in with the Exodus sentiment. + It's behind us—and behind us let it stay.” + </p> + <p> + At the end of another mile Mrs. Harnden was extolling the capability of + her husband. + </p> + <p> + “I've heard about him,” said the colonel. “Optimist? So am I. Get in touch + with him and tell him to come to my new town. He'll have something that he + can really optimize over.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Wincott sedulously kept his attention off the two who rode on the + back seat; he obliged Mrs. Harnden to do the same. + </p> + <p> + After a time the trotting nag overtook the trailers of the procession. The + colonel hailed and passed one wain after another, steadily calling, + “Gangway!” They recognized his authority; they obeyed; they gave him half + the road. + </p> + <p> + He had an especially hearty greeting for the hand tub, Hecla, trundling on + its little wheels, men guarding its flanks, men pulling on the rope by + which it was propelled. Ike Jones was one of the guards. He gave the + colonel's party a return greeting by a flourish on the “tramboon.” + </p> + <p> + “The stage starts from your town this morning, Colonel! Runs express + through Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + “Good idea! Nothing but scenery left there,” agreed the colonel. “Take + good care of that gold, boys! The receiver of the Egypt Trust Company will + be able to cut <i>some</i> melon!” + </p> + <p> + But Prof. Almon Waite, toddling behind the treasure, had a metaphor of his + own. “This gold will gloriously pave the streets of the New Jerusalem, + sir!” + </p> + <p> + They went on in the growing dawn, threading their way among the vehicles + and the folks on foot. + </p> + <p> + In all their progress they met only one party headed in the opposite + direction, coming back toward the town that had been deserted. Vaniman + beheld Bartley Wagg teaming along the two convicts. They were tied + together and he was threatening them with a club. They merely flashed on + the screen of the mist and were out of sight. It was evident that Mr. Wagg + had determined to grab a couple of straws, at any rate, in a desperate + attempt to buoy himself officially in the flood of his misfortunes. + </p> + <p> + The sun was burning away the mists when Colonel Wincott's turnout topped a + hill; he waved his whip to invite the attention of his passengers. “There + she lies, folks! I've been calling it my town. From now on it's our town. + Some daisy on the breast of nature, eh?” + </p> + <p> + There was a lake on the facets of whose ripples the sunlight danced. White + water tumbled down cascades. Beside the lake there was a nest of portable + houses. “Homes till we build bigger ones,” explained the master of The + Promised Land. “I'm giving building lots free. The class of settlers + warrants it!” + </p> + <p> + Then Colonel Wincott called their attention to something else—something + that was not visible. He wrinkled his nose, but his sniff indicated gusto. + “Smell it? It's food for the Children of Israel. Not manna. But it will + fit the occasion, I hope. It's a barbecue. A whole ox and all the + fixings.” + </p> + <p> + Then they came to a high arch, fashioned from boughs of fir and spruce + trees. The wains were rolling under it. + </p> + <p> + Frank and Vona lifted up their eyes. At the top of the arch, in great + letters that were formed of pine tassels fastened to a stretch of canvas, + was the word, “LIBERTY.” + </p> + <p> + “The name of our new town,” said the colonel. + </p> + <p> + But for the two on the rear seat it was more than the name of a town. + Vaniman pressed the girl's trembling hand between his palms. They looked + at each other through the lenses of grateful tears. + </p> + <p> + Just inside the arch stood Prophet Elias, welcoming all comers. He had put + off his robe and had laid aside his fantastic umbrella. He wore the sober + garb of a dominic, and his face, above his tie of white lawn, displayed + shrewd and complete appreciation of the occasion. + </p> + <p> + He took off his hat and bowed low when Colonel Wincott's party passed + under the arch. And this sonorous proclamation followed Frank and Vona: + </p> + <p> + “'And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them + in paths that they have not known; I will make darkness light before them, + and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not + forsake them.'” + </p> + <p> + “Amen!” responded Colonel Wincott, fervently. + </p> + <p> + The two persons on the rear seat did not speak. In silence they had + reverently prostrated themselves at a shrine of thanksgiving in their + souls. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of When Egypt Went Broke, by Holman Day + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHEN EGYPT WENT BROKE *** + +***** This file should be named 4733-h.htm or 4733-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/7/3/4733/ + +Produced by Dagny; John Bickers; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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